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"You are," I whisper. "Why?"
"I'm not stalling," he promises, pulling back to smile at me. "I just want to be lost in you when you say those words this time. And I want you to say them because you mean them, not because I bossed you into it."
"Crazy man," I say, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "I meant them when I said them the other night. I was just scared. But I'm not afraid anymore, Theo. I think…well, I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't care what anyone says or what they think. I don't care if I'm a disaster and everyone laughs at me for it. You made me realize something."
"What?"
"Goonies never say die."
His smile grows. "Did you just quote the Goonies at me?"
"Yes. It's an excellent movie," I say, sniffing at him. Chris Columbus is a genius. "And it's true. When something matters, you can't give up, even if it's hard or scary or seems impossible. When someone matters, they matter all the time, not just when they're perfect. I'm not perfect, Theo. I make messes and I cause disasters and I'm loud and sometimes I say things I probably shouldn't. But the way you make me feel matters. You matter, and you make me feel like I matter, too."
"You do matter."
"I know," I whisper, smiling at him. "That's what you taught me. That I matter. Not just sometimes or when it's easy, but all the time. Just like Sloth mattered all the time. His family was horrible to him and hid him away, and made him feel likesomething was wrong with him, but he mattered. He deserved to be loved. The Goonies saw his worth, just like you see mine. I'm your Sloth."
"God, I love you," he says, chuckling.
"I lo-"
His growl silences me.
"I'm not in you yet, Charlotte."
"Then hurry it up," I demand. "I have orgasms to get to."
He growls again and then kisses me. My laughter dies as he deepens the kiss. He moves on top of me, his erection sliding through my folds. But he teases me mercilessly, not giving me what I want until I'm pleading with him to get inside me.
"Theo!" I shout, my nails scrabbling down his back as he thrusts into me all at once, filling me to the hilt. The feeling is indescribably good, like when all the lights turn green before you hit the brake and traffic moves out of your way and you get the middle brownie all on the same day. Only it's better than that too. So much better.
"Do you feel me in your soul yet, Charlotte?" he asks, pumping his hips and then grinding them in a circle. He does it slow, so slow I sob his name, desperate for him to go faster and harder. "Can you feel me claiming it?"
"Yes," I sob. "I f-feel you!"
"Good," he whispers, chasing my lips with his own. "Because you're in mine too, little one. Everything I have and everything I am, is yours. It will always be yours. Even on your worst days, I'll be yours."
"Theo," I sob.
"Tell me, Charlotte," he breathes against my lips. Only he's not demanding. Not at all. I think he's pleading with me this time, begging me to give him the words he's dying to hear. I want to scream them from the rooftops, just to make sure he hears. Butthis moment is too big for that. It's too perfect for that. So I don't scream them.
I whisper them instead. "I love you, Theo."
"Charlotte," he roars. He fucks me then, pounding into me as if he can't stop himself. He's wild above me, growling my name as he takes me hard enough to knock me breathless.
I revel in every powerful thrust, crying out his name until my voice breaks. UntilIbreak, crying his name into the room, babbling it to the heavens. I hope they hear me. I hope they know I'm claiming his soul too. No one else can have it. I won't let them.
"Ah, God, baby doll," he groans. "Say it again. Say it again."
"I love you."
He falls on top of me, his weight pressing me into the bed. "Goddamn, little one," he whispers, still rocking into me. "I'm never letting you go now."
"Good," I whisper. It's what I want more than anything. To be his today, tomorrow, and every day that comes after.
He makes love to me slowly, his lips never leaving mine until I'm gasping and mewling beneath him again, ready to tumble over the edge into bliss. I don't fall alone this time. He goes with me, whispering my name as he writhes on top of me, giving me every single piece of him. And like the greedy little fairy he calls me, I hoard them close, keeping them all to myself.
"Where were you today?" I ask him later, cuddled up on his chest on the couch. He carried me downstairs an hour ago. We ate cold spaghetti on the kitchen floor and then made love on the table. When we were done, he picked me up and carried me in here.
