One of my arms wrapped around her waist as I propelled us back to the shallows. Apprehension still lined her forehead, but she laced her fingers behind my neck. When we reached the ledge, I hoisted us up until I sat where I had a few minutes ago, more than ready for a do-over. She didn’t look away as I gripped her thighs in my hands and lifted her so she straddled my lap, one knee on each side of my hips.

If she could be brave, then so could I.

“I’ll probably never be good enough to believe that you could be mine,” I said softly, splaying one of my hands over the bare skin of her back. “I made peace with that years ago. But I’ve always been yours.” Her eyes widened, and I knew I owed her the full truth, the same as she’d given me. “Only yours. Always yours.” Holy shit, I’d finally said it.

Her mouth collided with mine, and I lost myself in her. Her hands tunneled through my hair and held me as she poured her love, her joy into a kiss I never could have imagined.

It felt like coming home.

I gripped her hip in one hand and the base of her neck in the other, tilting her head so I could kiss her deeper. Our tongues danced and tangled; our lips caressed and lingered. I kissed her until I knew her mouth as well as I did my own, until she whimpered and rolled her hips over mine.

I kissed her slowly, with tenderness, and then I took her mouth with greed and pure need. Every nerve in my body was alive and tingling, electric with her nearness. Each of my senses filled with her. Just Willow. I was never going to get enough of kissing her. Not if I did it every day for the rest of my life.

When she arched for more, I slowed our pace, sucking on her bottom lip. Her nails bit into my scalp, and I gave her control until her tongue, her teeth, her damned hips had me harder than the ledge we sat on.

It would only take two seconds, the movement of two pieces of fabric, and I could be inside her.

The thought sobered me faster than a bucket of cold water could have. I changed the tone of the kiss, slowing until I pressed my lips against hers softly.

“We have to stop or I’m not going to,” I told her as I rested my forehead against hers.

“I’m okay with not stopping.” She kissed me again, and we fell back into it, because how the hell could I not? I’d dreamed of kissing Willow for years, almost decades, and she was in my arms. No secrets. No lies. “Not stopping would be awesome.”

“I’m not okay with not stopping,” I finally managed between kisses.