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Our bodies speak now in ways words never could—honest, unfiltered, leaving nothing hidden between us.

“I am,” he breathes, his tone serious. “I love you.”

The words settle into me deeper with every thrust.

Ethan Hardy—the man every woman watches, the one who never lingers, never stays—the man who could have anyone…

He loves me.

Me.

After that, words become unnecessary.

We kiss—deep, hungry, unrelenting—like we’re trying to make up for everything left unsaid until now, our mouths and bodies continuing what neither of us can fully contain anymore.

And for the first time in my life, I feel it completely…

That sense of belonging.

Of certainty.

Of finally being exactly where I’m meant to be.

With him.

With Ethan.

My fucking boyfriend.

FIFTY-EIGHT

Ethan

We fell asleep as the first light of dawn crept in through the windows. I’ve lost count of Thalia’s orgasms, and even my own, but I remember perfectly how intense and emotionally draining last night was, especially for her.

I never imagined I’d find myself in a position to declare love to someone. I never believed I’d ever feel this way, not even once. And yet… here I am.

Completely in love with the woman who’s no longer sleeping, yet remains perfectly still in my arms.

I realized I was falling for her during that conversation with Theo in my office, but that day left no time to process it—what with the scandal erupting in the press, and later with Irina’s accident—and afterward, I simply refused to dwell on it at all.

At the start of last night’s conversation, I was absolutely certain that the best course would be for Thalia to stay in for as many nights as we remained here, while I moved to another room, with one of the guys.

I didn’t expect the change that unfolded as we talked, nor did I imagine that Thalia would become so emotionally exhausted by the tension between us that she would open up completely.

I hadn’t expected all the explanations about what had appeared in the press regarding her date with John, nor that the situation had truly been as I now understand it.

I never considered that my interactions with Irina could bother her. I saw Irina as a model employee; I’ve never had any other intention toward her since I started sleeping with Thalia.

“Ethan,” she whispers, her hand grazing my abdomen.

I noticed she does this constantly, trying to maintain physical contact between us, no matter how faint.

“It’s very late, everyone else must already be downstairs,” she continues, trying to rouse me gently.

With an arm already wrapped around her, I tighten my hold, pulling her closer into me. I keep my eyes closed, tilting my head just enough to press a soft kiss to her hair, without responding.

“Do you think it’d be better if I got ready and went down first?” she asks hesitantly.