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He licked his lips, his gaze focused and fierce on mine. “As for not reliving the past, I can’t promise that. I deserve to feel guilt for what I’ve done. I don’t believe I’ve paid enough penance, even at the hands of my brother or the past six weeks in a black hole. You can’t take it personally if I struggle to accept your unconditional affection for me. You can’t ask me to forget because I don’t want to forget. I want to be better. I want to remember, so I don’t make the same mistakes because I fucking refuse to put you or any creature of mine in danger again. Do you get that? Can you accept that? You have my word that I want to be happy. I want to be happy with you. It might take time for me to forgive myself, but as long as you are there, then I know I can be the best kind of man because you make me better and you’ve already given me more joy than I’ve ever known.”
Stupid tears rolled down my cheeks. I broke our touch, swiping at the droplets.
The past few months since meeting Sully, I’d cried in horror, terror, grief, and hope, but now…now, I cried with pure relief. I cried because this was a fresh beginning. Slightly messy with history and possibly tricky as we learned our new paths, but we were together.
I’d earned his trust.
I’d captured his heart.
And he’d just taken every last piece of my soul with his brutal confession.
Sully tried to raise his hand to touch me. His face etched with torment as he struggled to raise his palm to hip height. “Eleanor…don’t cry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m sorry.” I swiped at my tears and placed my hand back into his. I raised his knuckles to my lips and kissed him. “I love you, Sullivan Sinclair. I love you so much it damn well hurts.”
The tension of our honesty shattered, and his body turned sensual instead of strict. “I’m glad it hurts because I’ve never been in such pain.” He arched his eyebrow at the tenting sheet again. “I won’t last eight weeks not having you.”
Looking over my shoulder, checking to see where Louise was so she didn’t catch us breaking her rules, I wrapped my free hand around Sully’s thickening cock.
He bowed off the bed, muscles seizing and his throat elongating with cords of power. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I rubbed him once before letting go. “I’ll trade you sexual favours for motor improvements.”
His eyes flashed a glowing turquoise as he glared at me. “What sort of favours?”
“Oh, I dunno…a kiss if you manage to sit up. A hand job when you can stand.”
“I’ll do both today.”
I laughed under my breath. “Honestly, I believe you would.” Sitting back, I shook my head. “But we should take it slow. You have an important date when you can walk, remember?”
His chest rose with a sharp inhale. “You’re saying yes?”
I grinned. “You didn’t ask a question. You just told me.”
“That’s right. I did.”
“So you don’t need an answer. I’m marrying you the day you can walk.”
He turned serious, his brows sinking low, shadowing complicated eyes. “I’ve stolen you once, Eleanor. I won’t do it again unless it’s something you want.”
“Will I be your prisoner if I say yes?”
“Absolutely. All mine until death do us part.”
“And will you be mine? Will you wear a ring so everyone knows you belong to me?”
“I’ll wear one on every finger if you need me to.”
I laughed again. “Will you permit me to travel? Will you come home with me and meet my parents?”
“If you’re okay that we come back here afterward, so we can avoid the world, then yes. But only if you agree to come with me to stuffy board meetings that I can’t get out of when I fly periodically to the States.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” His gorgeous lips slipped into a heart-stopping smile. “Let’s get me walking then, woman. We have a wedding to attend.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“I’M GIVING MY CHEFS a raise. They can have every penny I own.”
Eleanor laughed beside me, the stress that’d carved into her cheeks and highlighted her weight loss had softened thanks to our shared meal. Her hair had been twisted into a rope and pinned to the top of her head with a pencil from my desk. Pika sat on my pillow, chattering away to himself where I’d been rearranged into a sitting position, while Skittles preferred to perch on Eleanor’s knee where she sat cross-legged beside me.
The remains of our lunch lay between us.
After the intensity of our conversation, I hadn’t been able to stop the tug of sleep. I’d fallen into a dreamless rest, unaware that six hours passed while Eleanor and my doctors watched over me as my body gathered its weakened endurance.
