Her climax is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Until, that is, a few minutes later when I strip her bare and see her pussy, which is the most perfect, most beautiful pussy in the world, especially after I’ve sheathed my cock in it.
She gasps as I fill her. She’s so tight and hot that I’m almost grateful for the condom. I’ve waited so long for this—for her. My restraint is already whisper thin.
“Jesus, you’re so tight.”
Her eyes go wide, and she looks mildly worried. “Too tight?”
This pulls a chuckle from deep inside me. “No such thing.”
But, Christ, when was the last time I laughed during sex? Never. Only with Tavey.
Then I gasp a few thrusts later as her second orgasm clenches around my cock and I come.
Afterward, the room is quiet and golden with the afternoon light coming through the curtains.
She’s tucked against my side, her head on my chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns on my ribs like she’s mapping something. I have one hand inher hair and I’m staring at the ceiling thinking about how strange and right it is to finally be here.
In her space.
With her.
The dragon figurine on the dresser catches the light. It’s only then that I notice the shelf behind it, where row after row of LEGO builds sit. All the small contraptions and fidgets I built for her over the years, carefully curated and displayed.
She shifts, and I feel her chin come up to rest on my chest. I look down to find her looking at me with that particular expression—half suspicious, half delighted—that I have spent most of the past three years pretending doesn’t do something irreversible to me.
“The hour is up,” she says.
“Is it?”
“You owe me an answer.”
I hold her gaze.
She holds mine right back, patient and bright and entirely herself, waiting.
I slide my hand from her hair to the back of her head, cradling it the way I have twice now — once last night in that barndominium doorway, and once an hour ago in her hallway — and I don’t look away.
“Well,” I say quietly. “I’m hoping someday you’re going to be my wife.”
The room goes very still.
Her eyes go wide.
Not frightened.
Not overwhelmed.
Just — wide. Like she’s taking in something larger than she expected.
For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything.
Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth begin to curve. “Someday?”
“Someday,” I confirm. “No pressure. No timeline. Just… that’s where I’m going. And I wanted you to know.”
“I would like that,” she says slowly. “Assuming you’re willing to adopt Nero.”
