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"I do. As the solution involves you." He rocks his hips again, making my already sensitive pussy jolt. I squeeze down on him in response, and he grins.
"Okay. What is it." I never thought I'd be having a business conversation while being fucked and tied to a bed.
"Marry me."
Everything stops. I think the world actually stops spinning. I know I'm not breathing. "What?" It comes out as a nothing more than a breath.
He leans down and kisses me, moving slowly inside me. "Marry me,” he says again. "No one can say I'm doing a bad job with my company because I'm engaged."
"That's true,” I say.
"But I don't care about that. That's a bonus. I care about the fact that it's the only thing I actually want in this world." He presses a soft kiss to my lips, my forehead, my eyes. "Marry me."
I smile. "Is that a command?"
"A request."
"Then I say yes."
He kisses me again, harder, and starts to move in earnest. He doesn't let me go, and we breathe together as he moves faster, plunging deep inside over and over. He moves inside me until I'm crying out against his mouth, begging for release. He thrusts a final time, and he sends me over the cliff. This time I know he'll be there to catch me.
20
Alyssa
Six Months Later
This beach at night might be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The moon is floating over the water, and behind me the brand new Saxon Hotel on Italy's southern coast is lit up like Christmas. The grand opening party is still going strong, and music floats down to where I'm standing.
The moon catches the ring on my finger, and I can't help but be distracted by the way the moon sparks off the diamond. The warm water of the Mediterranean snakes through my toes, and warm arms circle me from behind. There's a kiss behind my ear. "I lost you,” he says.
"Looks like you found me." I lean my head back on his shoulder and gaze up at the sky. "It's so beautiful here."
"Good spot for a honeymoon?"
I sigh. "I suppose I can wait six more months to come back here."
"Six months to the day,” he says, his lips leaving a trail from my neck to my shoulder.
"You're counting?"
He moves the strap of my dress off my shoulder to have better access to my skin. "I am. In one-hundred and eighty-three days I get to call you my wife."
A blush of happiness moves through my chest. "Husband."
I feel him smile against my skin. "See? It's worth counting."
We stand in silence for awhile, swaying with the music and feeling the sea wash way the sand beneath our feet. "We could do more than honeymoon here, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…” He spins me around to face him, and his face is illuminated by the moon. "We could get married here if you want."
"Here?"
"Here." He's smiling.
I look around at the beach, and I imagine walking towards him across the sand, a white dress floating around my feet. Suddenly I can't keep the smile off my face. "That is absolutely perfect. Family and friends?"
"They'll have a great free place to stay, conveniently close by."
I laugh. "That is convenient."
He pulls away, and kneels in the sand. "Alyssa Marie Harrington, will you marry me in Italy?"
"I will."
He stands and pulls me in for a kiss. It's not soft but demanding, and I melt into him. My body knows his now, it knows when to submit and to surrender.
"Hmm." The noise comes from the back of his throat. "I've just noticed it's pretty dark out here."
"You just noticed that."
"Mhmm."
He runs his hands up my sides. "In fact, I think it's so dark that no one will notice two people in the water."
I nod slowly. "You're probably right. Too bad we're not dressed for swimming."
His laugh rings out across the beach. "You say that like it's a problem."
"Isn't it?"
He presses his lips to my ear. "Get undressed."
I smile at him. "Yes, Sir."
