"I missed you," I said, and I had even though we had only been apart a day.
His fingers tightened on my leg. "But I'm going to make sure you never forget why you came back."
The promise in those words made me ache with anticipation.
When we reached the cabin, I started to open my door, but he was already around the truck, lifting me into his arms.
"Neil, I can walk."
"I know you can, but you don’t have to." He kicked the door open and carried me inside.
This was what I'd been missing in Boston. Not just his presence, but this feeling of being wanted so completely that practical considerations didn't matter.
He set me on my feet in the bedroom, and for a moment we just looked at each other.
"I thought you were gone," he said. "Thought I'd never get to touch you again."
"I'm here." I reached for him, needing to close the distance. "I'm yours. I'm not going anywhere."
That broke whatever restraint he'd been holding. He kissed me with an intensity that made my knees weak, backing me against the bedroom door. His hands were everywhere, relearning the shape of me, claiming what he'd thought he'd lost.
"Need you," he growled against my mouth. "Need to be inside you. Need to know you're real."
"Then take me. I'm real. I'm here."
He hiked up my skirt with impatient hands, his fingers finding me already wet for him. The evidence of my desire made him groan.
"So ready for me. My good girl, already soaked and I've barely touched you."
"I've been thinking about this since I left. About you. About how stupid I was to walk away."
"You're never walking away again." He freed himself from his jeans, the thick length of him making my mouth water. "You're staying right here where you belong."
He lifted me easily, positioning me against the door, and then he was pushing inside with one smooth thrust that made us both gasp. My body needed a moment to adjust to his size.
"Fuck, you're tight." His voice was strained, muscles rigid as he held still. "You were made to take my cock."
"I was," I breathed, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Made for you. Only you."
He moved, each thrust deliberate and claiming. The angle pressed him deep, hitting places that made me see stars.
"Mine," he growled with each movement. "Say it."
"Yours. Always yours."
"Never leaving me again."
"Never. I promise."
The emotion of it hit me suddenly. The fear I'd carried, the mistake I'd almost made permanent, the gift of his forgiveness. Tears started flowing even as pleasure built.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed against his neck. "I'm so sorry I left."
"I know, baby. I know." He kissed away my tears, his rhythm never faltering. "But you came back. That's what matters. You chose me. Chose us."
"I'll always choose you."
"Good. Because I'm keeping you. Forever. No take backs." He shifted the angle, grinding against me in a way that made coherent thought impossible. "You're going to be my wife. Mother of my children. The woman I wake up to every morning for the rest of my life."
