When New York and London Collide

Chapter 47

Chase Kennedy

I always thought the words "I love you" would feel foreign on my lips. But they didn't. They felt right.

I pulled away from Celine, who stared up at me contentedly. If you told me months ago that I'd be in a relationship, confessing my heart out to the woman I couldn't stand just two months back, I'd laugh in your face and tell you to fuck off. But now, shit. I couldn't be happier.

I trailed my hands down the small of her back until it reached just below her waist, and her breath hitched. I smirked. I've made her angry, happy, annoyed, but never nervous. And boy did she look gorgeous when she's nervous. Even better, she looks like mine.

"What do you want, trouble? I'll give you anything. Just say the word," I mumbled into her ear, close enough to send shivers running down the back of her spine into her skin. I wanted to be embedded into her mind, her body, and her soul.

"You. I want you."

Like a man possessed, I gripped the back of her hair and smashed my mouth against hers. We'd kissed before, but this. It was more than just a kiss. It was confirmation that I was hers, and she was mine.

I could feel her hands nervously running across me chest, leaving soft touches where her fingers were. I pushed her back until the back of her knees hit the bed.

"You understand, there's no going back now." I warned.

She nodded eagerly.

"I want this."

"Whatever you want, you get." I told her, peeling off her top slowly and letting the delicate sleeve fall off her shoulders while staring into her big green eyes that were filled with nothing but love and trust.

"You want me? Then you can have me in every way you want. I'm yours trouble, and only yours."

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I pulled her closer by her waist, our bodies fitting perfectly. Like we were made for one another all along. I felt comfortable in my bed, but with Celine, I felt at home.

I propped myself up on my elbow and watched her, laid on her stomach, body bare and only covered by the duvet, the light rise in her chest from her breathing, her soft snores. She was more than perfect. She was mine. I traced the tips of my finger over her bare back, shifting her hair to the side and placed soft kisses on the back of her neck. She looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake her. I just wanted to digest the sight in front of me and stare at it forever. Even forever didn't feel long enough.

She shifted slightly onto her side and her eyes fluttered open slightly.

"You're staring," her mouth curved, and I took the opportunity to press my lips where it belonged. On hers.

"You're gorgeous, even with messy bed hair," I joked, resulting in a rough shove in my arm. I laughed and fell onto my back and pulled her waist closer to me.

"You're lucky I love you," she muttered hoarsely, shifting her eyes up.

Is this what love is? The simple things feeling like the most priceless and meaningful when you're with the one you love. Even something as small as waking up with her, I felt whole. If this is truly what love is like, I never want it to end.