Page 31 of A Moth to a Flame
“I love you,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I love you too,” I say, dropping my forehead to his, weak with relief that he said it. And so easily, like he’s known as long as I have. “I’ve always loved you, Colt.”
He slides his leg up the outside of mine, his strong thighs gripping my hips. Lifting his hand, he wraps his fingers around my throat, forcing my head up, so I have to look him in the eye. “I loved you too. I didn’t want to, but I did. I couldn’t help myself. You’re brave and… I don’t know how to say it. It sounds stupid.”
“No, go on,” I say. “I like flattery, remember?”
“You’re special, Duke,” he says. “Really fucking special.”
“Special enough to forgive?” I ask, wanting to drop his gaze but forcing myself to hold it.
“Yes,” he says, and the relief that floods through me makes me want to cry. “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”
I lean down, pressing my lips to his again for a longer, lingering kiss. When I pull back, his blue eyes are hazy with lust. “Is this really what you want?” I ask.
“I want you,” he says. “Now fuck me before I think you’ve changed your mind.”
“No,” I say, and I cover his mouth with my hand, so he can’t make jokes to ease the weight of the moment. “I’ll never not want you, Colt. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
His eyes search mine, and then he gives the slightest nod, his mouth still silenced by my palm. But it’s my turn to speak at last, to say what I always should have said. So I tell him the truth I’ve never told anyone, that I’ve been carrying for a decade. “You’re it, Colt. For me, it’s you. Every wish, on every star, in every sky. It always came back to you. You were always the flame.”
Colt’s hand knocks mine away before snaking around the back of my neck. “Then burn with me,” he says, and he rises to meet me in a kiss.
The End.
