Epilogue #4
Swaying and bouncing, I moved my hips up and down, taking him deep into myself and savoring every grunt and moan I squeezed from his body.
And when Beckett put his hands on my waist and lifted me off his abdomen, I forced myself into a relaxed state.
His abs flexed hard as he rammed me from below, making me gasp for air, causing my head to fall back, and filling me with all his length.
As his girth stretched me loose, his crotch slapped wetly against my butt, and his cock rubbed mercilessly against my prostate.
A litany of profanity spewed from his lips, almost getting me to blush.
And as he had his way with me, sweat broke out over my body.
My cock bounced hard until Beckett was out of breath and I forced him back on the floor, then rode him slowly and passionately with my back still turned to him.
I took him deep, grinding myself against him and feeling every single inch of him.
The connection was incredible. Every ounce of trust we had carved out for one another was here. Every glimmer of love I felt for him brightened within me. Our souls were one gigantic being, far larger than the sum of its parts. Our hearts were connected via an invisible and unbreakable string.
I raised my hips all the way and let him slide out of me, then caught my breath. A moment later, I fell on my side and kissed my love. “I want to look at you,” I whispered over his lips and let him position us however he liked.
I lay on my back, then, and Beckett knelt between my legs.
He entered me easily, getting a few stifled moans to squeeze through my gritted teeth.
He waited until I wrapped my legs around his waist, then rammed me so hard that my body jerked away from him purely because of the impact.
Beckett’s hands pressed against my chest, then reached all the way to my neck.
He wrapped them around it, holding me firmly in place as he stuffed me repeatedly.
His brown gaze was locked to my eyes, his sweaty brow covered with floppy locks of hair, and his lips pulled from his pearly teeth.
He grunted as he fucked me, moaning every once in a while with a sort of gentleness only I knew he had.
As our eye contact continued, he whispered how much he loved me and my world spun around.
Though all the filth that had left his lips in our passion turned me on, his confession of love was another level of sexy talk.
And when he smiled for me, I cried out and contorted my body against him, my hole clenching quickly as my cock throbbed and spilled cum all over my stomach.
Beckett’s eyebrows rose, his mouth opened, and he breathed quickly as he reached his climax. His cock buried deep inside of me, throbbing, filling me with his white heat. And I took it all, every last drop he had to offer, as he thrust into me once and twice again.
Every muscle in my body was tense. Every nerve ending was afire.
My toes curled and air seeped into my lungs when I opened my mouth to breathe.
Beckett slipped out of me, letting my hole close tightly and keep his cum inside by pulsing body.
His lips found mine and we kissed for a long time, his stomach pressing against mine, smearing my wetness between us.
I kept his inside of me, knowing we weren’t done for the night.
Later, when we recovered some of our strength, he would fuck me again and I would already have him in my body.
But for now, I kissed him like it was the last chance I had.
I kissed him slowly and passionately, soothing every physical ache with this display of intimacy.
“You, my love, are such perfection,” he whispered.
I pulled him into a tangle of limbs, sweat, and cum. I held him as the fire blazed in the hearth and music filled our time of rest. “Nah, baby. That’s always been you.”
“Both of us, then,” Beckett insisted, his lips on my neck. “And I won’t argue about it.”
I chuckled. “But arguing has always been our love language,” I pointed out.
“Mm. A dialect, maybe. But this is the language we both speak fluently,” he said, his fingers following the curves of my body wherever he could reach me without moving from my hold. “I love you, Caden.”
“I love you, too, Beckett,” I said. “More than I can tell you.”
“I know that.” His sleepy voice was a balm to my ears.
The truth was, I didn’t need to tell him that.
I rarely had to tell him anything. He knew.
And all I ever had to do was show it. For so much of our relationship, words had only gotten in the way of things neither knew how to express verbally.
Beckett and I had to invent other ways to prove to one another what this feeling deep within us actually was.
It was love, yes. But it was a far-reaching kind of love.
It involved loyalty in the hard times and endless fun in the good times.
Our love was a shared morning and showering together.
Our love was cutting the crust from his toast and the love of tasting his ever-weirder cocktail ideas.
Our love meant I encouraged him even if we both knew he wouldn’t become a mixologist. And it meant I would follow him to the edge of the world because I trusted that every risk he took was for our greater good.
And that was how we loved each other.