Page 122 of At The End Of The Day

“Ah, fuck, babe. Unh.” He pushed the back of his head into the pillow and fisted the tip of his dick, his teeth gleaming. “Shit, don’t do that again or I’ll fucking bust my nut everywhere.”

My chin bowed to look down at my cock still imbedded in his ass, pleasure coursing through my blood. Slowly raking my sight along his lean body still somewhat glistening with sweat, I gazed down into his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. His eyebrows wiggling, he tapped the bottom of the ring box side to side on his chest.

“Going to the carport and we’re….gonna get hi-itched,” he sang, changing the words. The humor fading, he rose to an elbow, the box rolling down his torso to tuck in that little crook where my lower abdomen was meshed just under his cock. Shifting his weight to one hand, the other hooked my nape. “I love you, Vin. I don’t care how it happened or why, but it’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me and I honestly can’t think of a better person to spend my forever with. Looking back on all the chicks I wasted so much time with, I honestly can’t believe I never figured it out sooner. It shoulda always been you, Vinny. You’re the only one I ever shoulda loved because you’re the only one who ever loved me right.”

Panting, my heart no longer fit in my chest, the pressure was too intense. “Oh, shit, this really is real.”

A grin slowly spread across his mouth. “Real and legit, babe.”

Groaning, I crushed my mouth to his, laid him down, and began rocking in and out, the box smashed between our pelvises. A hand tucking between us, I knocked it away, gripped his cock, and stroked with every firm but gentle thrust, our tongues dancing wildly.

I may have manipulated him at first in Georgia, but it didn’t matter now. He truly loved me, we were getting married, and I’d kill anyone who tried to get in the way.

Chapter 50

Vincent da Silva

Saturday 10.19.2019

“You think we should check on acorn?”

Dash chuckled, his hands in his pockets as we strolled down the sidewalk. “You are about as bad as I was when I first had her. She’s fine, babe. She’s spent the night at this girl’s house before.”

“But she ain’t Serpent.”

“No,” he snorted, turning to walk backwards so he could look at my face. “And that’s okay. Mary vetted her—”

I snarled and lowered my eyelids.

His lips pulled between his teeth, his nose wrinkling. “Bad example, huh?”

My thumb and finger held close together, I grumbled, “Lil’ bit.”

He stopped in front of me and held the sides of my jacket, making me stop, as well. “Babe, you gotta relax. She’s fine. Look,” he chortled, waving an arm over my shoulder in the direction of the restaurant we were leaving. “We just had a great dinner. The food was fine, the service fine.” A brow arching, his tone was a little husky as he added, “My date is fine,” and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Tilting his head to rake his sight along me, his gaze was smoldering when he gazed into my eyes once more.

My stomach knotted and adrenaline heated my blood.

“And when we get home, we’re gonna turn on some tunes and dance under these fucking amazing stars,” he said, now waving toward the sky.

The corner of my mouth tugged, some of my trepidation fading. I may be new at this parental thing, but Dash had been doing it for a few years, and he was damn good at it. If he trusted this family with Piera overnight, then I needed to just relax.

He stepped closer, his hands on my sides, our chests meshed together. “And later, maybe we’ll curl up on that sofa on your back porch and make love.”

Desire pumped my heartbeat a little faster. “Our porch.”

“Yeah, our porch. Our daughter.”

“Our life.”

“Sounds pretty rad, don’t it?”

Stretching his neck, he started to place a kiss on my lips when we heard someone approaching, making gross, mockery sounds. Breaking away, we looked behind Dash and spotted someone traipsing forward wearing a green bandana around his head.

“Oh, shit,” he grumbled, stepping to my side.

“What the fuck is he doing on our turf?”

“No clue,” he said under his breath, his palm sliding against mine. “C’mon, let’s just go. Now ain’t the time—”