I promise him everything.
CHAPTER 60 – ANTONIO
The drive to his house is quiet but full of anticipation. I keep glancing atCaspian—at the beautiful, devastating reality of him—and wondering how someone like him can exist.
He didn’t give up. He fought for me. Believed me.
His presence does something to me.
He makes me want to surrender to the safety he provides.
There’s something intoxicating about that. About being held firmly but not restrained.
With Caspian, I finally understand why I’ve never wanted anyone else—why wanting anyone else would be impossible.
What I feel for him settles low in my body, like anchors dropping steadily into place. Not heavy, not dragging me under—just enough to keep me grounded.
Close to him. Where I’m safest.
I can’t take another second not touching him.
“Pull over,” I say, my voice frantic. “Caspian, please.”
He glances at me, stopping the engine. “We’re already here.”
Still, I unbuckle my seatbelt in a frenzy and climb over the console to his lap, clinging to him with all that I have.
I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent, then I grab his face and kiss him until the world turns into a blur of heat and salt from my tears.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he murmurs, his hands steadying my trembling frame. “Everything’s alright, baby.”
“I love you,” I cry, the words feeling too small for this moment.
“I love you too.”
“Don’t let me go. Ever.”
“I won’t. Not a chance.”
Somehow he manages to open the door and get us both out while I’m clinging to him like a koala.
I keep kissing him everywhere I can reach, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, whispering please over and over—not even knowing what I’m asking for, only that I need the answer to be Caspian.
Inside, he carries me upstairs.
He sets me down on the bed, and already I’m protesting the inch of space between us.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice a low, grounding hum. “I’m right here.”
His eyes are dark and intense, but his movements are unhurried.
The more frenzied I get, the calmer he becomes.
When he starts undressing me, it’s like he’s unwrapping a long-awaited gift.
“Hurry up,” I demand, tugging at his polo shirt. His skin is warm, pure muscle and solid strength.
I fumble with the waistband of his jeans impatiently.
