Page 437 of End Game

Not touching until I reach for him.

I hesitate.

Because him.

Touch.

His rules.

His body.

He sees it.

“You may.”

That's all I need.

I lean forward.

Slowly enough he can track every inch.

My forehead hits his chest.

Then my arms go around him.

Ronan stiffens for half a second.

Then relaxes.

His arms close around me.

And apparently that's what does it.

The tears come for real.

Fuck.

I bury my face against his chest.

“This is embarrassing.”

“No.”

“I am crying naked on your bondage table.”

“Yes.”

“That feels objectively embarrassing.”

His hand moves slowly down my back. “You do not need to make this funny.”

My throat closes.

Asshole.

More tears.

Obviously.