Page 98 of Queen of Ruin

Her smile wavers, then widens. “Really?”

“Really, really. I love you, Valentina. I love you so fucking much.”

37

VALENTINA

“Ilove you,” Diego says, gazing deep into my eyes. “I love the way your hair glows in the sunlight, hell, any light. I love the way your eyes sparkle, reminding me of warm honey. I love the way you give a flicker of a half-smile before you give me a full smile. I love the way you speak your mind without hesitation. I love the shape of your ears.” He tucks some of my hair behind my ear.

“My ear?” I whisper.

“Yep. I love that little tremor you get in your voice when you’re holding something back. I love the way you sigh. I love the way you say my name. There’s so much emphasis on the D and I can’t explain it, but you’re the only one who says my name like that and I love it. I love how you trust me, how you don’t judge me. I love the sound of your laugh. I love how insanely hot it is that you know how to kick someone’s ass and crawl all over them with those killer strong thighs.”

I bite back a shy laugh as warmth blooms through my chest.

“I love how you put everyone first. I love how you’re out here protecting people, half of whom don’t even know you exist or what you do for them. I love that every single person here admires and cares for you because of what you’ve done. I love how you never gave up on Tabitha even though it seemed hopeless. That kind of focus and devotion?” Diego’s hand moves back under my chin. “I love how you didn’t give up on me even though I got fucked up in my head and left.”

He leans up ever so slightly while using his light grip on my chin to guide me down into a deep, slow kiss.

“I love you, Valentina,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I mean it. More than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. I love you. I love you.”

This has to be a dream.

In the time we’ve known each other, my feelings for Diego have only ever grown, but I never imagined he felt the same love as deeply as I do. Part of me feared that it was trauma that kept us together, or that he would gradually see what my day-to-day life is like and decide that I’m not worth it. Yet here he lies, detailing things I wasn’t even aware I did and he holds them so highly in his heart. Just like he holds me in his heart.

“You’re such a sweet talker,” I reply softly, lingering so close from the kiss that I write those words against his lips with my own. “Are you always going to be this way?”

His hand slides up until his palm rests against my cheek. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever known. Some of them weren’t even worth knowing and were draining me. I just never realized it until I met you because you haven’t drained me. You’ve filled me with love and life and hope. I never want to let that go.”

Warmth stings behind my eyes and I adjust my weight on his hips while curling my bracing hand into the sheets below. “You swear?”

“I swear. Besides, if I ever change, you can just have me kidnapped again. I think that would soften me right up.” He laughs against me and tilts his chin up, capturing my lips in a warm, sweet kiss.

I want more.

I hunger for it.

But we’re both still recovering. My hair now hides the stitches of my head wound, and every other cut and scrape has grown into pink scars. Diego’s tongue might be stitch-free, but his hand is still recovering from having his nails ripped out, and his thigh is a long way from being fully healed.

That doesn’t stop the yearning in my heart from colliding with the adrenaline from rescuing Tabitha. Every word of love further ignites the desire pooling low in my gut, so I kiss him again.

And again.

We lock into a gentle battle of soft, sweet kisses. Some press his upper lip, some caress his lower lip, and when he parts his lips and invites me in, I move as slowly as I dare. Diego’s still him, he just has a few extra scars and my heart squeezes repeatedly each time my tongue drifts gently over the new scar indent on his tongue, or the new scars on the inside of his cheeks.

Diego doesn’t appear to care, though. He kisses me just as deeply, caressing my cheek up into my hair and a rush of tingles spreads down my bare arms and back.

“I love you too,” I whisper with a soft gasp as we break for air. Panting softly, we share the same bubble of space that warms when interest stirs from Diego’s cock hidden beneath me.

“You do?” he asks huskily.

“I do.”

Then it’s my turn, not that I’ll ever tire of admitting or admiring every detail of Diego that I love.

“I love the way your hair curls to the right even though you’re always brushing it to the left. I love the way your green eyes make me catch my breath every single time you look at me. I love the way you look at me, as if it’s the first time you’re seeing me, and you do that every time. It makes me feel like you’ve missed me and are desperate to see me.”

As I talk, Diego’s shirt unbuttons beneath my skillful fingers and as I shove it off his shoulders, he leans up to help me and laughs softly. “Is it that obvious?” he murmurs.