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“Self-sacrifice is not honorable; it’s the coward’s way out. And you don’t look like a coward to me, Quinn. I know you aren’t. You’ve fought beside me every step of the way, and now you’re giving up. You’re giving up because of some unrealistic notion that you get to play God and have a hand in my fate. In Tristan’s.”
But as he stands rigid, unresponsive to my pleas, I know only one thing I can say will make him understand. “I don’t want Tristan. I want you. I love…you. No one else, only you,” I whisper, afraid I’ve shared too much.
Suddenly, I’m rewarded with the response I so desperately craved, and the sight before me is one I will remember for the rest of my life.
Quinn locks his eyes with mine, and I can see that this changes everything.
And there’s no turning back.
“You love me?”
“Yes, Quinn. I love you. Before you, I only ever wanted to exist in the darkness. But now, you are the light in my forever darkness.”
However, his stunned expression has me concerned that he may not feel the same way.
“Do you…love me?”
Taking a step toward me, he clutches my cheeks in his palms. “Love you?” he questions, his eyes searching every inch of my face. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts. You’ve possessed me, but I’ve never felt so alive.”
Before I have a chance to reply, he swoops forward and slams his mouth to mine.
He owns me; every part of me is his, so I happily surrender and let this moment overtake us both.
This kiss drowns with urgency, but it’s also draped in love because we are both open and honest for the first time ever, both stripped bare for the other to see. And what I see is simply beautiful.
I yank at the messy strands of hair curling at his nape, and he groans into my mouth, relishing in the hard pressure. He wraps me in his arms and enfolds me into his embrace so tightly, I can scarcely breathe. But who needs oxygen when Quinn Berkeley is your life source?
But I want more, so I mold my mouth to his, kissing him fiercely and demanding his tongue. I whimper when his barbell finally caresses me deliriously slow, but it’s still not enough.
I need more.
His hard-on has me craving more, and suddenly, I know that there’s only one thing that will ever be enough.
And when Quinn backs me up toward a sofa in the corner of the room, I know he feels it, too.
Lowering me onto the soft cushions while never breaking our connection, I know this is what he was waiting for. This is perfect. This is our something like perfect.
His gentle movements are filled with passion and desire, and I feel it all. My body is so in sync with his that I feel every breath he takes. But after his lips burn a pathway down my throat and come to rest at my frantic pulse, I feel him pull away.
“Why did you stop?” I breathlessly ask, looking up at him, my body begging him to continue.
He slowly sits back on his heels, and as my eyes drop to his crotch, I know it’s not due to lack of excitement.
“If we do this, then you need to know it all. And if you still”—he pauses—“and if you still want me after you’ve heard it all, then I’m yours. I’ll forever be yours.”
Sitting up, I place my hand over his heart. “I’ll always want you.”
I lie back down, resting my head on the armrest and giving him my full attention.
Quinn nods before lowering his head. He’s still on his knees before me as he commences his tale. “I did something terrible. Something I wish I could take back. But that’s the fucked-up thing. I can never take back my sins.”
I listen, remaining silent, not wanting to interrupt this long-overdue confession.
“I wasn’t always a bad kid. I loved my mom. I knew that she stayed with my dad ’cause of us. I knew she sacrificed her happiness for us. But the day he hurt me…”
His fingers gently pass over his brow, and I remember Tristan revealing that their father once hit Quinn so hard he split his forehead open.
At the time, Quinn was ten.
