I stretched to kiss him, desperate to take the tone of teasing out of the moment. “What do you want to try?”
“Everything,” he admitted in a whisper. “But I think mostly I’m . . . a bit wrapped up in what it’s like to be intimate while being in love. I don’t want to hide from it anymore. This is so new to me, and it’s a bit mind-boggling how different it feels.”
“You mean physically?”
“I mean all of it. To speak openly while we’re making love. The way it feels to make love.”
He was still over me, inside me, asking for what he needed and for a long moment, I couldn’t really catch my breath. We were doing this. He was all in. We were in his bed, in his flat, and he’d said yes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, kissing my neck.
“Just . . . so relieved that we’re back together, I might explode.”
“I rather like you in one piece, particularly beneath me, naked, and wet as a lake.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Then I’ll just have to keep you on top of me all night.”
He laughed, and then kissed me. “I love you, Ruby.”
Number of Times Niall Stella Used My Name When He Said He Loved Me:
One, and counting.