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“You’re trying to kill me,” she groans. “I’m dead.”
“We can get joint gravesites,” I huff, still trying to catch my breath.
She snorts beneath me. “That’s romantic.”
I ease out of her, wincing when I leave the tight grip of her body, sitting back on my calves as I watch my come slide down her thigh. I give into my urges and place my thumb just under the thin stream, pushing it back up until my thumb shoves it back inside. Lila shivers, and I hold my thumb there as I lean over, pressing kisses into her spine.
“You really are a mess,” I murmur.
“Who’s fault is that?”
I smile against her skin. “You won’t find any apologies here.”
“Yeah, well. You get to clean me up.”
My cock twitches, taking her words in an entirely different way from how she likely means them, and my smile turns impish as I skim my lips lower, palming her hips to hold her in place as I bring my mouth between her legs to nuzzle there, warming at the soft sounds that escape her when I slide my tongue through our combined orgasm, slipping it inside her before drawing it back out.
“Happy to.”
We’re both boneless and spent as we lie on her bed some indeterminate time later, her head on my shoulder as my fingers lace through the tangled strands of her hair to gently separate them. Her arm is slung over my chest, her thigh cradling my hip, and her cheek resting over my heart, and that overwhelming, wonderful sensation of being so settled is so strong that I feel overflowing with it, like I might burst at the seams. And yet, despite being so full, I’ve never felt more at peace than I do at this moment.
“My legs are Jell-O,” she mumbles against my chest. “Are you sleeping here?”
“Mm. Jack will wonder where I am.”
She nuzzles my pec. “We should just tell him.”
“We should?”
She lifts her head, propping up on her elbow and looking down at me. “Do you want to?”
“I want to tell fucking everyone,” I say without missing a beat.
Her answering smile is breathtaking, and that swelling feeling brims with something else—something warm and consuming and new that has my breath catching.
God, I love her.
The thought hits me all at once, but strangely, it doesn’t surprise me.
It was inevitable, I think, that she would mark me, that she would take everything, things I want her to take, things I want her to keep and hold on to. Everything I have. I never stood a chance against her.
Because Lila is like lightning on the sand—bright and powerful as it strikes, obliterating all the tiny grains of scattered pieces that feel so disjointed and unsettled and creating something new, leaving something more beautiful behind in its wake. That’s what Lila’s done to me. Taken all my pieces that didn’t fit and molded them into something beautiful. Something that’s hers entirely.
I manage a shaky inhale, the words there on my tongue but caught, worry about our history and our present and the short time that we’ve come back into each other’s lives holding me back. I open my mouth to say something—what, I’m not sure—but Lila speaks before I can get the words out.
“So do I,” she says warmly, tracing the freckles on my chest as her eyes follow the path of her finger. “I want to.”
There are so many times in my life that I’ve felt undeserving, felt like I had to be better, that I had to be more, but right now, with her…I feel like I can just be. Like everything I am is enough, because Lila deemed it so.
“Then let’s do it,” I tell her. “Let’s tell everyone.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely.” I place my hand over hers, squeezing it. “How should we do it?”
“Hmm.” She purses her lips, considering. “Dramatic gesture? I’m a big fan of the kiss cams.” I wrinkle my nose, and she laughs. “No?”
“I can’t think of anything that makes me want to crawl into a hole more than being caught on one of those things.”
