Epilogue #4
Pulling off me, he grabs my hand and scooches back, giving me room to kneel in front of him on the bed.
He leans over to the nightstand to work some lube onto his fingers and then comes back and slicks me up.
He doesn’t need long to make himself ready before seating himself on my lap, taking me in fully with his body pressed against mine.
Our moans harmonize as the sensation travels through me to him and back again.
I hold my arms around his more delicate frame, tracing my fingers up and down the length of his spine, inhaling the subtle scent of spring I’ve come to know by heart.
It envelopes me, reaches in through my nose, and wraps itself around my lungs like a vine.
I’d gladly drown in the smell of him if it meant I could keep it forever.
Luke takes control at first, setting the pace, moving his body against mine as he takes exactly what he wants.
His face and chest are flushed, his eyes closed in rapturous bliss, and I can’t help but put my lips to his skin.
He moans my name, sending a lightning bolt across my skin.
It fills me with ravenous energy, knowing that I’m the one giving him this pleasure.
As I watch him, my eyes mapping every detail, making a permanent etching in my memory of this moment, there’s only one thought in my brain. I’m going to marry this man. It consumes me, driving me further into a frenzy as the pleasure in my core builds, nearly toppling me over the edge in ecstasy.
My need takes over with a primal energy, and I toss Luke back against the bed, changing positions.
He looks at me with eager, wild eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire.
He welcomes me as I crash my lips against his, my tongue pushing its way into his mouth.
He bites my lower lip, then rakes his fingers along my back, pulling me as close to him as possible.
“Ethan,” he moans against my lips, his arms tightening around my neck. He’s losing restraint, nearing the edge.
I put my teeth to his ear, moving a hand down to stroke his swollen length between us.
Luke cries out, begging me to keep going—don’t stop, don’t stop—his body riding the pleasure he feels with me inside him, hitting all the right spots.
And when he finally comes, the release is so intense that it takes control of him, and he clings to me, holding me in his final throes.
It’s enough to throw me over the edge with him, my orgasm ripping through me just as violently, just as blindingly intense.
After I slowly regain brain function, I can feel him shaking beneath me with the aftershocks of pleasure.
I’m shaking, too. My arms are too weak to lift me, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind having the full weight of me on his chest, even though he’s a breathless mess.
His heart is racing to the point that I can feel it in his pulse where my nose is buried in the crook of his neck.
Eventually, he’s capable of lifting a hand to my hair, and he turns his face to mine. He kisses me gently, pressing our foreheads together.
“Wow,” is all he says, that devastating little half-smile creeping up his lips. That tantalizing, delectable smile.
I kiss him again, throwing all my heart and soul behind the motion.
No words could ever fully convey the depth of love I have for this man, but I know he feels it in moments like these.
He holds me just as tightly to him—like he never wants to let me go.
Despite the recent exertion leaving us both limp and weak, with a kiss like this, I could easily go another round in a matter of minutes.
Instead, I pull away, watching his face morph through euphoria to contented bliss. He opens his eyes and looks at me with such reverence that my heart feels ready to burst.
It hits me then, the words coming to my mouth so smoothly, you’d have thought I planned this from the start—a call back to one of our recurring inside jokes from the beginning of our relationship.
It couldn’t be more perfect. Surprisingly, there are no nerves to be found as I realize what I’m about to do.
“What’s your name, baby?” I tease, my hand tracing his face, my fingers brushing up through the thick strands of his golden hair.
Luke’s answering smile is sinful, but he responds like he always does with the silly quip. “Whatever you want it to be.”
“How about Carlson-Shaw?”
It takes a second to land, but I watch as Luke’s brows furrow with confusion before morphing into skepticism. Then, he finally ventures into shocked disbelief as he searches my face eagerly, and I know he understands what I mean, even though he doesn’t quite believe it.
“Ethan….”
I pull away from him briefly, leaning over the edge of the bed in search of my pants.
Luke watches me, baffled, but intrigued, as I fish through the pockets and produce the ring box that has been weighing on me all night.
When I return to him, I open the lid and watch his eyes grow wide as the reality of what’s happening strikes through him.
He gasps, putting a hand over his mouth in surprise.
“Luke Shaw,” I say, and his eyes snap to mine, happy tears brimming to the surface.
It’s enough to bring them to mine, but my voice never wavers.
“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever known.
You’ve changed my life in every possible way, and you’ve made me a better man.
These last two years have been a gift that I never thought I’d get to experience until I met you.
I love you so much that it fucking hurts. ”
Luke lets out a small laugh, and the smile on his lips is dazzling. He cups a hand to my cheek, his eyes mapping mine with the same feeling I’m expressing echoing out of him. There is no doubt that he feels the same way.
“Loving you is the easiest thing in the world for me,” I say, “and I can’t imagine a day going by where that won’t be true.
Everything I do, I want to do it with you.
Everywhere you go, I want to go, too. You’re my person.
I want the world to know it. I want people to see you in the street and know you’re unquestionably, unequivocally mine. I need you to be mine forever.”
“Then ask me,” Luke cries, the demand laced with eagerness. It draws a smile from my lips, my heart so full it could burst.
“Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
“Yes! God, yes. A thousand times, fucking yes!”
Luke crashes his lips to mine, sloppy, wet with his tears, but hands down in the top ten for best kiss I’ve ever received.
Nothing can beat this rush, knowing he’s just agreed to marry me.
As I officially slip the ring on his finger, his happy tears swell, and he studies the intricate gold band and the delicate floral carvings carefully inlaid with small diamonds that give it a bit of extra sparkle.
As soon as I saw it at the jewelry shop, I knew it was the one—and based on how Luke reverently stares at it, it seems I was right.
“Ethan… How did you… When did you… God, I love you,” he eventually says, turning his eyes to mine. There’s no mistaking the weight of sentiment behind the words in how he looks at me. It sends a quiver down my spine.
I stroke my thumb along his jaw. “Are you surprised?”
“I had no idea!” He chuckles, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I still can’t believe it. You’re not my boyfriend anymore. You’re my fiancé.”
The word rips through me with a new sense of gratification, and I can feel my cheeks warm with the sensation.
Fiancé. Hearing it confirmed like that hits me more viscerally than I could have expected.
Months of planning and stressing, culminated in this moment where everything’s finally real.
My breath hitches slightly, and it’s enough that Luke can sense the difference in me. His eyes soften.
“Baby,” he says, a smile tugging on his lips.
He doesn’t need to say anything else. He knows exactly what I’m feeling—he always seems to know.
I’ll never get over how easy it is for this man to see me.
Or how all it takes for him to turn off the avalanche of thoughts that could otherwise bury me alive is a kiss that has me seeing stars instead.
His touch sends molten lava through my core, igniting every nerve ending, every neural synapse in my brain until I feel more lit up than the house below us.
Luke’s not shy about the way he travels every inch of my body with vigor like he’s surveying newly conquered land; as if he didn’t know how thoroughly he’d already invaded my senses.
My body responds like he’s flipped all the magical switches to get me going, and his need is evident as he presses himself against me.
We go in for round two, taking our time with each other, almost like it’s a new experience.
There’s no rush to get to the finish line.
My senses are newly heightened, freshly attuned to the sounds he’s making.
He’s just as receptive, lost to pure sensation.
Seeing him so undone beneath me, knowing that I’ve come to my own point of unraveling beyond recognition, only proves that I’m hopelessly bound to him.
As our pleasure peaks, both of us reaching our glorious crescendo, it feels that much more blissful with this new covenant between us. And Luke, a bedraggled, sweaty mess—who definitely looks like he’s just had his back blown out—is so fucking beautiful that my heart aches just looking at him.
I tell him as much, and he laughs, leaning in to kiss me again. This time, it’s tender. Loving. Yet equally as electrifying as our more passionate embraces. Then he curls up against my chest, settling in as if he wants to stay like this forever. As if we could meld together, never to be separated.