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I’d ended up fucking Ethan up against the door at first, but like so many times we came together, I always felt an undeniable need to see his eyes when he came, so I’d pulled out of him long enough to maneuver him onto his back on the floor. He’d groaned in delight as I’d slid back into him, my bare cock nailing his prostate on the first glide. But I hadn’t let him come like he’d wanted. No, I had to take full advantage of the fact that Lucy was out of the house.
Which meant making my lover scream as loud and as often as possible.
So I’d spent the better part of an hour taking him right up to the edge, but refusing to send him over. And now he was clinging to me like nothing else existed in his world but me.
That was always the way of things when we made love. The world continued on around us, but in those moments it was just me and him in our perfect little bubble.
“Love you,” I whispered against his lips as I slowly fucked in and out of him. He was trembling in my arms as the orgasm began to build in intensity once again. Sweat covered his skin. Mine too, for that matter.
It had taken the better part of a month for all of Ethan’s bruises to completely heal. I’d already known him to be beautiful, but finally seeing his body without the proof of everything he’d been through had been freeing for me in more ways than it probably had been for him. But the best part was the transformation that had happened after the bruises faded.
Because that was when his inner wounds had begun to heal.
He’d started to put on weight in recent months, despite the stress he’d been under with the trials. More importantly, he hadn’t obsessed over his weight or any of the things that had set Eric off in the past. Ethan turned out to be a little bit of a slob when it came to leaving his clothes on the floor. He’d panicked the first time he’d found me cleaning up his clothes off the bathroom floor, but I’d quickly and easily dissuaded him of the notion that it bothered me by treating him to one of our infamous shower trysts. And nothing pleased me more then to find my man sitting on the couch eating potato chips. No, he didn’t go crazy and eat the whole bag. He ate to his heart’s content and that was it. Sometimes he ate healthy, other times not so much. He often joined me for my morning run, but if he had something else to do, he didn’t stress about it and he no longer worried that I would accuse him of slacking off.
My Ethan had finally gotten free and I was loving watching every moment of him rediscovering himself.
Sex with Ethan was something I couldn’t even describe with words. To say it got better and better seemed an impossible thing, but somehow it did. He was both giving in bed and demanding too. He took just as he gave…with everything he was. And he’d never pressured me for more than I was ready for. Even when I’d broached the subject of him fucking me for the first time, he’d told me it was something I needed to choose for myself and he would be there either way. While I’d trusted Ethan implicitly, it had taken me longer than I would have liked to accept giving up that much control. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, I just didn’t know how. But it had finally happened a few months ago and while the experience had been incredible, my favorite times with Ethan were the ones where I got to watch him come apart in my arms. Where I got to drive him to that place where he was completely free and untouched. It was something only I could give him and that made it all the more meaningful to me.
“You need to come, baby?” I asked as I sipped at his lips.
Ethan only managed a nod. His breaths were coming in heavy pants as he clung to me, moving his hands to wrap them around the backs of my arms. His legs locked around my lower back as he lifted his ass to force me deeper inside of him.
“I love you, Cain,” he managed to get out between kisses.
“Enough to marry me?” I asked softly.
Ethan stilled at that, his eyes going wide. Then a small smile spread across his mouth. “Is that you asking me?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I murmured as I brushed my mouth over his.
“You realize we’ll have to come up with a different story to tell my family about how you proposed, right?”
