“Your heart is safe to open. Repeat it.”
“My heart is safe to open.” Her eyes widened. It suddenly felt as if she could take a deep breath, deeper even than she’d ever done before. “My heart is safe to love.”
“It is, love.” He arched his brows. “Now do you feel it? Maybe a little?”
She was about to say, no, she felt nothing different. But she did feel something. There was desire, of course. His naked body was next to hers, and he was glorious. But there was a sweetness mixed with a kind of pain right at her breastbone.
There couldn’t possibly be a physical sensation, could there? To opening one’s heart?
“Say it again,” he urged.
“My heart is safe to love.” She looked into his eyes. “My heart is safe to love you.”
“As my heart is safe to love you.”
How was it possible? It was like her breastbone was fragmenting, but in a good way. It ached, and yet the warmth that flowed through the cracks stunned her. And while she was shocked by these feelings, he stroked her cheek.
“I love you, Clara. I’ll never take away your books. I’ll never hurt your body. And I’ll always have the time to listen to you.”
A sob racked her body. When had she started crying?
“You heart is safe with me, Clara. Just as I know my heart is safe with you.”
“It is,” she said through tears that smeared her vision. “I’d never hurt you.”
“Because my heart is safe with you.” He wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Now tell me what you feel?”
“So much,” she whispered. Hot. Cold. Excited. Afraid. Wild rushes of elation followed by dizzying whirls of confusion.
“Aye,” he agreed. “That’s love.”
She blinked away her tears. “I love you?” she asked.
“I think so.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “What do you think?”
That this had to be love. It was so wild, so uncontained. She felt buffeted by it, and yet she had never felt safer because she was in his arms. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “I love you.” She looked up into his eyes. “I love you!”
“At last,” he said, then he kissed her.
She wasn’t ready for it. She’d already experienced a thousand different types of kisses from him, from sweetly tender to darkly passionate. She was expecting something like what they’d shared so many times before. What she got instead was a rush of feeling from inside her. Sweet, dark, tender, and demanding—all in a wild ride of need and surprise.
So, while he was kissing her, she was loving him. She pressed her mouth to his. She plunged her tongue into his mouth. She angled her body until they were heart to heart. She squirmed as she adjusted her legs to straddle him. And then she ripped herself back from him and gasped out her words over the beat of her thundering heart.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you,” he returned.
“Marry me, Liam. Let me be safe with you forever. Let me love you always.”
“Always, Clara. Yes.”
His hands slid to her hips. He was ever careful with her, but she was in no mood to stop. She gripped his shoulders and arched her back.
“I love you, Liam,” she said, now feeling it through every part of her body.
“I love you, Clara.”
He thrust.
