Page 312 of Ruin Me Gently

Please say something, Lilith.

Her mouth opened, then closed again, like she couldn’t get the words out. Her hand lifted halfway, shaking slightly, before she stopped and pressed her knuckles hard against her mouth.

“You idiot,” she finally choked out. “You big, stupid behemoth of a man.”

Her laugh broke through, breath hitching hard. “Okay,” she swallowed thickly. “Yes. Yes, Silas. Yes.”

I didn’t even remember moving—I was just there, wrapping my arms around her before she could finish the words.

I kissed her hair, her temple, her mouth, whispering against her skin between kisses, like I couldn’t say it enough.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo…”

Her hands were in my hair, twisting tight like she was trying to hold me together.

“I love you,” I whispered again, voice breaking. “Per sempre.”

“For fucking ever,” she whispered back.

And then she kissed me, hard and messy, like she was trying to crawl inside my ribs and set up a home in there.

I kissed her deeper, like I could drown in her and still come up breathing. My hand slid down her waist, fingers curling at her hip, tugging her closer.

Her fingers skimmed down my stomach, over my belt, and before I could stop her, she cupped me through my slacks.

“Lilith,” I groaned, voice scraping out of my throat. “No.”

She pulled back. “Why not?”

I gestured vaguely to our surroundings—the quiet little courtyard, the pastel-painted windows, the soft strum of the guitar drifting down the street.

“Because,” I said, breathless. “We’re in the open. At sunset. And I’m not about to fuck my future wife on the goddamn cobblestones.”

Her mouth twitched, her hand still stubbornly resting where it shouldn’t. “Future wife, huh?”

“You said yes,” I reminded her, dragging her hand away before I lost the last bit of self-control I had left. “That makes you my future wife. So, come on. I’m not giving someone’s grandparents a free show.”

She snorted, but let me pull her to her feet.

We wove through the streets, her hand snug in mine. I would’ve run, but I hadn’t sprinted across cobblestones since I was a kid, and I wasn’t about to risk breaking something now, or pissing her off by suggesting exercising. Not when I’d just somehow, miraculously convinced her to marry me.

Our Airbnb was tucked away down a quieter street, a little three-story building with weathered terracotta bricks and arched wooden shutters that probably hadn’t been replaced in a hundred years. The doorway was framed by ivy curling stubbornly up the stone, and a wrought iron lantern hung crooked above the door, flickering faintly in the evening light.

Lilith barely paused when we reached the door.

She grabbed me with brutal force and kissed me like she’d been holding her breath since the moment I pulled her up from the cobbles in the courtyard.

My back hit the doorframe, and I pulled away slightly, fumbling blindly for the keys, but Lilith wasn’t having it. She grabbed my collar, yanked me in, and kissed me harder—teeth scraping my bottom lip, her breath hot and uneven.

“Lilith,” I muttered against her mouth, shoving my hand into my pocket, feeling around for the keys.

“Faster,” she murmured, her mouth dragging along my jaw.

“I’m trying,” I gritted out.

My fingers finally found the cold metal, and I wrangled the key into the lock. The door creaked open, and she pushed me again, both of us stumbling inside.

I barely had time to get the key back out before her hands slid under my shirt, scraping her nails along my ribs.

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