He traced our fingers over a single band of scrawl I recognized. My handwriting. My name. Over and over around his thick corded muscles. “You’ve always owned me, Sparrow. I just wanted to remember that. Have your brand on me forever.” My fingers ghosted over his thigh, my words, my writing, my name. “When?” I croaked. “Since the day I turned eighteen.” I forced my gaze to his. “Kyler.” “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Pleasure and pain warred in equal measure. “I love you, too. It’s always been you.”
