Page 36 of My Defiant Mate
"I want to mark you," I growl, the words a low rumble against his skin. "Not just bite marks that fade. My art on your skin. Permanent. Mine."
He shivers under my touch. "I've never wanted a tattoo before."
"You don't have to," I assure him, pressing another kiss to his skin. "It's just an idea."
He's quiet for a moment, considering. Then, "I'd like that. Having a piece of your art on me forever."
Forever. The word used to terrify me. Now it feels like a promise, like the most natural thing in the world.
"Move in with me off-campus next year." The words are out before I can second-guess them.
His eyes widen slightly. "Off-campus?"
"A real place," I murmur, my fingers mapping the warm skin of his back. "Not much. Probably a shitty apartment with a leaky faucet and neighbors who fight too loud. But it would be ours. A bedroom door that locks. A kitchen where we can cook together. A home."
"A home," he repeats, the word soft and reverent.
"Think about it," I say, suddenly uncertain. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe I'm pushing too hard.
He twists in my arms to face me and nods, his eyes shining with the promise of all our tomorrows. I pull him closer, my lips finding his. The noise in my head is gone. Replaced by a single, perfect note. Home.
