22. Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

I slip into my black silk nightdress and climb under the bed covers, staring up at the ceiling. Uneasiness has descended on my thoughts as I go back over the evening in my mind. More than one thing my mum said has made me think. Her use of the word "boyfriend," for a start. We haven't had that conversation yet and I'm not sure how it's going to go, given that he's never had a relationship before. Wanting to share things with one another is one thing. Committing to the same person, day in, day out is very different.

"What are you thinking about?" He's standing at the foot of the bed and I didn't even hear him come into the room. He unbuttons his shirt, peels it from his shoulders, and throws it on the chaise longue, then unfastens his jeans and steps out of them, watching me all the while.

"What are we? "

He slips into bed beside me and props his head against his hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you had to label this—this thing we're doing—what would you call it? What would you call us?"

His brown eyes stare down at me. "This is because your mum called me your "boyfriend," isn't it?" He frowns as if he has a problem with the word and my heart sinks.

I shake my head as if pre-empting what he's about to say. "You're not my boyfriend."

"I'm thirty. Boyfriend is playground talk." He grazes his knuckles against my right cheekbone. "But I'm the only man in your life and you're the only woman in mine."

"We're exclusive?"

"One hundred percent."

"We're a couple?" I ask.

He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. "Yes. We're a couple of people who love spending time together and who care about one another very much and the sex..." His eyes widen and he shakes his head slowly. "Is unbelievable. We're a couple."

I need to tell him how I really feel about him. It's now or never. "I'm not saying this because I expect to hear it back from you. I'm saying this because it's what I feel, and I want you to know." This is coming out all wrong, but I can't stop now because his liquid dark eyes are watching me expectantly. "I love you."

He doesn't move a muscle for a few seconds as if he's stuck in the moment, then his chest rises and falls and I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. He presses his mouth to mine and kisses me softly, shifting on top of me. Out of nowhere I hear the soft beat of "Hold," and his hands tug my nightdress up and over my head.

He presses a hand into the pillow either side of my head as he showers my face with kisses. I writhe beneath him in the knowledge that he's telling me how he feels without saying a word. He pushes my legs apart with his knees as he settles in between my thighs and his soft lips continue working down my body, planting feather-light kisses over my breasts, trailing down to my waist and into my pubic hair. I moan as he presses his tongue against my clitoris and drop my eyes to see him studying my reaction.

His gaze fixes on me as he starts to lap at my clit, I gasp and push my head back into the pillow as a molten ball of warmth builds with every flick of his tongue and reach down to entangle my fingers in his hair. The mounting pressure at my core becomes almost unbearable as he drags me towards climax with his mouth and just when I'm teetering on the brink, the bed shifts and the weight of his delicious body lays over mine. The head of his erection tickles the tight, wet heat between my legs and in one push he's inside me.

A satisfied, guttural groan falls from his lips as he enters me and I curl my limbs around his body, keeping him close. Hot lips press against my cheek and I can hear his uneven breathing with each thrust. I feel the undulations of his firm shoulder muscles beneath my fingertips as he tenses, holding himself back. I know he's struggling to keep control. He's everywhere, inside my body, my mind, my ears, and I relish the feeling of being completely consumed by him. By the man I love, without restraint.

"I want to make love to you forever," he tells me, his breath hot on my cheek. I close my eyes as he stills inside of me, pausing to allow my muscles to stop quivering before he picks up the pace again. I don't want this feeling to ever stop. "And ever."

I scratch my fingernails lightly down his back and grip his firm buttocks in both hands as he drives into me, tensing beneath my touch. No sooner has he started, than he starts to slow down, and I'm not sure whether it's for my benefit or his this time. He repeats the process, pumping into me then slowing, giving me a few seconds before he carries on for what seems like forever. I'm damp with sweat, coating my breasts and stomach, and our bodies glide together as one. The track has long since ended as his hip bones grind against mine until they hurt and my leg muscles ache from being wrapped around his back. He's prolonging the blissful pinnacle of our night together because he doesn't want it to stop and neither do I. I don't want it to ever stop .

"I can't wait any longer." He drags his head up to meet my eyes. Damp tendrils of hair have fallen across his forehead into a curl and his face is flushed. "I'm not going to stop next time."

As he thrusts into me, the tension between my thighs spikes and my hands fly up to his shoulders.

"Now, Sophie," he breathes in my ear as he pushes into me and that's enough. My fingernails dig into the flesh of his back as I cry out his name and split in two. And he's right behind me, calling my name as he pumps into me. His head drops forward to my chest and I feel his warm breath on my breasts as it slows.

We lie entwined as one. And it feels right. As it should be.

He interlaces his fingers with mine, lifts up my hand, and kisses it. "What happened between you and your ex?"

The question comes out of left field, and in my post-coital haze, I'm floundering. "I… I don't want to talk about it."

He lifts his head from my chest. "Please, tell me."

I stare at the ceiling. I can't tell him. Telling him will bring it back, and I'm not ready to go back there. "You said earlier that we don't know everything about one another yet. Let this be something you don't know about me, for now."

His brows draw together into a frown. "I want to know and maybe it's time for you to tell me." I'm not ready to tell him the whole truth about everything Theo did. I'll give him the edited version.

"We met in my second year at uni. At first, it was great. I thought he was the one, then we graduated and moved in together, and he changed." I drag my eyes from the ceiling momentarily to find him watching me carefully. "At first, he started saying little things to me, that he didn't like what I was wearing, or an outfit made me look fat. Then he started getting really jealous if I even said hello to another guy. He was convinced I was having an affair. Towards the end, he started getting aggressive. He never actually hit me, but he threatened to. He'd get right up in my face whenever we argued, which was all the time the last few months. Then he started getting rough in the bedroom, holding me around the neck and choking me. One time, the last time… I passed out. It scared me. I was worried if I stayed he'd end up killing me. I moved back home. Mum and Martin helped me find the flat because it was halfway between their house and work. It wasn't great, but it was a place of my own. A few months after we split, I ran into one of his friends, who told me what he'd been getting up to. That's when I realised exactly what a lying, abusive, cheating bastard he really was. It turns out while we were together, he'd been picking up women every weekend when he went out drinking with his mates."

He grazes his fingertips across my cheek. "Poor you. What a bastard. Where is he now?"

I look at him. The crease line in his forehead has appeared and his jaw is clenched in anger.

"I've no idea. The last I'd heard he'd met someone else and settled down."

"You should have told me about this. If I'd have known what that bastard did to you, I would never have restrained you or tied you up."

"No, it's not the same. Besides, I want to do those things with you." I reach up and stroke his cheek with my fingertips. "You're not him. I know you'll never hurt me. I trust you."

He shakes his head clearly bothered by what I've just shared.

If he's reacted like this to what I've told him, I'm relieved I didn't tell him everything that happened between Theo and me. I can't. Not yet. It's too soon.

He closes his hand over mine on his cheek and slides it to his mouth and kisses it. "I meant what I said in the restaurant. No one will ever hurt you, now you're with me."

I smile because I truly believe it. "I know. You're my protector."

He kisses me gently on the lips and pushes his fingers through my hair. "I mean it, Sophie. I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you and if I ever cross paths with your ex, I'll kill him too." He pauses and there's a fierce glint in his eyes which tells me he's not joking. "Move in with me."

I think I'm hearing things. "What?"

"I miss you when you're not with me. I want you to move in. "

A short, sharp laugh falls from my lips because he's got to be joking only the serious look in his eyes is telling me he's not. "We've known each other for a month. Isn't it a bit soon?"

His broad shoulders lift into a dismissive shrug. "Says who? All I know is that you've spent nearly every day since we've met, here. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night."

He's right and the thought of waking up with him every day makes my heart do funny things inside my chest. I can't suppress my smile or what I'm about to agree to. "Okay, let's do it."

He breaks into a grin. "Great. Tomorrow, I'll give you your own key, and we'll move your things in on Sunday."