Page 172 of Corrupting Camille
And I’ll destroy anything that threatens to tear us apart again.
***
We lie there.
Breathless.
Wrecked.
The sound of rain tapers into the quiet, distant and rhythmic, like the world finally understands it needs to shut the fuck up and let this moment breathe.
Her back is pressed to my chest, our legs tangled, her skin slick and flushed from everything we just did, everything we are. My arm’s locked around her waist, like my body knows it can’t risk losing her even now.
I’m still inside her.
Still buried so deep it feels like my soul is lodged between her ribs.
And then…
Her hand slides over mine.
Slow. Gentle. Intentional.
She threads her fingers through mine, lacing them tight, like a vow. Her palm is soft and trembling in mine, and for a second, Ialmost miss the shift, until she lifts our joined hands and presses her lips to my knuckles.
Her breath is warm, shaky against my skin. Her mouth lingers on the tattoo inked across my hand. The one that used to mean revenge.
Now it just means her.
She kisses each finger like she’s soothing every scar, every kill, every sin I’ve dragged through this life just to make it to this exact moment.
Then she shifts.
Slowly. Carefully.
Rolls in my arms and presses her lips to my chest, right over my heart.
And she says it.
Quietly.
So quietly I almost miss it.
“I love you Kane.”
I go still, bracing like I’ve been shot point-blank.
Her voice is hoarse but certain. That low, deliberate tone she only uses when she means it. When it costs her something.
Her palm flattens over my chest, feeling the chaos inside me, like she knows what she just did to me. What those words just did to me.
She lifts her head.
Her eyes meet mine, glass-soft, vulnerable, burning with that same ache I’ve been dragging through every day without her. She leans in again, closer, closer still, until her lips brush against mine and she whispers it again.
“Te amo.”
Spanish.
