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I gripped his jaw tightly and steeled myself. If I let him in now, then this was it. If this went sideways now, I might not survive. But then, I wasn’t sure he would either. He searched my eyes, and I could see the message in his. The earnest sincerity that had my heart melting for him.
But it didn’t hurt that he voiced out loud, “I love you, Harlow. With everything I am. All of me is yours.”
I couldn’t resist him any longer. I’d been his since the day I first saw him. When I was that clueless twelve-year-old standing on the staircase at the Callahans and he’d pinned me with that piercing grey stare.
My hand still gripping his jaw, I kissed him hard.
He wrapped his arms around me, and I wrapped mine around his shoulders, my hands finding their way to his hair. We just kissed for the longest time. Like we were making up for lost time.
Finally, I gripped his tee in my hands and breathed, “Valen, I need you.”
He stood up, picking me up easily so we didn’t have to stop kissing. He took a couple of purposeful steps towards the doors, then stopped.
“What?” I asked.
He leant his forehead to mine. “I’ve just realised, I don’t know where your room is here.”
I smiled as he lowered me gently to my feet. I held my hand out for his. “Well, we’re going to have to change that.”
He gave me a rough laugh, looking up at me through his hair with a sinful smile. He took my hand, and I pulled him to my room.
Chapter Twenty-One
We fell through my bedroom door, hands and lips refusing to leave each other.
“Jesus, Harlow,” he breathed my name like a prayer against my lips as my hands went for his jeans button.
He kicked my door closed behind us and we set to getting each other’s clothes off. I felt his smile against my lips as he tried – and failed – to get his boots off without his hands. I ran mine up his chest and grasped his hair.
“Need a hand with that?” I teased him.
“You’re at a distinct advantage here, princess,” he pointed out.
“It’s not my fault you decided tobegfor my heart while I was in my pyjamas.”
“You can say that like it’s shameful, love,” he whispered huskily. “But begging for your love is one of the least shameful things I’ve ever done.”
In his words was all the implications of that. The fact he’d killed. Kidnapped. Fought men twice his size and beaten them into the dust. No doubt done far worse things I would never know the half of. Valen knew about shameful things.
“Loving you,” he said, “is the least shameful thing I will ever do, and I will get on my knees at your feet and beg you to keep me every day if I have to.”
“Just don’t break my heart, Valen…” I was the one begging now, even if my hand was running over his cock like I was desperate for it. “Not again.”
His nose ran over mine. “Just let me have forever, love,” he whispered before kissing me again.
Somehow, we got the rest of our clothes off, then we were in my bed, and he was sliding inside me. He filled me and a blissfully aching clarity descended on me. This was where he was supposed to me. Him and me. Together. Whatever life threw at us, all I had to do was hold on to that fact and I was sure we’d find a way through.
Valen had fucked me plenty over the last four months but what we did that night couldn’t rightly be called fucking. There was too much in it. It was slow, both agonising and incredible. We spent more time exploring each other’s bodies, murmuring incomprehensible nothings to each other, and just being together without any hate or the knowledge that we only had a short time together than we did trying to wring untold pleasures from each other’s bodies in the time we did have. There was no fight for supremacy, serious or in jest. We were just two people who needed to show each other how we felt.
The first time, at least.
Which is not to say that Valen didn’t make me cum as many times as he could.
By the time his cock was pressing against me, hard and ready, for the fourth time, we were done with the purely emotional, as nice as that was.
“Come, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for years,” he said. He planted a kiss on my shoulder, then got out of bed.
I looked at him questioningly but let him pull me with him over to my window seat.
