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EMBERLY
I slump back against the mattress, my heart beating in unison with Roman’s, and our breaths mingling. Tonight is one of many firsts: the first time I’ve ever felt so close to a lover, the first time I’ve felt so accepted, and the first time I’ve ever submitted so completely to a man.
The bond between us is so natural that all previous sexual experiences now feel like obstacles I had to navigate to find my way to Roman. He’s my perfect match.
Something about the way he made love to me was different. More tender. More loving. More connected. It’s so hard to explain, but it felt like being owned and even claimed. Maybe it’s just me projecting, but I got the impression that he wanted to convey the depth of his emotions with every thrust.
My pussy twitches around his softening cock as though never wanting him to withdraw. This is exactly where he belongs.
“I love you, too,” I murmur as my eyelids flutter closed.
Roman says something else, but I feel so relaxed that his words fade into a gentle hum. I’m so deeply steeped in bliss that nothing else seems to matter.
Somewhere on the edge of my awareness, Roman’s larger body drifts inches away from mine. The pressure eases off my wrists and then off my ankles, and he rearranges our bodies, so I’m cradled in his arms with my head resting on his chest.
His lips touch my brow, and his arms wrap around my waist like a protective shield. Roman’s breathing slows, and I fall asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.
* * *
Hours later, soft kisses pull me out of slumber. Roman’s hands roam down my waist and rub circles over the curve of my ass.
Sensation skitters across my skin, awakening my senses, leaving me tingling with anticipation. Shifting, I brush my thigh against his hard cock.
“Good morning, baby,” he murmurs into my ear.
“I had the craziest dream last night,” I say.
His deep chuckle rumbles from beneath. “Tell me about it.”
I giggle. “You and I went to a casino in Las Vegas?—”
“New Alderney.”
I give him a playful swat. “Are you telling this story, or am I?”
“Sorry, baby.”
“We had dinner and met Elvis.”
He snorts.
“Of course, it wasn’t the real Elvis, but an impersonator.”
“Did he sing Jailhouse Rock?”
“Okay, you’re pissing me off,” I say with a laugh.
“Please continue.”
“Elvis took us to a little chapel, and you sang some wedding vows. I was your backup singer. At the end, he told us to kiss, and we were married.” I wait for Roman to laugh or make a sarcastic comment, but he falls silent.
“Roman?”
“Would you marry me?” he blurts, his heart beating fast.
I release a shocked laugh, but he remains quiet.
Silence stretches out for several heartbeats more than I can bear. I crack open an eye to meet his gaze.
