God, I loved kissing him. I loved everything with him. How well he filled me, how much he cared about me in bed, in… every aspect. He was a born caretaker, a protector—something I had never needed, never wanted, yet I found that I wanted all of it with Matthew. Damn him, for making me think all of these domestic thoughts about him. All of these lovely, lust-covered thoughts as he held me in his arms. Damn him.
