The entire house was nonslip, and Vanya and I had been testing out each room repeatedly over the last year since we’d moved in. The place was perfect—and it finally felt like ours.
Not just mine. Not just his.
There was an adjustment period, of course, where I wanted to throttle him some days because in spite of the fact that I literally had no eyes, he tended to forget I couldn’t see his fucking house shoes in the middle of the living room floor.
But he was good about everything else. He understood everything had to have a place. That if I wanted to live in my own home without struggle, wecouldn’t compromise. And he never made me feel like shit about it.
He just embraced me: all of me. Everything I was.
Every side of me—even the ones that probably didn’t deserve to be loved as hard as he loved me.
And when moments like this happened, where I needed to be overwhelmed by his tongue, his hands, his cock—where I needed to feel pleasure and pain—he gave that to me.
“I don’t—uhg,” I gasped, my back arching, “I don’t think I sh-should attend my retirement—oh god—with my ass full of come.”
“Mm, I think is exactly how your retirement should go. Pretty cheeks painted red.” He slapped my ass hard, sending sparks of ecstasy through me. “Asshole sloppy from me.” He gripped my hair hard and laid a wet, messy kiss against the back of my neck. “Bruise on your nipples.” His free hand reminded me of just how much attention he’d paid that area right after I stepped out of the shower.
“Vanya,” I gasped. I knew I was facing the bathroom mirror, and I couldn’t help but wonder if we looked as good together as we felt. I nearly asked him, but the next thrust hit my prostate, and words became impossible. He knew the sound of that gasp and quickly began to hammer his dick into me so hard, I couldn’t breathe.
I was going to come. I was going to let go untouched, entirely his.
Exactly the way I wanted to be.
Bowing my head, I had just enough strength tofuck back on his cock once—only once—but that was all I needed. My orgasm coursed through my body, my dick kicking hard as it spilled all over the counter in front of me. My knuckles ached from how hard I was gripping the marble, and for a moment, I couldn’t fill my lungs with air.
“My love, my pretty little goalie,” he murmured. He took me into his arms, fucking deep in me, chasing his own climax as I sagged helplessly in his arms.
I was bruised and fucked out and loved beyond all measure. I had no idea what to do with this feeling in my chest.
“Marry me,” I blurted.
His entire body froze, and then he fucked into me once very hard, and I felt his spill. His fingers spasmed on my hips, then suddenly, his arms came around me, and he gathered me against his chest.
His dick was still pulsing inside me as he said against my ear, ragged and unsure, “You serious? Not just fucking talk?”
I turned my head, searched for his lips, and found them. The kiss he gave me was awkward and uncoordinated, and maybe also the best kiss of my life.
It was a kiss that meant yes.
A kiss that meant forever.
A kiss that meant I never want to live without you.
“I mean it,” I whispered.
He pulled out of me with a squelch and turned me in his arms, pressing my sore, aching ass to thecounter as he lifted me. My legs went around his waist, and then he had me propped up at the edge of the sink, his hands cupping my face.
“I amsoin love,” he said very softly. He repeated himself in Russian—words I was just starting to understand. “I say yes, of course. Always yes. Was wanting to ask you, but I didn’t think you wanted that.”
“To marry the love of my life?” I asked, brows lifting.
“It seemed…” I heard him swallow, the sound catching in his throat. His fingers were restless against the sides of my jaw, a nervous tic I hoped he never got rid of. “There are a lot of things you don’t like. And I could live like this—as we are—forever. But I have wanted. I still want.”
“Not every normal couples thing is for me. Or us,” I agreed. “But making you my husband?” I couldn’t help a small laugh as I dipped my head forward and nuzzled him with my nose. “That is the only future I want.”
“Then I am yours. But I always have been, pretty goalie.”
“Not going to be a goalie much longer,” I reminded him.
