Joseph raised his hand, gently put her hair behind the ear, rubbing her cheek gently, thinking, "Isabel, how much do you love me?"
His question made Irish blank.
Joseph had never asked her with such dignity, as he had never ordered her to say that she loved him in bed. She smiled, and her chin tucked against his chest, his fingers painted his sturdy texture, and answered without hesitation, "Very much."
She didn't know how to describe it. He was the first man she wanted to love and spend her whole life with. Even though the road was too hard, she was willing to wait for his love. As long as the result was good, it would be worth the pain.
There was a light smile floating on Joseph's lips, slowly rippling into the deep eyes. His eyes became gentle, and his long fingers were between her hair, which wrapped it around. Irish felt very comfortable under his touch and laid down on his body more, closing her eyes gently.
