The Imperfections

Brant inhales sharply, tipping his head back and closing his eyes while I touch him. I run my fingers over the fabric, finding the thick outline of his cock.

“Please?” I ask sweetly, stroking him.

With a strained groan, he finally mutters, “Fuck,” and reaches down to push my hand away. I’d be more disappointed that he also pulls his finger from my body, but then I hear him unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts and my heart soars, my blood pounding harder through my veins as my excitement ramps up.

As soon as he kicks his shorts off, he settles himself between my legs and lines his cock up at my entrance. Without making me ask again, he pushes inside.

There’s instant relief as he fills me. The desperate need I felt only a second ago gives way to an ocean of pleasure. I sink into it and let the waves lap over me. Brant’s calloused fingers dig into my hips, and he holds me still while he pulls back and thrusts forward into my body again.

I don’t know why I ever wasted time not having sex with him. He should’ve met me like a year or two ago and saved me from making boneheaded decisions to fool around with inferior guys. Sure, I would’ve been a little underage, but Brant is no stickler for obeying laws. He could’ve introduced me to all this good stuff then and maybe it really would be his baby nestled in my belly.

That barbed thought rips a slice of regret right through me, but I untangle it and swat it away. Brant told me it will be like this is his baby, and I believe him. Besides, the next one will be.

I reach for him and pull him toward me. He takes the hint and releases my hips, coming down on top of me and using one arm to brace his weight on the bed.

I wind my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer so I can kiss him. “I can’t wait to marry you,” I tell him.

He smiles against my lips as he moves inside me. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“You’re going to be the best husband and father. We’re going to have a beautiful life together.”

“That we are,” he agrees. “As for right now, though, we’ve gotta do something about your ability to speak in full sentences.”

“What—?”

Before I have a chance to finish my question, Brant pulls out of me, turns me over onto my tummy, and drives into me from behind. The pressure is already so much different from this angle, but then he reaches around and presses a finger against my clit, and just like that, my ability to speak coherently evaporates.

The rest of our mating is carnal and wordless, save for a few whined “Pleases” from me and a couple groaned “Fucks” from him. He makes me come twice before he lets go and joins me in blissful surrender.

In the aftermath, I curl up beside him and snuggle as close to his strong body as possible. I rest my hand over his heart and close my eyes, tuned into him as the beating beneath my fingers slows from frantic to resting. Still with my eyes closed, I absently kiss his chest where I can reach without moving.

When we entered this room, I definitely wasn’t in the mood to make any romantic declarations, but looking up at him now, all I feel is warmth and tenderness. When I reach up and caress his strong jaw, I catch his attention. When his dark eyes come to rest on my face with all the affection I feel reflected back at me, I feel safe enough to tell him, “I love you.”

It’s not such a scary thing to say to someone I already know I’m marrying, but when his eyes jump to mine, he looks mildly alarmed.

My first instinct is to quickly assure him he doesn’t have to say it back, but I keep my mouth shut, and I’m glad I do. Stopping myself from trying to lessen the impact of my words means I get to see his alarm dissipate naturally, pleasure warming up his beautiful brown-eyed gaze instead.

“Oh yeah?” he teases.

I nod my head, closing my eyes and hugging him a little tighter. “Yep.”

“I’m pretty fond of you, too.”

It’s not a precise reciprocation, but I didn’t expect one. I know it’ll come when he’s ready, but for now, I’ll take his fondness. Opening my eyes so he can look into them and see I’m not disappointed, I flash him a warm smile. “Glad to hear it.”

His gaze lingers on my face, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. I can feel him probing, searching for any hurt feelings I’m trying to cover up. After a moment of not finding any, he seems to relax, and his hold on me tightens. “Thank you,” he says.