“I love you,” I say softly, my voice choking as all that emotion climbs up my throat, almost overtaking me. “I can’t leave you. I won’t leave you. I want to stay.”
The words are unplanned and take me by surprise, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t true.
His upper body stiffens, his steps becoming slower. He pulls his head back and eyes me carefully. “Are you being serious?”
I swallow and nod. “Yes,” I tell him, staring deep in his eyes. “Yes, yes. I want to stay. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, leaving you. I can’t go back to the life I had, not after this life here, as brief as it has been. I know what I want and I want you.”
He stops moving and cups my face in his hands and I can feel his strength seep into my skin. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” he says, shaking his head. “No idea. No idea.” He kisses me hard, passionately and fingers sink into my hair, his forehead resting against mine. “I will give you everything you need. I will be everything you need me to be. I’ll take care of you.”
I’m about to protest that I don’t need a man to take care of me, but I clamp my mouth shut and don’t say a word. Because I do need Lachlan, at least in terms of my heart, and I also know how much it matters sometimes to just feel needed. I want him to feel that, to know that I need him as much as he needs me.
“I know you will,” I eventually say. “You’re my man.”
He breathes heavily into my neck, almost a gasp. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
“You do make me happy,” I tell him truthfully. “Sometimes I don’t think it can possibly get better but then it turns out there is more room in my heart than I thought.”
He sighs blissfully, holding me closer for a few moments. Then he whispers, “We need to find a room,” and his voice is back to that warm, growly tone that makes my panties wet in a second. Hell yes, we need to find a room. All these proclamations of love need somewhere to go.
He takes my arm and strides across the dance floor, shoulders back, taking long, wide steps, like he’s the King of everything. My eyes are peeled for a cloakroom as we dodge people here and there, especially avoiding Jessica because she doesn’t need to know what we’re about to do. We disappear around the corner, past the hotel reception, and find the washroom. It’s the best that we can do.
He pulls me into it, looks back and forth down the hall to make sure no one saw us, then locks the door.
I’m backed up against the sink, my hands resting on the edges, waiting for his onslaught.
But he doesn’t attack me, at least not right away. He just stares at me and our eyes are locked with each other.
“What?” I whisper to him, afraid to break the spell.
He tilts his head to the side, observing me, frowning, as if I am some riddle he’s trying to solve.
“Did you mean it?” he asks. “When you said you would stay?”
It nearly hurts that he sounds so doubtful. “Of course I did. I meant every word.”
“Do you promise?” he asks, stepping toward me, leaning forward with both hands on the edge of the sink.
I hold out my pinky finger. “I pinky swear.”
He dismisses it with a glance. “Nah, that’s rubbish. Your word is more than enough.” He brushes my hair behind my ears. “I want to make you feel as incredible as you make me feel.”
He grabs my hips and hoists me up so that I’m balanced on the edge of the sink, my hands gripping the sides to keep me steady. He tugs my dress up and over my ass, then crouches down, his head between my legs.
I barely have time to compose myself, to prepare. He’s at me like he’s starving, his fingers sliding me apart, his tongue and mouth so soft and warm. I feel every sensation like a hammer, each stroke a hit, radiating outward.
I want so much from him. I want him deep inside, all of him. But among his satisfied groans and his hungry sounds, I know he just wants to devour me. He wants me to have as much pleasure as he can humanely bring me, because he isn’t sure that he’s doing enough, making me feel enough.