Olivia's POV
The moment his lips found my inner thigh, the world outside this room vanished. His whispered words—"I love you"—didn't just resonate; they became the only truth. A fierce, possessive kind of love that mirrored the terrifying depth of my own.
I tugged at the back of his neck, urging him closer, wanting to feel him, all of him, not just hear the confession. "Show me, Levi," I breathed out, the command husky, desperate.
He didn't need to be told twice.
He lowered his head, and the light, tentative touch became a hungry, demanding kiss that stole my breath. A gasp tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained, as a shockwave of pleasure unlike anything I'd ever known arced through me. The feeling was electric, a searing brand that reminded me exactly who I belonged to, in every sense of the word. My nails dug into the firm muscle of his back, anchoring myself to him as the intensity ratcheted up, eclipsing thought, guilt, and memory.
