“I won’t touch you,” I assured him, knowing I could throw a burst of energy that would undoubtedly drop the curtain on the moment. “I have it under control.”He traced the line of my clavicle with this finger and kissed the corners of my mouth. “Not even if I ask? I want your fingerprints all over me like a crime scene.”

“If I shake your hand, will I get my fingerprints all over your fingertips? I hope not. Otherwise the crime scene, and the shaft of my penis, is riddled with my fingerprints.”

“If you ask me to kiss you, I will,” he says.His fingers stroke the inside of my wrists, and I burst into flames.“Kiss me,” I say.He does.”

“This is a—a proposal of marriage?” he asked me, and there was the very smallest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth, something I had never seen before.“I suppose so,” I said, blushing again. “And, as you see, I’m doing it properly, on my knees.”“This would, however, be a partnership of equals you’re offering, I imagine?”“Undoubtedly.” (448-49)”

“And what do you want right now?" Right now I itch to heal his wounds and forget my own.He touches my cheek with the tips of his fingers.My breath hitches. "Do you want to kiss me, Alex?" I whisper."Dios mio, I want to kiss you ... to taste your lips, your tongue." He gently traces my lips withthe tips of his fingers. "Do you want me to kiss you? Nobody else would know but the two of us.”

“He closes his eyes.Our lips brush lightly."If you ask me to kiss you , I will," he says.His fingers stroke the inside of my wrists, and I burst into flames."Kiss me," I say.He does.”