SITTING cross-legged with my laptop over my knees, I glimpsed at Walker who lay beside me, asleep in our bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, peeking through the curtained voiles that weren’t quite closed. A smile spread across my face at the sight of him, his naked chest on display, his muscled bicep thrown over his face so the minimal sunshine didn’t aggravate his eyes.
I’d never seen him so relaxed.
I was still smiling as I turned my attention away from him and my gaze refocused on the paper aeroplane he’d created, sat on the floor of our bedroom. I’d noticed the heavy weight immediately falling from his shoulders as he’d read aloud the words inked on the page, before he’d shaped the paper and flown it across the room, barely missing the bin.
An aeroplane of ink and paper that told us he was divorced–officially.
I liked the way he made light of it. I liked how he didn’t place the letter to the side of our bed, or leave it out in the open for us to make a big deal from. It felt like a metaphor in a sense–how my flight to London was inbound, whereas this was out and non-returning.
We climbed into bed after that, locked in an embrace with nothing but an “I love you” passed between us, his lips to my temple, and his fingers in my hair.
The two of us had a late night at The Lagoon, so we hadn’t had a chance to soak up what it meant for us, or speak about how much longer we were going to wait before we stepped up our relationship status. That’s not to say things weren’t already in motion, because they were.
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I turned back to my laptop and uploaded my final assessment of the year to Duke.
Things were good.
Really good.
So good that I’d done two years’ worth of work in one.
My phone pinged from my bedside table, and I cringed, realising I’d forgotten to put it on silent. Seeing Ebony’s name on the screen, I went to grab it, but my attention fell away from my phone and to Walker as he shuffled in bed.
“Get back in here,” Walker groaned, peering at me and lifting his arm from the bed to shut down the head of my laptop.
For a second, I didn’t move. I just focused on him. On the colour of his eyes, to the sharp panes of his face, to the stubble on his jaw. I was so grateful for everything he was. For everything he’d done for me. For the way he continued to love me and put me first.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked with his usual morning rasp.
My smile didn’t waver as I pushed the laptop from my legs and climbed back under the covers. And then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he took hold of my hand and directed it onto the thick bulge over the top of his boxer shorts. His cheeks rose with a small grin of his own, but I couldn’t stop the frown forming across my forehead.
“Nate,” I mouthed.
“What?” he replied sincerely, pushing the weight of our hands against his morning wood.
My lips parted in a soundless gasp, but he seemed to be observing my eyes for more of a reaction–one that told him I was hot for him. Still, I couldn’t stop my brain from going there. And by there, I didn’t mean to his divorce. But there, as in, we hadn’t been intimate in seven days. Not while he was recovering from his operation.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I whispered, raising my hand as he stretched the material of his underwear from his hips and pushed them down his legs.
“Does it feel like I’m sure?” He took my hand back in his and guided it onto his hard length. “It was a reversal, baby. What are you worried about?”
What was I worried about?
I licked my lips and his gaze fell to my mouth.
“Actually, I think my cock might need a little kissing better,” he murmured, his mouth pulling up at the corners.
My lashes fluttered and my eyes rolled simultaneously. “That’s not entirely what I meant. I’m glad you’re okay… but are you, you know? Are you still sure?”
He didn’t say anything as my fist tightened around his smooth girth, but with his hand over mine, he encouraged me to stroke him up and down. Within seconds, we reached a steady rhythm, and then he removed his hand, nestling back into the sheets and throwing an arm behind his head, all while watching me touch him.
If I considered him relaxed before, he was even more so now.
I slowed my strokes, not because I didn’t want to touch him, because I did. My underwear was wet already, and if that wasn’t enough proof of my arousal, I don’t know what was. I was just… nervous. Yeah, I wasn’t worried. I was nervous. There was a difference.
He lifted an eyebrow as my cheeks stained with heat. I was too embarrassed to look at him, so I looked down at my fist wrapped around his length. “Are you sure this is what you want?” I blurted, and then mentally slapped myself because it seemed like I was asking his cock the question, and not him.
He chuckled and leant forward to grab me by the hips, tugging me over top of him in one swift movement. My knees hit the bed on either side of his hips, and his cock settled against my slit as he pulled my thong to the side. “How about you rub up on me, baby? Then you can feel how sure I am.”
A smirk lined his lips as I swatted at his chest, and then he dipped forward, taking my lips for a heated kiss. Naturally, I moved against his cock, feeling myself grow wetter.
When he pulled back, he said, “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my whole life. I’m going to marry you, baby. I’m going to make love to you every day until we know for sure I’m back in full working order, and when my seed is finally fucking planted, I’m going to watch your stomach grow with our child. I’m going to hold your hair back when you’re sick. I’m going to hold your hand when you’re screaming blue fucking murder in that hospital room, and there’s no doubt in my mind I won’t stop loving you until I’m forced to stop.” He bit at my neck, angling his cock into my opening as he lifted me by the hips. “So don’t ask me again if I’m sure,” he murmured as he thrust into me. “But if you’re not sure… if you’ve got doubts”—he looked into my eyes as he pulled back out—“then I’ll wait until you’re certain this is everything you want. If it’s not–”
His words hung in the air, but I knew what he was going to say.
If it’s not, we don’t have to.
But I didn’t need to think about it.
I sank back down onto him, and that frown of his I loved so much marred his forehead as I took his cock to the hilt, burrowing myself down on every inch of him.
“That your answer?” he rasped, looking at where our bodies joined.
“Yeah,” I said, bobbing my head as the two of us worked our bodies in sync. “No doubts.”
He groaned, low in his throat, and thrust into me hard. “Seven days was way too long to be without your warmth, baby.”
I fell forward as he penetrated me, not sparing a moment inside me, before he pulled out again and repeated the motion. His mouth pulled down the top of my pyjama top, and as my breasts floated across his face, he used his mouth to divide his attention between each of them.
“Seven days was too long without your cock.” My words were a mixture of moans and whispers as he continued to move in and out of me, fucking me like he’d been without me too long.
When it felt like too much, I wrapped my hands around his head, needing him to take control. And then, taking me by surprise, his palm collided with my ass cheek hard and fast.
“Fuck,” I cursed, feeling my orgasm pending. “Do it again.”
I needn’t have asked him, because his palm was already hitting my ass cheek for the second time before I’d even finished my sentence.
“Such a needy brat. You want me to put a baby in you?” he rasped, rubbing the sting of his slap away.
My pussy clenched around him, and my fingers tugged on his dishevelled hair as I moaned an incoherent “Yeah.”
I felt the vibration of his chest as he chuckled, but in spite of that, both his hands went to my ass and his palms spread my cheeks as his cock hit a spot deep inside of me.
“Say it.”
I captured his eyes with mine. “I want you to put a baby in me.”
“Fuck.” He grinned, seizing my lips in a kiss.
He shifted his hips, filling me to the brink, and my clit sought friction against him with every thrust. A ripple started in my toes, making its way up my body, and the moment it reached between my thighs, my legs began to shake.
All I felt was him.
All I could taste was us.
All I could see was our future.
I felt the moment he came, the moment his cum spilled into me and filled me up. But unlike any time before, this time it held purpose. My body burned as I came with him, and when it was all over, I collapsed against his chest.
Our foreheads stuck together with perspiration, our eyes dancing as they glazed across one another’s with emotion.
His hand reached up to cup my cheek. “You good?”
“I’m more than good,” I whispered.
“More than good, huh?” he replied, his lips pulling into a smile.
I nodded gently, teasing his lips with mine. “So much more than good.”
His smile widened, and then he breathed whispered words of “I fucking love you” across my lips before sealing them with a kiss.
Now I’m lucky, I thought.
Lucky to love someone so much, and be loved so much in return.
