“Timing,” he mutters after a couple of minutes.
“Sorry.” I kiss him softly. “I had to say it.”
“Would you mind repeating it in case I—”
I put my finger to his lips. “You didn’t dream it. I love you.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“Do I need to say it again?”
“It might help.”
“I love you.” I skim my lips over his jaw. “I love you.” And capture his lips with mine. “I love you.”
I stare into his eyes again. Waiting. Hoping. It’s hard to breathe, and my chest has become almost painfully tight.
Quinn touches my brow and slowly traces the curves of my face with his fingers like he’s trying to memorise the shape of my face. My chest squeezes tighter. I hope his touch and silence aren’t bad signs. I’ve moved too fast. Spoken prematurely. Fuck.
“Don’t look so worried.” He runs the soft pad of his finger over my lower lip. Then he presses his hand over my thrashing heart. “I love you too.”
I gasp and grin. “Really?”
“Yes. I just needed a moment to think about it. To make sure I was awake and that this—all this—was real.”
“It is.” I kiss him.
“Stefan.”
“Yes?”
“You were going to make love to me.”
I nuzzle his jaw. “I was, wasn’t I?”
I get more lube and give my cock a quick stroke to make sure it’s slick and hard again. I thread my fingers through Quinn’s, press his hands against the pillow, and stare into his eyes as I slowly, gently ease my cock into him. It’s amazing to be inside the comforting, pulsating heat of his body. He lets out a slow breath. His jaw trembles, and his eyes brim with tears.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m happy. And emotional.” He sniffs. “It’s your fault.”
“My fault?”
“For telling me you love me.”
“I do.” I dip down to kiss him softly, rocking deeper at the same time. “What can I do to make it better?”
“Make love to me.”
“I can do that.”
I squeeze his fingers and kiss him as I roll my hips achingly slowly. He wraps his legs around me again, drawing me deeper inside him. I feel more connected to him than ever before like there’s an invisible thread joining our hearts. My heart crashes in time with his. Our lips move in synch. His body yields to me in every way, soft, warm, and inviting. Even our quiet moans are in time and in tune with one another.
“I love you,” I whisper in the brief pause between kisses. Then my lips are on his again, devouring him like he’s the last thing I’ll ever touch or taste. “I love you.”
I revel in the softness of his lips and the sweetness of his smile. His stare bores into mine, conveying so much love it makes me tremble. I’m his.
“I love you too.” His eyebrows tense together, and he releases a small gasp.
