“Just… kiss me," he says softly. “Kiss me like it’s the last time you’re ever going to kiss me.”
I look up into his verdant gaze. Something about the words feel heavy, almost melancholy, but when I see the sparkle in them, I can’t deny him.
The words that fall out of my mouth are mine, but they are not.
They are my voice, and I feel them, but… they come from some other part of me. A part of me no one else knows, and I don’t think anyone else ever will know it.
Just him.
I slide my hands through his hair as I kiss him with every fibre of my being and whisper those two words I never thought I’d say toanyman.
“Yes, Sir.”
I kiss his lips softly. I pull his bottom lip between my teeth and gently nip at it before I kiss it and suck it gently. I kiss the side of his mouth, his neck, that spot just below his ear which makes him shiver. I take his hand from my neck and press my lips to his palm. Popping the buttons on his collar, I slide my hand over the open space and kiss his collarbone. I kiss his hair, his mouth again, and then I pull him tight against my chest and kiss his temple, his smooth hair tickling my nose.
Oliver wraps his arms around me, and for a moment we stay just like that. Him straddling me in my driver’s seat, arms and limbs entangled around me like a damn monkey around a tree, but I have never felt more content in all my life.
“We should go,” he murmurs into my shirt, and I nod.
“Yes.”
I gently shift him, and he follows my lead, sitting back in his seat. The whole way back to my house, he is quiet. Quieter than usual. I settle my hand on his thigh and squeeze him gently and his hand finds mine with ease. He doesn’t squeeze, but his grip is tight. I can tell that he is nervous.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, but I absentmindedly lock it and ignore it.
Whoever it is can wait. Right now, I want to spend the next few hours with my little rabbit.
I’d given a lot of thought to this, ever since that day at the tailors.
My worry about whether or not a relationship with Oliver would work still hovers in the distance, but…
The ache of not knowing if itwouldwins out. Today, Oliver not only showed up for me, he showed up for Veil. For Phantom.
He fits into my life so perfectly it’s like he was made to be there. I believe that a relationship with Oliver Greenwillwork.
If he is willing to accept me and all my shadowed facets, I will gladly submit to him in all things. If he wants this—if he wantsmethe way I want him— it is worth the risk.
When we get to my house, I turn the car off, and for a moment we just sit there, in silence. Companionable, warm silence. I look at him carefully.
“You can still change your mind," I say. “It isn’t too late, you know.”
Oliver looks at me, his vibrant gaze determined and full of something that shakes me to my core.
Because I know in that one look, he knows it too. He knows the words that are caught in my throat. The truth neither of us speak.
I’ve never told another man I love him. Ever. I’d always told myself love didn’t exist for me, and therefore, none of the men I’d been with or the subs I served ever heard such endearments from me.
But here I sit with Oliver, and I want to say them. I want to scream them from the bloody rooftops, privacy be damned.
But I need to tread carefully, too. I’d told him he was perfect, and he safe-worded. He started to cry.
I’m certain Oliver has never heard those words from a man, either, and I know saying them for the first time is just as delicate as hearing for the first time. So I don’t say them. Not yet.
There are other ways, after all, to express oneself.
So I get up and exit the car. I open his door. I offer him my hand and he takes it and I pull him into my arms and kiss him until I can’t breathe.
Oliver settles in my arms, his fingertips tracing the edge of my facial hair. His Stone Timeworks watch—which I’d outfitted with both Veil and Ghost—is cool against my skin.
