Page 148 of Bitten & Burned
“Anton—”
But he was done being good.
One hand cupped my breast, thumb flicking over the sensitive tip until I whimpered. The other slid between us, fingers finding my clit with unerring precision.
I jolted.
“Shh,” he murmured. “Let me. Just for a moment. You’ve had all the control, darling—let me have this.”
He circled my clit with practiced ease, teasing, and coaxing, until my breath came ragged and my rhythm stuttered.
“Anton—gods?—”
“You feel so good like this,” he groaned, rolling his hips up to meet mine. “So perfect. So mine.”
He was panting now, fingers never stopping, mouth dragging hot kisses across my collarbone. “I love you,” he whispered, over and over again. “I love you—I love you—I love you?—”
The words tangled with his breath, his fingers, his thrusts, hiseverything.
My release built so slowly, it was upon me before I realized. There was no tipping over the edge; there was just pleasure, just Anton giving it to me. I practically sobbed through it, his fingers relentless, his cock hard inside me as I squeezed him.
And, when I finally let him—when I gave a single breathless nod and whispered, “Now, Anton, now”—he came undone beneath me with a cry that sounded like worship.
“I love you—fuck—I love you—gods, Rowena?—”
He clutched at my hips, head thrown back, gasping the words like he could etch them into my skin, into my soul.
And when he finally stilled, trembling, spent, he pulled me down against him, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
Still whispering it.
“I love you. I love you. I love you…”
We stayed like that for a while, tangled and quiet, my headtucked against his shoulder as his hand lazily stroked my spine. His heartbeat had slowed, but mine hadn’t. Not entirely. I was still floating, still basking in the weight of everything he’d said.
Of everything he’d meant.
“Anton?” I asked quietly, my voice muffled against his skin.
“Mm?”
“Did you… Did you mean it?”
I lifted my head just enough to look at him, to see the way his lips curved into a lopsided smile. He blinked up at me, soft and glowing and full of something that could only be called wonder.
He chuckled.
“Didn’t I say it enough?” he asked, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “Once is a throwaway. I believe I said it at least a dozen times.”
“You did,” I whispered, blinking quickly.
He tilted his head to kiss my forehead. “And I meant it every single time. You never have to wonder with me. Not about that.”
I curled into him again, letting my hand rest over his heart. It beat strong and sure beneath my palm. Slowly. But strong. I’m sure mine felt like a hummingbird compared to his.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “You’re safe here, Rowena. For as long as you want to be.”
“I know,” I murmured.
