Page 105 of Finally Forever
“Sebastian?” I murmur, drunk on desire. “You said, ‘Your wish’. My wish hasn’t been fulfilled yet.”
His hands caress my body as he straightens, then I’m hoisted into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist tightly, my hands clasped around his neck. Finally.
His cock rubs my slit, teasing the entrance, then he penetrates me. His length and width fill me completely as he slides in and out in a poetic rhythm. His eyes hold mine, and the connection between us is what I longed for. I kiss his wet lips and brush a soaked strand of his hair from his face.
“I love you.” He thrusts into me. “Only you.”
“Only you,” I repeat, pressure building in my core.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, please.”
He presses my back to the wall, his hands secured at my ass. The first thrust hits so deep I moan. He does it again and again, the pace picking up speed until I’m bouncing in his arms, the tiles slick against my back as he pounds me the way I need.
My orgasm happens so quickly it takes me by surprise. I cry out and cling to him as I ride the waves of pleasure. He follows me with his release a moment later.
Sebastian keeps me pinned to the wall, still buried deep inside me, his head in the crook of my neck as he catches his breath. I hang limp in his strong arms.
It’s not long before he peppers kisses from my neck to my shoulder.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.” Maybe.
He slides out of me, leaving me suddenly empty. My feet touch the wet tiles and my legs, although sore, support me.
The wet, tan muscular body before me steals my breath. Unable to resist, I lick Sebastian’s abs.
He chuckles. “What was that?”
I shrug. “Me marking my territory.”
“Baby, you’re branded into my soul. No marking necessary.”
His features turn serious, his gaze falling to my belly. He lowers onto his knees and kisses my stomach. Peering up at me through dark wet lashes, he says, “I love that you have our baby inside you. I love that we made it.”
I touch his cheek, my fingers wrinkled like a prune. “Me, too.”
He takes my wrist and kisses my palm. “Where’s your ring?”
“In my bag,” I say, sheepishly.
“We need to put it back on. Then I’m going to have it welded to your finger.” He stands and grabs the shampoo from a cubby in the wall. “Let’s wash that hair.”
Having done it a few times, he knows the work involved in washing my long strands, and he knows how annoyed I get, so he offers to help. He loves my hair probably more than I do. I appreciate the help—love it, actually—especially when he massages my scalp like now. He’s very good at it and has even learned how to condition my wavy strands and brush out the tangles. I trained him well.
When he’s done with my hair, I wash his and soap up his body for fun, because I love touching him as much as he loves touching me. All this massaging of his muscles has me flooded with desire again.
He likes my scrubbing because his cock stands at attention.
I cup his balls and drop to my knees, my eyes on his as I take his length into my mouth.
“Fucking perfect,” he hisses and cups the back of my head as I work him into a frenzy. He calls out my name as he comes.
When he draws me to my feet, he kisses me deep and hard. “I want to marry you today. But you deserve more than a five-minute ceremony, so I’ll wait.”
My smile spreads wide. I imagine him in a tux and me in a beautiful white dress. I picture his eyes lighting up when he sees me in the gown for the first time. I envision his hand taking mine. Our vows. The matrimonial seal of a kiss. The cheers from our friends—a handful of the best. In the vision, I’m not pregnant. What does that mean?
