“Fuck, I love you, Allyson. I can’t wait . . . for any of it. For the wedding, for our house, for our family, for our life.”
The simple but meaningful words surround us.
He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, like he’s getting everything he ever wanted. So am I.
“I love you too. I feel like we should celebrate.” I’m flirting with him, hungry for him the way I’m hungry for the picture he’s painting.
His hands knead at my thighs, working higher as his eyes bore into me, reading my every reaction. I grind against him, feeling his cock thicken beneath me. “Kinda like old times, isn’t it? In your truck. Seems like we’ve been here a time or two before.”
That’s an understatement. But as much as I loved him then, it’s nothing compared to now.
“You like these tights?” he asks with wicked promise.
I bite my lip, shaking my head, but my eyes are locked on his. “Not particularly.” I know why he’s asking, but I still gasp when his fingers dig in, tearing a hole in the tights I wore to work today. I’ll happily get another pair.
My fingers drop between us, working at his zipper to free his cock. I have to lift up a little bit to give him room to move his jeans and underwear out of the way, but then I feel him against my slick core.
He’s satin over steel, rock hard for me. “Give me that pussy, baby. Ride me.” It’s barely a whisper, but I feel the words on my skin like tattoos.
I move my hips, my lips kissing at his crown. He grips my ass hard, his fingers digging into the flesh there to still me. “Slow or fast, Al?”
Oh, God, so many memories assail me. Us, just like this, in his truck and the barn. He used to always ask me that right before entering me. He never does anymore, knowing the answer. But it’s a hot reminder of just how far we’ve come. “Fast, Bruce . . . fast.”
He pulls me down, slamming me onto his thick cock and trusting that I’ll stretch around him.
I cry out, filled and fulfilled in ways I never imagined. No, that’s not true—in ways I used to dream of and then gave up on. But I will never give up on Bruce again. Or myself.
He holds me still, hammering up into me. I press against the roof of the truck for leverage, wanting to keep him . . .
In my body, in my heart . . . forever.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
It might’ve been a rough road to get here, but we’re finally exactly where we’re supposed to be. Together.