Chapter Fifty-Four
S he gutted me .
And fused pieces together I’d never connected.
Now my ink meant more. She meant more. Her son meant more.
Everything was merging.
The way it should have.
The way it was meant to.
I fingered a strand of her hair.
Her hand brushed over my pecs.
My seed inside her, contentment stilled me. No numbers, no calculations.
“Why did you get so much ink?” she asked.
I ran through a mental checklist of reasons. Hiding who I was. Erasing the past. Becoming someone else. Embracing the pain. I liked it. It made people notice the ink and not me. I thought through all the possible answers I could give her.
She smiled. “Don’t formulate an answer you think I want to hear. Just tell me.”
I loved her. “I love you.”
Bright and honest, she smiled wide. “You said that.”
“Bears repeating.”
She sobered. “I think I fell in love with you seven years ago when you told me I deserved more.”
“That was my intent.”
“Which? The falling for you or not taking advantage of me back then?”
“Both.”
She snuggled in to my chest. “Well played, Mr. Vos.”
“I wasn’t playing.” Eight seconds. That’s how long it took me to fall for her.
Her hair wild, her cheeks flushed, the scent of sex everywhere, she picked her head up and looked at me. “I know that… now.”
I wanted to fuck her again. “Good.”
Shy, unfiltered, she smiled. “We’re doing this?”
I didn’t censor. “All the way.” She was mine.
Color hit her cheeks. “Okay.”
I stroked her soft cheek. “When do we need to get back for the babysitter?”
“I love that,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The we part.”
I pulled her on to my chest. Then I made sure she knew exactly what I wanted. “I meant everything I said. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want you and Nash to move in. I want you carrying my child. I want you home. I want your last name to change.”
She swallowed. “Is that a marriage proposal?”
“That was intent.” I rolled her to her back and pushed her thigh wide. “This is a proposal.” I shoved into her.
Her lips formed a perfect O.
“Kyrie Eleison Asher, will you marry me?”
Humor touched her eyes. “No ring?”
I took her hand and put it over my heart. “You have my heart, my body, and my love. You can pick a ring out tomorrow.”
Her entire face softened. “I love you, Preston Vos.”
Goddamn it. “Marry me,” I demanded.
“Okay.” She smiled.
“Woman.” I shook my head and fought a smile.
A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Am I frustrating you?”
Still holding her hand to my chest, I grasped her hip and rolled. I wanted to look at her lush breasts when I fucked her. “You live to frustrate me.”
She looked down at our hands still on my chest, and suddenly a giggle, feminine and soft, escaped, followed by another. Then, as if it were a ripstop being pulled, her giggles cascaded into laughter. Deep belly laughter. “You, you….” Tears escaped. Sitting up astride my hips, my dick inside her, she clutched her stomach. “You tattooed a cupcake on you!”
I fucking smiled.
“A cupcake!” she said again, dissolving into near hysteria as she fell to her side.
My cock dislodged from her sweet cunt.
“You have dessert inked on your chest!” Her hands over her face, tears slid down her cheeks. “A Marine with a cupcake!”
I put my hand under my head and watched her.
Her laughter settled back down to giggles and she swiped at her face.
Amused, I waited.
She peeked up at me, and a fresh wave of giggles cascaded out of her.
That mouth.
Those lips.
“Cupcake,” she taunted, grinning, teasing me.
I wanted to fuck her mouth. “I’m your dessert.”
Rolling to her back, she brought her knees up to her chest, her ankles crossed and she wrapped her arms around her legs as laughter pealed out of her.
I took advantage of her position. Stroking through her wetness, I sank two fingers inside her.
Her laughter instantly choked out, and a moan escaped her lips. “You’re my dirty dessert.”
Grabbing her hips, I shoved into her.
Her mouth opened with a gasp, and her sweet cunt pulsed around me.
“I’m your everything,” I corrected.