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He nodded. “It is. You’re mine.”
“Are you sure about that this time?” I asked softly, only really half-teasing.
“You wanted to know what would happen if you pushed me, princess?” he asked, and I nodded. “I fell in love with you, Harlow Vanguard. You pushed and pushed and your carved your fucking name in my heart, and I want to spend every second until my dying breath loving you, not hating you.”
“You won’t get bored?”
“Why do you think I’ll get bored?”
“I might like it hard and fast, but I don’t think I’ll ever really like it proper rough and dirty,” I admitted to him.
He nodded. “I know.”
I frowned. “You know?”
“I’ve known since that time I slapped your arse, and you didn’t care for it.”
I’d guessed since then, too. “And you don’t mind?”
“Mind? No, love. You get my dick hard. You with your tiny fury and dirty mouth and no time for my shite. Not how hard I can choke you to make you cum.”
When he put it like that, it wasn’t something I was going to say a hard no to…
But I just asked him, “I thought you liked it rough and dirty?”
He shrugged. “I have done, but I don’t need it. I want to fuck you how you want to be fucked. I want to please you. If rough and dirty’s not your thing, I don’t want it either.”
“I’m not saying never…” I told him.
A wicked gleam lit his eyes as he looked me over. “I’d be happy to give you proper rough, love. But only if it’s what you want. You’re in charge.”
I smiled at him, and he actually grinned as well. It looked completely unbidden, but it transformed him. I loved him at his darkest, but a thrill ran through me at the idea there were different layers to him that I was going to get to explore, more depth to him that I could fall in love with. And that we had forever for me to do that.
“I never gave you your Christmas present,” Valen changed the subject as his nose trailed over my shoulder.
I remembered now. “You got me a Christmas present.”
He nodded. “I was going to give it to you on Christmas Eve. Then Archer interrupted us, and we didn’t have time.”
I rolled over and looked at him. “What was it?”
He smirked at me. “You mean, what is it?”
“You still have it?”
“Of course. Do you want it?”
“Do you still want to give it to me?”
His eye flashed mischief at my word choice, but he stuck to the current conversation. “Now more so than ever.”
I nodded, intrigued. “Then of course I want it.”
He reached over to find his jeans and pulled a small box out of his pocket.
“Have you been carrying that around since Christmas?” I asked, trying and failing to hide my amusement at him being so sentimental.
He looked at me like I should keep all further thoughts of that to myself.
