When she shifted, her weight moved the bed ever so slightly. She was a small thing. But it nevertheless took its toll. He did not show it - did not dare. She had moved closer to him, and that was a goodness he was not willing to break. She was still not close enough for his desire... but it was a start. He would make it be enough.
The darkness almost obscured the blush that stole across her face the next moment after she spoke. Was she thinking about the wedding day... or the wedding night? The possibility that she craved their consummation, even a fraction of how much he did, was a stronger drug than he had ever found before. He drew the idea in through his pores and drowned himself with it. Ah, to think that his little innocent might burn for him...
He replayed what she had said about their wedding, and then discovered in his mental search a few words that he had not yet heard from her, words he'd missed in his delight to hear her speaking on their wedding. ..."as much as I love you."
Thought stopped. "You love me?" he said artlessly, with a shock that spoke of whole and complete disbelief.