She didn't know what flowed in his eyes, but something about the darkness soured her eyes.
Resolutely, she plunged into his arms, wrapped around his neck, clinging to the warmth of his neck, sobbing, "I've always been yours, probably since I was five years old..."
As long as you need me, I always will be.
The arms wrapped around her waist suddenly tightened, as if trying to break her waist, painful somewhat, but she liked it, liked this fierce need of his, liked being pressed close to him, closer still, wishing she could merge into him.
Strange, moist heat slid across her neck, burning her shoulders, and she could hear his burning breath, and his hoarse voice, "Will you despise me?"
She shrank her neck against this strange feeling, not forgetting to shake her head vigorously.
How could she despise him? She had always feared his contempt.
