“It should sound terrible, but it’s actually really hot,” I murmur, a whimper escaping my lips as my orgasm hovers just out of reach.
Cupping my face, Ford gazes into my eyes. “I love you, Harper Wallace.”
And then my vision blurs at the edges, my thighs clamp around him, and my fingernails dig into his shoulders. I cry out his name as my body pulses around him, our gazes locked together.
His pupils dilate further as he watches me come undone, his lips parted, breath ragged, whispering “yes” with each wave that crashes through me.
I collapse against his chest, breathing heavily as he holds me close, allowing me to wind down. “I love watching you come, too,” he murmurs.
Kissing him softly, I shake my head. “You are remarkable.”
In one swift motion, he flips us over. My back presses into the cool sheets as his weight settles between my thighs. His hips rock forward—slow, deep, precise. He hooks his arm under my knee, opening me further, and his lips find that sensitive spot below my ear. My toes curl, my fingers dig into the muscles of his back. The headboard taps rhythmically against the wall.
His breathing grows ragged against my neck, his movements less controlled. Heat builds low in my belly, my thighs begin to tremble—when suddenly three words bubble up from somewhere deep inside me. The growing sensation of warmth disappears as I stare at the man above me in awe.
Oh my God.
“Harper,” Ford moans, thrusting three more times before filling me.
Disappointment flickers in his eyes as he searches mine, and his jaw tightens as he realizes I didn’t come with him. His weight shifts slightly, but he doesn’t move away.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I get it now.”
He frowns. “Get what?”
“Feeling like you might explode.”
“I was trying to get you to explode again. What happened? You were close. I felt it—”
“I love you.”
He goes perfectly still, his eyes widening. For a heartbeat, I think he’s stopped breathing. Then his chest rises sharply.
“Say that again,” he whispers, voice catching on the last word.
The corners of my mouth lift. Something expands beneath my ribs, radiating heat through my limbs until my fingertips tingle.
“I love you, Ford.”
His mouth finds mine with such urgency that our teeth almost clash. In one fluid motion, he shifts his weight, pulling me on top of him, his fingers pressing into the small of my back. Against my lips, he murmurs, “If this is a dream...” His voice breaks, and he swallows hard. “Don’t let me wake up.”
“You’re not dreaming. But this feels like the greatest dream I’ve ever had.”
“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
Chapter 43
Ford
Harper loves me. She told me, and it was the best present I’ve ever received. I had been so sure she was running away and wouldn’t return, but the night turned around quickly. Now, here she is, in my arms, on her favorite day of the year.
She stirs as golden morning sunlight spills through the blinds, painting stripes across her sleep-flushed cheeks and the tangled mess of her hair on my pillow. Her eyelashes flutter against her skin like butterfly wings.
“Morning,” I say softly, barely above a whisper, keeping my voice low in case she’s not ready to wake up yet, afraid to break the spell of having her here in my bed.
“Mmm, morning.”
