Chapter 28 Ego
Ego
She fell asleep in my arms, curled against my chest like she was always meant to be there.
And I didn’t move.
Not once.
I just held her, memorizing the rhythm of her breathing.
The quiet sounds she makes when she shifts in her sleep.
The warm weight of her body tucked into mine like the missing piece of a life I didn’t realize was broken until I met her.
Even now, hours later, I’m still holding her. Our legs tangled under the covers, my arms wrapped tight around her like I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let go.
Because I am afraid.
Not of anything outside.
Of me.
Of losing this. Losing her.
Because I’ve never had anything this good, this pure, this real—and I don’t think I’ll survive if it slips through my fingers again.
The light in the room is soft when I finally blink my eyes open, gray morning filtering through the curtains.
My body’s sore—bruised ribs, shoulder, road rash from where I skidded across that fucking parking garage fighting my idiot brother—but she’s the only thing I feel.
She’s warm against me. Her back to my chest.
My hand spread over her belly, fingers splayed like I’m trying to memorize every curve.
And even in sleep, she fits me.
Like we were made for this.
I press a kiss to her shoulder, then to her neck. Her skin tastes like sleep and sweetness and home.
She stirs, shifting against me, and I feel her breath hitch as my hand slides lower.
“Good morning, Angel,” I whisper, voice rough with sleep and everything I’m feeling but don’t know how to say.
She hums, arching her back, and I bite back a groan as my cock hardens against the curve of her ass.
“I need you again,” I murmur, my hand cupping her breast, thumb grazing her nipple as it peaks under my touch. “Still sore?”
“A little,” she whispers. “But I want you.”
Fuck.
That seals it.
Those words light me up from the inside.
I move slowly, giving her time to stop me—but she doesn’t.
She presses back into me, her hips rolling instinctively, and I slide my hand between her thighs, finding her wet and warm and already ready for me.
God, she’s perfect.
I slide inside her sopping wet pussy from behind, my arm locking around her waist as I push in deep.
She is always so wet for me. So hot. So warm. Mine.
She gasps, her fingers fisting in the sheets, and I press a kiss to the back of her neck.
“I love you,” I whisper, thrusting slow and deep, savoring every second inside her. “I love you so fucking much.”
She moans, turning her face toward me, and I kiss her—messy, desperate, like I’m trying to pour all my fear and hope and hunger into her mouth.
I never want to stop.
But I know I have to say this now.
While I still have the guts.
While she’s still letting me in.
While we’re both in it.
I slow my thrusts, holding still inside her, and rest my forehead against the curve of her shoulder.
“Marry me,” I whisper.
Her body tenses.
“I mean it, Angel. I want to be yours. Forever. No matter what kind of hell we have to walk through—even though I’m predicting nothing but sunshine and daisies from here on out—I’m not going anywhere.”
I press another kiss to her neck, then her jaw, then her temple.
“Theo, are you sure?”
“Yes. I don’t want to waste another second pretending I’m not yours already. I love you. I need you. I want to wake up next to you like this for the rest of my life.”
I slide out of her as she turns in my arms, her legs wrapping around me, eyes wide and wet and beautiful.
She takes my cock in hand and fits it to her entrance, and I groan as I push back in.
“Sabrina? I need an answer, Angel.”
“You really want to marry me?” she breathes, blinking at me like she doesn’t believe it.
I slide out, then push back in. Fucking her slowly, completely, because however this goes, I just can’t stop.
This woman owns me, body, heart, and soul.
“I want to belong to you,” I rasp as her pussy clenches around me. “In every way I can. I want to give you my name, my house, my future. All of it. It’s yours, Angel. Say yes. Please.”
And then I start to move harder, deeper, reverent—every flex and slide is full of every ounce of love I’ve got left in me—and I pray that by the time we both fall apart, she’ll say the only word I need to hear.
I reach between us, strumming her clit because I need this.
Need her to come before I explode inside her.
“Yes, Theo. Oh God, yes, I’ll marry you!”
Thank fuck.