Page 54 of Yours, Now and Always
My wife.Looking at me like I’m everything she’s ever wanted. Like she trusts me with everything she has. Her body, her heart, her whole damn life.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Princess?” I slow myself down. Fuck her deeper. Dragging it out. “You look at me like I hold your whole world in my hands, and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you never stop.”
“I never will,” she breathes, arching her back and changing the angle.
Fuck. The change in depth. The way her pussy tightens around me. It’s like her body just locked me inside her and isn’t letting go.
“Amelia,” I growl as my thrusts grow faster. “Fuck.”
She clenches tighter around me and moans, and I fucking feel the way that sound vibrates down my spine and grips my control in a chokehold.
“Gage . . . fuck . . . I can’t . . .”
She’s breathless. Needy. Desperate for me. And I’m barely fucking holding on.
Ineedto come.
Ineedto fill her.
Ineedto mark this moment so deep in her body.
Amelia is already my wife, but this weekend is a reminder that I get to stay hers. That I get to wake up every day and earn this look—this love—again and again. That she’ll keep giving it to me.
She’ll keep choosing me.
And that does something to me that nothing else ever has.
I pound into her. Her body meets mine with everything she has, and when I reach around and find her clit, it doesn’t take long for her to come.Her moan is caught between a gasp and my name, and she falls apart around me.
She pulses. Clenches. Milks my cock for everything I have to give.
A growl tears out of me as I thrust once more and spill inside her, my vision blurring, my hands gripping her hips like they’re the only things keeping me tethered to this moment. Toher.To the only woman who’s ever made me feel like I’m not just wanted, butchosen.
I stay inside her while we catch our breath, not ready to let her go just yet.
When I pull out, she turns and loops her hands around my neck. A lazy, post-orgasm smile fills her face. “For the record, he doesn’t say it better than you.”
I palm her ass possessively. “Good. I’d hate to have to murder an audiobook narrator.”
She laughs. God, that laugh. I’d do time for it.
Then, she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me. It’s a quiet press of her mouth to mine before she opens up and lets me in. Slow and gentle like she’s whispering promises before she deepens the kiss and makes me lose myself in her again.
I keep one hand on her ass while bringing the other one up to slide along her jaw. And for a second, while she’s ruining me all over again, I can’t breathe around the feeling crashing through my ribs.
Amelia ismine.
I never imagined a marriage with the kind of intimacy we have. Not the sexual kind; the emotional kind.
Each day, Amelia hands me every raw, messy, imperfect piece of herself like she’s sayingthis is what I’ve got to give today, and while I know it’s not perfect, I’m giving you all of it.
And it fucking floors me.
She doesn’t pretend. Doesn’t hide behind curated smiles or a polished image. She gives me her truth—every emotion, every fear, every contradiction—and lets me do the same. She doesn’t ask me to be perfect. Doesn’t expect me not to fuck up. She just asks me to behere. To show up. To try.
Our kiss stretches out. Unrushed. Like neither of us wants it to end.
I don’t. I could kiss Amelia forever and still need more.
