Chapter 12 #4
He grabs my hips, lifting me slightly, and thrusts deeper, his length hitting that perfect spot. I shatter. My climax crashes through me, a blinding wave of heat. My core pulses around him, gripping him tight as I manage the only sound I can make, my nails digging into his shoulders.
My body shakes, the pleasure overwhelming, my essence coating him, dripping down my thighs.
He doesn’t stop. He continues to thrust through my climax, each movement drawing out the sensation, making me whimper. My vision becomes hazy. His rhythm falters, breaths ragged, and I clench around him, wanting to feel him break too.
His hands grip my hips, and he thrusts hard. Once, twice, a low growl tearing from his throat as he spills inside me, hot and thick, filling me with his warmth. I feel every pulse, his length throbbing, no barrier between us, and my core flutters, drawing him deeper.
He collapses over me, his weight heavy. His breath is hot against my neck. My hands trace his back, feeling the sweat, the marks I left, the ink under my fingers. My heart races, my body still trembling, sated but still aching, like I could want him again already.
He lifts his head slowly, like surfacing from somewhere deep, and when his gaze finds mine, it’s soft—no, it’s fierce in its tenderness.
That look again. The one that strips me down to nothing and builds me back up in the same breath.
He leans in, brushing his lips against my forehead.
Then lower, to my cheek, and finally, to my mouth.
He tastes like us. Like shared breath and spent desire.
Like something I want to carry with me, always.
I melt into the kiss, my fingers weaving through his damp hair, curling at the nape of his neck.
I tug, gently, grounding myself in him. He lets out the softest sound, almost a hum, as he deepens the kiss.
It's slow, lingering, perfect. As though he's savoring the feel of me still trembling beneath him.
Then, with care that makes my throat close up, he pulls out of me.
My body clenches instinctively, as though trying to hold on to him, refusing to let go.
I feel the slow warmth of him slip free, slicking my thighs, and a soft shiver dances down my spine.
I already miss the fullness, the connection, the sheer weight of him inside me.
But then he moves, shifting gently, and brings me with him.
We end up tangled in the sheets, his chest to my back, one strong arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me close like he can’t bear the distance either.
My head rests against the curve of his shoulder, my palm splayed over his heart.
The steady thud beneath my fingers grounds me.
He breathes out, slow and even, and lifts his free hand to sign.
Ti amo.
Three small movements. Three simple words. But they land so forcefully, like the first time he said them. I feel them echo in every part of me. Not just in the room, not just on my skin, but in the very center of my being. He’s not just saying it. He’s giving it.
I clutch him tighter, my body still vibrating with aftershocks, my heart loud and certain. There’s no room for doubt now. Not even a sliver. I believe him. With everything I have. With everything I am.
He’s given me so much. Not just his body, not just his protection. But himself. His secrets. His story. His heart. And yet I feel so small beside it. I want to give him something in return, something that carries the same weight, the same meaning. But what could ever be enough?
I’ve given him my body, my trust, my silence. But there’s still one part of me I’ve kept hidden—quiet and trembling and afraid. My love. The words I’ve never spoken. The feeling I’ve never signed.
It lives in me, full and terrifying. I don’t know how to give it without giving everything. But I want to try. So slowly, tentatively, I raise my hand.
My movements are slow and deliberate, almost hesitant. I’m afraid of what it will mean. Of what I’ll become if I give this over. But I do it anyway.
You’re mine.
The signs hang in the air between us like a vow. I feel my heart stutter, my breath catching in my throat. I don’t know if it’s too much. Too soon. But it’s the truth. And he deserves it.
When I glance up, his eyes are already on me.
And they’re wide. Not with surprise, but with wonder.
With something soft and unguarded, something affectionate and steady.
Something like love. No. Not like. It is love.
Undeniable, unwavering, burning steady in his gaze.
I want to drown in it. I want to breathe it in like air.
He nods, slow and sure, and then he presses a kiss to my forehead. His lips linger there, unmoving, like a seal. Like a promise. My chest tightens. I close my eyes.
I burrow closer, tucking myself into the warmth of him, the weight of his arm drawing me tighter against his body. I let the silence hold us. Not empty silence, but full, rich with meaning, thick with everything we can’t say out loud.
My eyes drift shut, my body settling. And for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Not just in his arms, but in what we’ve become. Whatever this is, wherever it’s going, I want it.
And in this moment, I know he’s mine. And I am his.