“You're so tight,” he manages, his rhythm faltering. “Every time you squeeze—every time you say it—I can barely keep from?—”
I nip at his jaw and then his bottom lip, delighting in the fiery growl he makes when it snaps free from my teeth. “Then stop holding back.”
Something snaps and he hooks his hands under my knees, spreads me wider, changes the angle so he's hitting a spot that makes me see stars.
And then hetakes.
No more restraint. No more control.
Just raw, desperate need pouring out of him with every thrust.
“Eleven years,” he growls against my throat. “Eleven years I've been waiting to hear you say it?—”
“I love you.”
“—dreaming about it?—”
“I love you.”
“—imagining what it would feel like to hear those words while I'm inside you?—”
The orgasm hits me without warning. One second I'm teetering on the edge, the next I'm shattering, my whole body convulsing, my inner walls clamping down on him as the sensation drags his name from my throat.
He follows me over within seconds, burying himself to the hilt and breaking with a sound that's half groan,half sob.
Pulsing inside me, his body shudders in waves as he empties himself deep with my name on his lips.
Mine. Finally, finally mine.
Breathing hard, hearts pounding in tandem, we cling to one another.
He buries his face in my neck, arms braced on either side of me, elbows locked, every muscle in his body strung tight as he trembles from head to toe.
Above us, his photograph drips steadily onto the floor.
The red light hums.
And then, so quiet I almost miss it, his voice vibrates against my skin. “I love you too.”
When I pull back and look at him, I find the single most beautifully shattered smile and warm brown eyes wet with unshed tears.
“I love you,” he says again, louder this time. Steadier. “I've always loved you, Sierra. Through every year I stayed gone. Through every night I spent wondering if I'd ever get to say it to your face again.”
He presses his forehead to mine.
“But hearing you say it?” His voice cracks. “That's the only dream I've ever really had. And you just made it real.”
Tears spill down my hot cheeks. I don’t know when they started. I’m laughing through them anyway, and he’s kissing the salt off my cheeks, and everything is a wreck—wet and sticky and perfect. Exactly wrong andexactly right all at once.
I won’t be able to go back to the way we’ve been tomorrow. I won’t be able to stomach hiding.
“I'm sorry it took me so long,” I whisper.
“Don't be.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, his lips curving against mine. “You were worth every miserable second of the wait.”
A shaky laugh slips out of me. “Remember you said that when my brothers start plotting your murder.”
“Deal,” he murmurs brushing a lingering kiss over my lips. “At least I’ll die happy.”
