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"God, you're so tight," I rasp out, each inch I claim in her warmth stretching the both of us to an exquisite tension.
Abby's response is a moan that seems to drag the very soul from her body. Her nails find purchase on my back, scoring down my skin in a delicious sting that sends jolts of pleasure-pain straight to my groin. "Merrick..." It's a plea, a command, everything all at once.
I set a rhythm, rocking into her with controlled thrusts, each movement deeper than the last. Our breathing syncs, labored and heavy, punctuated by the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. The world narrows down to this room, this bed, this woman whose body sings beneath mine.
"More," she gasps, and I comply, my strokes becoming more insistent, more demanding. The slick slide of our bodies together is the perfect dance.
"Fuck, Abby, you feel incredible," I grunt, my voice hoarse with desire.
"Yours," she breathes out, and that single word is my undoing. It's all the permission I need to let go, to lose myself in the tidal wave of passion that threatens to break over us.
Our movements grow frenzied, desperate, as if we can't get close enough, can't become one fast enough. Her cries crescendo with each thrust, urging me on, and I anchor myself in the heat of her gaze, the unspoken promises reflected there.
"Come with me," I urge between gritted teeth, feeling the pressure build at the base of my spine.
She meets my eyes, nodding, her body clenching around me in sweet surrender. As I watch the ecstasy wash over her face, her inner walls fluttering around me, I'm catapulted over the edge into blinding pleasure. We shudder together, a perfect storm of sensation that obliterates thought, coherent words, everything except the here and now.
As the ripples of our climax subside, leaving us gasping and clinging to each other, I collapse beside her, pulling Abby close. Her heartbeat drums against my chest, a testament to the intensity of what we've shared.
"Damn," she whispers, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
"Understatement of the century," I manage to say, still reeling. And for a long moment, we just lie there, basking in the afterglow.
I brush a lock of hair from Abby's forehead, my chest swelling with something so fierce it could be nothing other than love. Her eyelids flutter open, revealing pools of liquid chocolate, deep and warm. In them, I see my future—our future.
"Abby," my voice comes out hoarse, raw from passion, "I want everything with you. A lifetime of mornings like this, nights that never end..." My throat tightens as I say the words that have been burning inside me, "I want to fill our lives with mini versions of us, to build a family together."
Her eyes widen, but they don't waver. They anchor me, hold me steady in their gaze. "Merrick, you're my heart," she says, her voice soft as silk, strong as steel. "I've never been more certain of anything."
We lie there, wrapped in each other, skin on skin, hearts melded together. The silence is comfortable, filled with the symphony of our synchronized breathing. I trace patterns on her back, marveling at how natural it feels to consider a future with Abby. Not just any future, but one with laughter ringing through the halls, little feet pattering about, and her, always her, by my side.
"Tell me," I murmur, "what do you dream about for us?"
She props herself up on an elbow, her hair cascading around her shoulders like a dark waterfall. "I dream of a home filled with love, where every corner holds a memory we've made." Abby bites her lip, a playful glint in her eye. "And I dream of making those memories everywhere...the kitchen, the living room, even the garden."
"Naughty and nice," I chuckle, pulling her close again. "I love that about you."
"Good," she says, her fingers tracing the lines of my chest, "because I plan on keeping you on your toes, Mr. Mason. Every step of the way."
"Is that a promise, Mrs. Mason?" I tease, already envisioning a life of chasing this incredible woman through all our tomorrows.
"Absolutely," Abby whispers against my lips before sealing her promise with a kiss.
* * *
I lean back in my leather chair and watch Abby as she pores over the spreadsheets scattered across the desk, her brow furrowing with concentration. I can't help the smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. Who would've thought that Abby, free-spirited and wild, would have such a knack for numbers?
"Got it!" she exclaims, looking up at me with triumphant eyes. "If we streamline the distribution process like this," she taps the paper with her pen, "we'll increase efficiency by at least fifteen percent."
"Damn, you're good," I say, genuinely impressed. Our business meetings have been more productive since Abby joined the fray. She’s not just decoration in my office. She's become the brain behind some of our best moves.
"Wait till you see what else I'm good at," she teases with a playful wink.
And just like that, the air between us crackles with electricity. The numbers on the papers might as well be ancient hieroglyphs because there's no way I can focus on them now—not with the way Abby's tongue darts out to wet her lips, a subtle promise of what's to come.
"Is that so?" My voice drops an octave as I stand and make my way around the desk. Her eyes follow my every move, darkening with desire.
"Absolutely," she whispers, and in two long strides, I'm right in front of her, pulling her up by the hands so her body crashes into mine.
