Page 157 of Let Me In

Low.

Grounded.

“Because I am.”

And I feel it—that quiet reverence in his voice, like a thread of heat winding low through my belly. It settles in my chest, not like a shock, but like recognition. Like something I’ve waited my whole life to hear.

The air stills around us, the heat of the fire fading beneath the sudden weight of his gaze.

“I’ve got something to do tonight,” he says. “And I need to hold this in my hands before I go.”

My throat tightens.

But I don’t ask.

I don’t press.

I just lean in.

My hands come up to his face, framing his jaw, my thumbs brushing lightly over the stubble there.

I press a kiss beneath his ear. Gentle. Sure.

Then whisper it:

“Then hold me more.”

His breath shudders.

He gathers me tighter, shifts slightly, adjusting us without a word. and cradles the back of my head with one large, reverent hand.

“Mine,” he murmurs again, low against my temple. Like a mantra, like it's everything. I press closer, my nose brushing the column of his throat.

We settle deeper into the cushions, him behind me now, spooned close.

My legs tangled with his.

His hand strokes up my thigh—slow, warm, claiming.

Not to start anything.

Just to stay.

And his voice—

Right against my skin.

“You’re everything to me, little one. And nothing’s ever going to touch you. Not while I’m breathing.”

His arms tighten around me as he says it, like the promise isn’t just spoken but lived, held, woven through his body into mine.

His vow lands with the weight of something sacred, threading through my ribs like armor—solid, unshakable. My breath catches, chest tight with something vast and unspeakable. I curl a little deeper into him, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor, holding on to that vow like it's the only truth that matters.

25

CAL

She shifts once against me.

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