Epilogue #3
I rise up for him, presumably so he can aim himself—I still cannot see a fucking thing and he still does not alleviate this fact—and then he guides me back down into his lap.
Onto him, and even with all the lube and prep in the world he’s still so, so much.
I’m fighting for my life and fighting for every inch of him, sliding down the length of his dick as far as I can.
My breath escapes me in one, high-pitched sigh.
It’s so intense. So fucking intense from this angle, in this position, and I can’t see him or what he’s doing, only feel it.
And I’m feeling it like I never have before, every fucking dimension of his big gorgeous veiny cock deep inside me, like it’s penetrating more than just my hole. He’s in my goddamn guts.
And then we both move, slow at first, his hips rising to meet mine.
We’re out of sync at first, and without being able to see it’s hard—but eventually I get the sense of him and his rhythm.
His hands, coming up and around to grasp my hips to help me balance while my arms are still bound.
His breath hitching with every thrust, and sometimes I’m even rewarded with a low, quick groan.
My twitching cock slides between our stomachs.
Luca reaches around me and the ribbon comes loose and suddenly my arms are free.
Immediately I reach for him, blindly, finding his broad shoulders, his firm traps, the sides of his neck.
He lays me down on the soft rug, still inside me, and I plunge my hands into his hair as his mouth collides with mine.
We kiss, hard and open-mouthed, teeth clicking and tongues searching.
He sets a pace nothing short of punishing, and the only thing louder than his skin impacting mine are the sounds I’m making, back arched up off the floor, head lolled back, crying out over and over some unholy combination of his name and daddy and harder because fuck walking tomorrow, don’t need it, I just want more and more.
Need it or I’ll die. Need to be utterly destroyed and wasted by him.
“Close.” His lips are on my ear and my insides dissolve. “Where do you want me? Want me to come inside you?”
“Fuck yes.” Always.
He wraps a hand at last around my neglected cock and with one pump I finish, spectacularly, everywhere, like I’ve been waiting my whole entire life to do it, spilling hot all over my stomach and chest. I hardly get a chance to even process my own orgasm before I feel him go, too, with a loud groan as he claims my mouth once more.
Filling me up and up and it’s so damn much, for a moment almost too much, the sensations of everything all at once.
I rake his back with my nails and he gasps into the kiss.
Don’t feel bad because I’ve gone all gooey, puddling on the rug trying to catch my breath and remember how to be a person again.
The blindfold suddenly comes off and I’m left blinking at Luca’s face, which is right there, so near and dear. He cups my cheeks and presses his forehead to mine. “Marry me,” he says breathlessly.
“Huh?” I don’t think I’ve heard him quite right. My heart is pounding a deafening tattoo in my ears, blood roaring like waves on a shore. My chest seems to be jolting with every beat. “What did you say?”
“Marry me,” he says again because I guess I did hear him correctly the first time, and I’m still just as fucking bewildered.
He’s rubbing his nose against mine and being all sweet and I’m still covered in my own come and I don’t know what the fuck is happening.
His dick’s still inside me. “Noel, let’s get married. ”
“What are you talking about?” I say wildly. “Married? Like, with rings and shit? And a wedding? In a church?” I’ve never even been to a wedding and I don’t think I can go into a church. I’ll be set on fire. I’ll be exorcised.
“If you really want.” He’s kissing my face now, over and over, his stubble scratchy on my skin. “I was thinking outside. On a beach. Or in our backyard. Or the courthouse if you don’t want a big affair. Wherever you want, I’m good.”
“Luca.”
“What?” He draws back to look at me, gaze searching mine as he smiles. “Noel, I’m being serious.”
“No you’re not. You can’t be. You literally just got divorced.
” I’m babbling, I think, trying to make it make sense because why the fuck would he want to marry me?
Why would anyone? I do not scream marriage material; I’ve never even thought about getting married, not once.
Okay, maybe I have, maybe in my wildest fantastical dreams, but those don’t count.
“You’re just feeling sappy because it’s my birthday, and we just had good sex, or whatever, and now you’re being all impulsive—”
“Not true, actually.” And Luca slides out of me with a wet pop, still half-hard, and I miss the weight and feel of him when he rises to his feet.
I’m cold despite the roaring fire, shivering, watching him reach for something on the mantel, something else he must’ve brought out, and I didn’t see or notice.
He proffers it to me. It’s a small green velvet box and suddenly my mouth is dry and my throat is tight and I have to clap my hand over my mouth to hide the way it’s suddenly distorting because yes, here it is, I’m about to cry again.
He opens the lid and nestled inside is the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen, hands down, a big black glittery diamond with tiny gray ones set into the white gold band.
“What the fuck,” I mumble.
“I thought about popping the question at dinner,” he says softly, taking my other hand when I reach for him.
His thumb rubs over my knuckles. “But then I figured that might be too much of a spectacle for either of us, so I was waiting for the perfect moment all day, pretty much.” He watches me as I weep wordlessly. “Do you want to try it on?”
I nod fiercely and he takes it out, setting the box aside on the rug.
The ring’s a delicate thing, sparkling in the firelight as he slides it onto the third finger of my left hand and it fits perfectly and I think I’m really gonna fucking lose it because holy shit, holy fuck, am I actually being proposed to right now?
Is this a thing? Is this real? And by the most beautiful man on the planet, too, is this happening?
Luca examines my hand in the flickering light. “Gorgeous,” he says. “Like you.” I still can’t speak, still overwrought and overcome and over-everything, and he gives me a gentle, crooked smile. “What do you think? I can’t tell if these are happy tears or ‘oh god no’ tears.”
“Of course they’re happy tears!” I blurt out before launching myself at him, mess be damned, because this really is the most on brand proposal for me if I think about it—freshly fucked, covered in his fluids and mine, and bawling my goddamn eyes out like an absolute lunatic.
I’m blubbering into his neck while he holds me so, so tight, those bone crushing hugs I absolutely love.
“We could go to Crete for a honeymoon,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “If you wanted.”
“I do want.” Oh my god.
“So that’s a yes?” He moves just enough to gaze into my eyes. “Because you never actually said one way or the other.”
“Yes, yes, it’s a yes.” I grab his face in my hands. “Would I ask you to put the ring on me in the first place if it wasn’t? Jesus, Luca.” I’m crying and smiling while I’m giving him shit, smushing his cheeks. “You’re such a fucking dork.”
“Hey, I just wanted to be sure.”
“You know you’re a dumb ass, right?” I say in delight. I think my face is going to split in half from how hard I’m cheesing. “Wanting to get married again. To me, of all people. I could take everything from you. I could make your life hell.”
“That implies we get divorced,” Luca points out. “Also, I’m pretty sure you make more money than me if we include your commission work, so maybe I’d be the one asking for alimony from you.”
“You want to be a kept daddy?”
He gives my ass a playful swat. “You’re such a fucking brat.”
“No take backs.” I kiss him. “You can’t un-engage me. I’m not allowing it. I’ll graft this ring to my finger if I have to.”
“Not necessary,” he assures me. “I have no intention of un-engaging you.”
“Fuck, Luca. You really mean this? You want to marry me? Why?” I rub at my eyes and take half my makeup with it. “We could’ve just stayed together as life partners or whatever. You didn’t have to go all out and prove something to me.”
“I wanted to, though.” He kisses the corner of my mouth as his hands slide down around my waist. “Marry you. We’ve been through hell, Noel, mostly because of me. And you’re still here. You found something worth loving in me, for whatever reason—”
“There’s a lot to love,” I say, a little sharply.
“And you saw that.” He kisses me again. “You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, stunt girl.
You’re gorgeous and funny and clever and talented—and you call me out on my bullshit, too.
You’re all of everything I could ever want.
Why wouldn’t I want to be with you for the rest of my life?
” I sniff and he’s quick to wipe away the fresh onslaught of tears. “This is real. It’s always been real.”
And that’s all I’d ever really wanted, the one thing I’d begged him for, the one thing that mattered—for this to be real.
I believe him.
He carries me to the bathroom so we can shower and get ready for bed.
The dogs have already assembled around the bed on their rugs, and the moment my head hits the pillow I’m asleep, before Luca gets a chance to even wrap his arms around me.
But hours later in the pre-dawn darkness I stir, and he stirs, and we’re making love all over again, the slow, sweet and sleepy kind with so very little expectation except to glory in the feel of one another, kissing and touching and moaning softly into each other’s mouths.
Luca.
My fiancé, future husband, former ex, love of my fucking life and eternal pain in my ass. Oh, I adore him so, even after everything he put me through and he more than made up for it in the end. No, there’s not a thing I would change, not if it couldn’t guarantee me this, and this—oh, and this.
Now I can truly say I want for absolutely nothing.
“Mine,” he whispers against my ear, spreading my thighs apart.
Yours.