“I breathe deeply, and he hovers above me.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he says, yanking off my pants. The cold nips my skin. “I’m going to have sex with you.” He kisses me strongly while lifting my sweater off my head. “I’m going to make love to you.” His eyes bore into mine. “All at fucking once.” His gaze dances over my features. “Not because of a fucking theory. I can’t think of a place I’d rather be
right now than with you. Truth is, I can’t think of a place I’d rather be in fifty fucking years than next to you.”
―
Krista Ritchie,
Long Way Down