Page 135 of Bitter When He Begs

I move just enough to glance down at him. His mouth is slightly parted, dark lashes brushing against his cheeks, hair sticking up in about five different directions like he lost a fight with the pillow. He’s got that small crease between his brows that only smooths out when I kiss it, which I’m about to do in a second, but not yet. Not until I burn this image into my memory first.

Because fuck, he’s beautiful like this.

I reach for my phone with my free hand, careful not to jostle him as I open the front-facing camera. I adjust the angleto frame both of us—his cheek pressed to my chest, my arm wrapped around him.

I snap the pic, then I stare at it for a second longer than I should. My finger hovers over the caption bar, and I don’t even hesitate before I hit post.

I toss the phone on the nightstand afterward, tuck my arm tighter around Sage’s waist, and lean down to press my lips to his forehead. Just a soft kiss, barely there. “Morning, baby.”

He groans, shifting slightly but not pulling away, his fingers digging into my ribs like he knows I woke him up on purpose. “Luca,” he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep. “Too early.”

I chuckle and tighten my arms around him. “It’s never too early to appreciate my boyfriend.”

His body tenses just for a second, as if the reality of us still hasn’t sunk in even months later. He makes another disgruntled noise, burrowing deeper against my chest. “Too early for your bullshit.”

I grin. “Too early for my affection?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

He groans again, but it’s weaker this time, and I just know he’s fighting a smile. I nudge my nose against his temple. “C’mon, Sunshine. Wake up.”

“No.”

I run my fingers down his spine, feeling the way he shivers beneath my touch. “You’re fucking adorable when you sleep, you know that? Wrapped around me like a little vine.”

Sage huffs and finally cracks one eye open to glare up at me. “You did not just call me a vine.”

“You are, though.”

He groans, burying his face back into my chest again. “Why am I dating you?”

I press another kiss to the top of his head. “Because I’m irresistible.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “delusional bastard” against my skin, but I just hold him tighter, letting the warmth of him seep into my bones.

“Shut up.”

I smirk. “Nah, I don’t think I will.”

He finally lifts his head, blinking up at me with heavy, sleep-laden eyes, and fuck, he’s unfairly pretty. His long blond hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed from sleep, and his lips—God, his lips—

“What?” he mutters, voice thick and raspy.

I just shake my head, my fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against the bare skin of his hip.

His brows furrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I hum, dragging my thumb across his lower lip, feeling the way his breath catches. “Because I can,” I murmur. “Because I missed you, baby.”

His breath stutters, his fingers twitching against my skin. And when I kiss him, slow and deep, he melts into me like he always does.

When we finally drag ourselves out of bed, I feel lighter than I have in months. Maybe years.

Sage is still half-asleep when I nudge him toward the shower, muttering under his breath about how he hates mornings, and how I better have coffee ready when he gets out or he’s stealing my truck and leaving me stranded.

I just smirk, slapping his ass and making him yelp before flipping me off over his shoulder.

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