I jerked my head from side to side and grunted out my demand, “Fuck. Me.”
His face darkened in a way I loved, and without debating it any further, he shifted just a bit and lined up with my entrance. Before I had a chance to breathe, he shoved in and filled me.
He rode me hard, fast, and rough. I knew before we were done that I’d feel him tomorrow. I could almost swear that I could feel those thrusts bottoming out in my throat.
I, of course, couldn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d never been fucked so hard. Ever. It was amazing, incredible, life-altering, and when he growled, “Come for me, baby.” I couldn’t help but obey.
Seconds later, he followed me over the edge, and when he did, I almost came again when he found the tender part of my neck and bit, hard, with his release.
I’d have a mark the next day.
I was fucking ecstatic.
I dozed off before he pulled out. Fucking this man had been so shattering that as we panted to slow our heart rates, I fell asleep.
It didn’t last long, because when he pulled out of me, I mewed, and my eyes opened to find him reaching over me to turn a key and release my arms.
He rubbed where the cuffs had dug in and slowly the feeling returned. He asked softly, “You ok? Did I hurt you? Shit got pretty intense.”
I found I had the energy to muster up a grin and reply, barely, and informed him, “Better than ok. It only hurt in the best ways ever. And I’ll tell you something else, that was the best sex I’ve ever had so if you think we aren’t going to repeat that about a billion times before we both die of exhaustion, you have another thing coming, stud.”
His lips perked up in a grin, and he bent to brush his lips to mine before pulling all the way away and saying, “We didn’t use anything, baby, so I need to clean you up.”
And I let him.
I didn’t care about the repercussions.
I laid there while the man I’d fantasized about over and over again, proved he was worth every bit of the risk as he set about tenderly cleaning me up.
Later, as we laid together, my body half-covering his, he tugged my hair and pressed his lips to mine before smiling, “You know, I think this proves that you’re it for me.”
My entire being softened into him, and I smiled, “I have to agree.”
He stared into my eyes for the longest moment before pulling the cover-up to our shoulders and settling in for the night.
I didn’t care that we’d only really met hours before.
I knew.
He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
When he wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me into his body before relaxing into me, I didn’t fight the shit-eating grin I knew had to be covering my face.
Because he was absolute
ly fucking perfect.
Six weeks later, he held my hand and said, “I do.” in the office of the Justice of the Peace.
It was quick, but for us, it was just right.
Our families were concerned at the suddenness of the progression of our relationship, but we both knew we were right where we were meant to be.
Eventually, they’d come to know it as well.
All the time we’d each spent thinking we were crazy didn’t matter.
Not anymore.