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AFTERWARDS, WE CURL up on our sides, tucked beneath warm sheets, facing each other, sharing shadows. His face is inexplicably soft. Softer than anything I've ever seen.
His gaze dances across my face. It's feather-light, but even the warmth of his eyes and the arch of his brows send shivers through my body.
He shifts his head comfortably against the pillow and lifts a finger to my cheek, tracing patterns there. His touch skims across my skin, hot and cold all at once, curving gently across my cheekbone, then back up again. I feel myself smile.
His cheeks lift with a soft smile of his own. "What?"
"Nothing."
Amusement glimmers in his eyes. But it fades quickly. His eyes grow serious, pensive, drinking me in slowly as if he doesn't want to see anything else for a very long time.
"I like you a lot," he whispers. His finger dips past my jaw and glides, gently, past the underside of my chin down to the hollow of my throat. His lips follow, open-mouthed kisses brushing against skin, stealing the breath from my lungs. His nose falls to the crook of my neck, and the softest murmur sighs from his lips into the place where my heart pounds, a whispered confession that trembles with fear and excitement.
