“Fitz…” she circles against me each time I meet her, panting against my mouth. I pull back.

“Look at me.”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and whimpers when she opens her eyes and I pull back before thrusting up, rolling my hips. I brace myself to do it again, but Parker releases her lip and the most delicious noises flow from her mouth as she tightens, spasming around me. The only word she manages is my name.

And god, does that sound differently out of her mouth when she’s mine.

I lean back over her, swallowing down all the beats of my name as I unload every part of me—and what feels like a lifetime of love—deep inside her.

Chapter 35

“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper, tracing my handwriting right above his hip. I feel Fitz’s stare and look away from the ink.

He shivers beneath my touch. “Is it weird to know you branded me in some way?”

“No! No, it’s not weird. It’s…” I pause, trying to think of the right words. But from where I’m supposed to find them, I’m not sure. These two beneath my hand, ones which make sense to only us, they’re enough for me because their place on Fitz’s body during the time we’ve been apart means I’m enough for him.

“You didn’t make me think I matter,” I tell him. “You made me believe it.”

It must be the weight of the sadness in my voice that forces Fitz’s face into a frown. He tugs gently on my arm and I inch up toward the pillow he lays his head on. He scoots over so we share it.

“You don’t just matter, Parker. You matter a lot. You always have.” Fitz sighs. “I wanted you to see that tonight. And I’m sorry⁠—”

I rest my hand lightly over his lips. “Don’t. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I didn’t make it easy for you.”

Fitz huffs against my skin.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” I tell him. “Nick mentioned the tattoo and I felt like maybe, I don’t know…”

“You don’t know what?” Fitz asks, smoothing my hair back when I nestle deeper against the pillow. “You can tell me anything.”

A sharp pain seizes my chest. The truth is, I don’t know where to start. Hypocrisy lines the inside of my mouth. Fitz didn’t tell me everything. How can I be mad? He only gave me a taste of my own medicine. It tastes awful.

I reach down and trace the letters again. This time, Fitz doesn’t hiss, doesn’t make a sound. He just waits for me.