He's braced on his forearms, his body a warm solid presence above me, and he's just... still. Taking me in.
"What is it?” I ask gently.
"Nothing." He dips his head to kiss the corner of my mouth. "Just thinking about how I get to wake up to this face every day of my life."
My heart goes completely stupid because of this man. "You're going to make me cry again."
"No more crying." He kisses my other cheek. "I have plans for you that don't involve tears."
"What kind of plans?"
He shifts his weight to one arm and his free hand traces down my side, leaving a trail of fire through the thin fabric of my shirt.
"The kind where I can make you scream my name and the tears you cry are because I fuck you so good and so rough, just like you love it."
I shiver. "Calla..."
"The kind where I can tell you I love you while I'm inside you." His voice drops lower. "Over and over until you believe it. Until you feel it in your bones."
"I already believe it."
"Then I'll do it anyway." He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. "Because I've wanted to say it for so long, Lily. Every single time. And now I can."
He pulls my shirt over my head, and I help him with his, and then it's skin against skin and his mouth is everywhere, trailing fire down my throat, across my collarbone, between my breasts. He's taking his time like he promised, tasting every inch of me like he's been starving for it.
"I love you," he says against my nipple.
His mouth moves lower.
"I love you," he says against my ribs.
Lower still.
"I love you," he says against my hip bone, his fingers hooking into my waistband.
"You're going to kill me," I gasp.
"What a way to go." He tips his head up, eyes bright with wicked intention. "Your words, I believe."
"I'm going to regret ever challenging you."
"Too late." He pulls my shorts down, and presses a kiss to my inner thigh. "You created a monster."
"A monster who loves me."
"A monster who worships you." His breath is hot against my skin. "And loves you."
And then his mouth is on me, and I stop being capable of words. He takes his time there too. Long, slow strokes that make me writhe, that make me grab fistfuls of the sheets,that make sounds come out of my mouth I'd be embarrassed about if I could think clearly. He reads every response like a map, adjusts, returns, builds me up and eases back until I'm begging.
"Please," I gasp. "Please, please."
"Please what?" He lifts his head just enough to meet my eyes, his lips wet, his gaze dark. "Tell me what you want."
"You. Inside me. Now."
"Say it again."
"I want you inside me." I reach for him, pulling at his shoulders. "I need you inside me and tell me you love me while you are."
