“Sorry,” I whisper.
“I wasn’t complaining.”
I manage a weak smile and tilt my head to look up at him.
“For all my lack of sleep,” he says, gathering my hair to one side of my shoulder, “I’ve never been so alive.”
I snort and put my head back down. God, he’s cheesy.
“I’m serious.” His fingers hook under my chin and tilt my face back up until I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “You should know… I think I was half-dead before you, just going through the motions. But then you,” his eyes flare darkly, “you woke me up. You make me feel everything I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. Rage, fear, hope… love.”
My cheeks heat at his admission, and I lower my chin, letting my lashes shield me. It’s not that I don’t like it, I just… I don’t know what to do with it. Acknowledging it feels too big, too delicate. My instinct is to crawl out of my own skin and flinch away from the confession. I was never taught how to be soft. Nix and I rarely put our feelings into words because being vulnerable was a luxury we didn’t have.
He releases a slow, disappointed breath. “Are we still doing this?”
I know what he’s asking—am I still pretending this isn’t consuming me, still pretending I can hold back what’s already too far gone? But even if I wanted to, I can’t afford to hold him at arm’s length anymore. My time is running out.
“No,” I surrender.
“Then tell me you love me.” He grips the thigh I have draped over him and pulls me farther so I’m straddling him.
I gasp at the way he handles me, catching myself with my hands against his chest. The hard plane is steady, and I push myself up to meet his eyes. “I…”
He growls and grinds himself against me, the firm shaft of him pressing right against my center. “Say it.” He grasps my hips, locking me into place.
A moan escapes me at the feel of him, and I arch into it, suddenly throbbing. “God, you’re big,” I say.
His expression tightens, patience fraying. “Kira.”
I lift my shirt over my head, letting my nipples peak against the air before bringing myself over him, running my hands up his shirt so I can press myself against his chest. His skin is hot against my breasts, and I kiss his neck, loving the way he tastes, needing this release.
“Kira.” His cock pulsates beneath me, but he doesn’t make a move to take me.
“Hm?” I muse as I roll my hips and run my hands up and down his body.
His muscles are rigid, his whole body taut with tension, and he begins to shake as I slip a hand between us, under the rim of his pants.
“Please,” he grits, muscles rippling as his fingers dig into my flesh. “Put me out of my misery.”
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” I breathe, throwing his words from the last time we went at it back at him.
“I want—” He suddenly groans as I palm his cock, thick and hot in my hand, and I stroke him slowly, enjoying the way his head tilts back and his breath turns ragged.
“Don’t stop now.” I bat my lashes at him. “You were doingso well.” I quote him as I stroke him, enjoying the way his eyes roll back and his body shudders.
But then his hand viciously clamps around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His pupils are blown, ravenous as hepins me in their depths. I lick my lips, and his gaze snaps to the movement. Without warning, he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me so deeply that my body melts against his. His tongue slides against mine, demanding and intoxicating, and I respond instinctively, molding to him—tasting, drowning, breathing him.
His hands roam, locking around my back, pulling me impossibly closer, and the pulsing between us thrums with heat. My fingers dig into his chest, memorizing the tension of his muscles and the strength he harbors.
“Kira…” he groans, breaking the kiss just enough to brush his forehead against mine. His voice is rough and filled with need. “Say it. Please. If you feel it, say it.”
I bite my lip, head swimming as I catch my breath. Every part of me screams that I do, my body is literally melded to his in submission, but he wants words, and try as I might, my throat closes up before I can speak.
“Look at me,” he demands and forces my chin up. “Look at me and hear me when I say, Iloveyou, Kira Noland. If you don’t feel the same, if you just want to fuck me, I’m yours to use. But if you do, if you love me, I need to hear you say it.”
Something in me shatters, the cage that I keep the most vulnerable parts of myself locked away in, and I know if I don’t give him this, I’ll only be hurting myself.
“I love you,” I breathe.
