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I’m teetering on the edge, sweet torture and perfect pleasure. I never want it to end, but I also need to come inside of her; need it like my next breath. More.
One more hard thrust, and she explodes, screaming my name. I feel her muscles tense and release around me, her sweet pussy sucking me deeper, deeper still. My dick is aching and swollen, but I keep fucking into her, prolonging her pleasure as long as I can.
When I can’t take anymore, my hips stutter as I bury my fat cock as deep as the fucker can possibly go. I swell inside her and pour wave after wave of cum, coating her pussy again and again.
“Fuck, Fawn. Yes, beautiful.” I groan as she milks the last drops from my dick.
I set her legs down and fall next to her, turning her so we’re facing each other. We’re both covered in sweat and panting. I can’t help myself; I pull her closer, crashing my mouth down on hers in a wild and desperate kiss, stealing the air right out of her lungs. She has to pull away from me to catch her breath, and only then do I breathe again.
I turn so I’m on my back, then drape Fawn’s limp body over mine so I can rub her back.
“God, I love you, Fawn,” I whisper.
“Love you, too,” she says back, her voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
“Can’t wait to start every day like this.”
“With a proposal?” Fawn peers up at me, a twinkle in her blue eyes.
“And raunchy sex,” I tell her with a straight face.
She giggles, the sound filling up my heart and soul. “You sure you’re up for the challenge?”
I growl and flip her on her back, hovering over her with a hand on either side of her head. “Yes, shortcake. And I can’t wait to prove it to you.”
EIGHT
Jensen
Five Years Later…
“I’ll get it!”I say when I walk into the house to see Fawn trying to turn the dresser onto its side so she can sand it.
She never waits for me, and I love how self-sufficient she is. I just wish she remembered that she was six months pregnant and maybe shouldn’t be lifting such heavy things right now.
“Oh, I can get it,” Fawn says, waving me off, and I practically sprint over to her side to stop her before she can try.
“Let me help you out, baby. You’re carrying enough for me,” I say, wrapping my arms around her and rubbing her swollen stomach.
She smiles up at me, and I bend down, placing a sweet kiss on her lips before I move to flip the dresser for her.
“This is coming along great,” I comment, and she preens under the praise.
“I know, right? I almost don’t want to sell it. I think it would look cute in a nursery.”
“Then keep it,” I tell her as I finish settling it on its side.
“I already had someone buy it.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Fawn is so damn talented. After our quick engagement and wedding, I started helping her find pieces to restore. That turned into me making pieces for her or following her around flea markets and garage sales while she looked.
Five years later, and she has her own restoration business here in town. She still sells her projects online, and she’s been busier than ever with it.
We got married four years ago, on our first anniversary. I knew that I wanted to be with her, to spar with her, for the rest of my life, and I’m lucky enough that Fawn agreed.
We were married here in town, in a small ceremony. Irene was our officiant. It seemed only fitting since she was the matchmaker that set us up in the first place. The two of us might still be pretending to hate each other if it weren’t for her.
