“It won’t happen overnight. It’ll take time.” He keeps kissing my neck. And my ears. And my face. And my breasts. It makes it very hard to pay attention to what he’s saying between the kisses. “It’ll take months of orgasms. Months of romantic dinners and expensive gifts. Months of nights like this, lying here and talking about everything or nothing at all. Maybe it’ll take years of all those things. And I’m okay with that.”
