Chapter 36 #2
I backed her gently toward the bed, never breaking contact, hands slipping under the hem of her hoodie. My palms met warm, smooth skin, and she sighed, arching just enough to press closer.
“Levi…” Her voice was breathy, almost a question.
I lifted the fabric slowly, reverently, letting my thumbs trace the curve of her waist as I peeled it away. “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, eyes tracing every inch revealed. “Every single time I see you like this, I still can’t believe you’re real.”
She raised her arms, letting me pull the hoodie over her head. Hair tumbled wild around her shoulders.
“Your turn,” she said, tugging at my shirt.
I helped her, grinning when it caught on my shoulders. “Impatient?”
“Very.” She smoothed her hands over my bare chest the second the fabric was gone, fingers exploring the familiar lines of muscle and scar.
We sank onto the bed together. She pushed me gently onto my back, then straddled my hips, settling her weight with a soft exhale that made my breath catch.
For a long moment we just looked at each other, breathing the same air.
Her left hand rested on my chest, right over my heart. The ring caught the lamplight. “Look at it,” she breathed, turning her hand slowly, watching the stone shift and sparkle. “It’s really there.”
I covered her hand with mine, fingers lacing through hers so the ring pressed between our palms.
“It’s really there,” I said, voice rough. “And it’s yours. You’re going to be my wife.”
She leaned down, kissed me slow and lingering, lips brushing mine like a vow. When she pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes were glassy with happy tears.
“I never thought—” She swallowed, shook her head. “I never thought I’d get this. Not after everything.”
I lifted her hand to my mouth, kissed the ring softly, then each knuckle, then the inside of her wrist where her pulse fluttered fast and warm.
“You deserve this,” I said against her skin. “You deserve every gentle thing. Every promise.”
She smiled and lowered herself until our chests pressed together. I wrapped my arms around her, one hand sliding up her back, fingers threading into her hair, holding her close.
“I love how you feel,” she whispered, lips grazing my jaw. “Solid. Safe. Like nothing can touch us here.”
I kissed the corner of her mouth, then lower, tracing the line of her throat with slow, open-mouthed kisses. She shivered, fingers tightening in my hair.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmured against her collarbone.
“You,” she answered simply. “Just you. Slow. Like this.”
We moved together unhurriedly. She guided me inside her with a soft gasp, eyes never leaving mine. We both stilled for a heartbeat, just feeling the closeness, the heat, the quiet miracle of being wanted this way.
“God, Becca…” My voice cracked. “I’m gonna marry you.”
She started to move—gentle rolls of her hips, hands braced on my chest, the ring glinting every time she rose and fell. I watched her face—memorized the way her lashes fluttered, the way her lips parted on a soft sigh, the way her breath hitched when I lifted my hips to meet her deeper.
“Levi,” she whispered, voice breaking on my name. “Don’t stop loving me.”
“Never,” I promised.
I sat up slowly, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against me so we were chest to chest, foreheads touching. We rocked together like that, my hands roaming her back, her sides, learning every inch again like it was the first time.
“You’re trembling,” I murmured, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear.
“Because it’s you,” she breathed. “Because it’s us.”
I kissed her—deep, slow, tasting the salt of happy tears on her lips. My hand found hers again, fingers lacing tight, the ring cool between us.
We moved like that for what felt like forever, gentle and reverent, every thrust and sigh a quiet declaration.
When she came, it was soft and shattering, a quiet shudder that rolled through her whole body, her fingers tightening in mine, a broken little sound in her throat that made my heart ache with how much I loved her.
“Levi…” she gasped, clinging to me.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, holding her through it.
I followed right after, burying my face in her neck as I spilled into her, holding her like she was the only thing real in the world.
After, we didn’t move far.
She curled into me—her head on my chest, my arm around her waist, hand splayed over her back. Our legs tangled under the quilt.
Her left hand rested on my heart again, ring catching the low lamplight.
We both stared at it.
She turned her hand slowly, watching the stone shift and sparkle.
“It’s so pretty,” she whispered, almost awed.
I lifted her hand to my lips again, kissed the ring once more, then pressed my mouth to her palm.
“It looks like it was always meant to be there,” I said quietly. “Like it was waiting for you.”
She nestled closer, cheek against my skin, fingers still laced with mine. “I love you,” she murmured, voice already heavy with sleep and contentment.
“I love you too,” I answered, kissing her forehead. “More than I know how to say.”
“Cross your heart,” she whispered.
I pressed my lips to her temple.
“Cross my heart.”
We drifted off to sleep with her hand still resting over my heart, the ring a quiet, steady light between us.