“Better than chocolate?” he asks, wiping my lips that stay parted. His forearm rests beside my head, propping up his body as he stares down at me. “I don’t know,” I pant. “I think I need to test this out five or six more times to make a definitive answer.” I smile playfully. “I have a strong fucking feeling that we’ll hear your answer quickly.” “I love your strong feelings,” I tell him. “I love watching you come,” he says like it’s a simple fact. But it’s not simple at all. “How much?” He kisses my good cheek and then whispers, “More than you’ll ever fucking know.”
