If He Loves You Novels & Stories

His voice was low, controlled, but she could hear the strain underneath. She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat. “What is?” He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence suffocating in a way that made her knees weak. “This,” he ground out. “You. Me. Whatever this… **thing** is between us.” Sienna’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “Why?” His lips parted, but no words came out. Because he didn’t have an answer. Not one that he could say aloud, anyway. So, instead, he did what he did best.

“Every inch of you” “I love you, Stephen."

To avoid giving a reply, I immediately put a spoonful in my mouth and pretended I wasn't in the position to talk because of my food. Dean grabbed my free hand and I looked up at him, still feeling embarrassed, “I love you baby and I will always. It is normal for you to get jealous. That is because you love me, and you are a stingy lover like myself.” He said with some excitement in his voice, and I happily choked again and pushed his hand away. “Fuck you.” I muttered while struggling to swallow.

Truly love him. 💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨

"I love you." •

he whispers. “I love you”

He actually fucking loves me. A surge of overwhelming emotion floods through me, leaving me breathless with disbelief and joy. He withdraws from me, gently releasing my wrists and removing the blindfold. As I blink away the darkness, he spins me around, his strong hand gripping my chin firmly, ensuring our gazes are locked. "Do. You. Love. Me?" His words are spoken with such fervor, each syllable carrying its own weight, demanding an answer that I'm not sure I'm ready to give him.

"Do you love me?" ***

he mused, inching even closer until his lips were almost grazing mine, teasingly. “Will you repeat those words again? Please?” I asked softly, staring up at him without faltering, a hopeful glint in my eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder, did he truly mean it? Had he meant it then? “I love you,” he uttered slowly, his voice deep and breathy. “All of you.” He paused, searching my eyes. “You get that?” he added, his tone both tender and possessive.

His words still stuck in my head. Yngrid. I'm sorry but I want to be honest with you about my feelings. It's hard to pretend that I love you when I'm not. Sorry if I spend so much of your time but please forgive me. I'm breaking up with you, I beg you please don't message me again.