Paul grabs my chin and turns me to face him, cupping my cheeks in his palms. “I want nothing more than to make you mine in every way I possibly can,” he breathes, pressing our foreheads together. “But I don’t want you to look back and regret the way we did it. I can wait if you want to do it the traditional way.” A painful knot is in my throat, and no amount of clearing my throat will get rid of it. “What part of me is traditional?” A tear falls down my cheek that he brushes away, and I give him a shy smile. He laughs and kisses me quickly. “You do have my teeth marks tattooed on your neck.”
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