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Oh. Is he worried he’s upset me?
“Serena,” he starts again, rough with emotion. “I am so sorry. I—I can’t even tell you how fucking sorry I am.”
I open my mouth and try to reassure him, but he’s more frantic by the second, running his shaking hands over my arms, my sides, my hips.
“Did I hurt you?” he mumbles, squinting to see my skin… and the bruises splotched on my thighs. “Jesus. Of course I hurt you. I’m almost three hundred fucking pounds, and you—you’re?—”
Horror flashes through his gaze. “Oh fuck. I didn’t knot you, did I? Serena, I swear to God, I will go and drown myself in the fucking pool if I knotted you or tried to bite or?—”
“Hey,” I snap, then soften. “Whoa. Slow down, big man. I’m okay. See? I’m fine.”
There’s a moment of tense stillness. Then he snatches me into his arms, snuggling me tightly and dropping his face to mine.
“God,” he breathes, kissing my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose. “I’m so fucking sorry, hummingbird. So sorry. I love you so much, I never would have?—”
I go rigid in his arms, suddenly fighting to breathe. “Y-you—what?”
He rolls onto his back, bringing my body with his. Cuddling me sweetly. “I love you,” he murmurs, certain and steady. “You’re everything to me. Maybe I should have told you before. I just wanted you to feel ready.”
Ready for him. Ready to accept all of the things he’s been trying to give me since the first night he attempted to wrestle Avery out of my room. And every day after—with each plate of food and every patient life lesson. All of his cuddles and his jokes and the reverent way he touches me all the time.
He loves me.
My heart swells and soars as tears well in my eyes.
Because, well.
No one has ever said that to me before.
I know Avery has, in his way. Without words. But this feels different.
Splatters spill over my lashes and Jonah softens even more, cradling me against him so tenderly.
“Manamea,” he sighs. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make this up to you. I’ll talk to Doc about taking rut-blockers. They can bench me if they have to, I don’t fucking care?—”
I press my fingertips into his lips, feeling his facial hair against the pads. My nipples prick, but I ignore them, mumbling my plea.
“Say it again.”
His sweet scent deepens as he rolls us back, putting me underneath him and stretching his arm over my head to pet my hair. His warm gaze sinks into mine, all sincerity and devotion. “I love you.”
When more tears stream from my eyes, he says it again. And again. He whispers it into my skin as he kisses me, then settles between my legs.
Again as I nip at his neck, and again when he gently presses into my pussy.
My core trembles, welcoming him back without any complaint. We move together while he leaves love all across my skin. Until I swear I can feel it sinking into my soul.
This time, he works himself into me much slower. The ledge of his brow folds over his amber eyes, betraying hesitation.
“I’m too fucking big,” he mutters, worry singeing the edges of his toasty scent.
I smooth my fingers over the creases in his forehead. “No, you were right. I’m your mate—and we fit perfectly.”
I swear I catch a bit of mist in his eyes before he bears down, finally giving me what I want. And—God—it really is perfect.
Once I’m gasping and moaning around the earth-shattering thickness of his cock, he goes rigid, holding himself still.
Holding himself back.
