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I keep my eyes on the round table, which is not moving, though the wind is what you’d expect at the beach. Music begins to play. It’s “Better Man” by Pearl Jam, but I can’t figure out where it comes from. When I turn my attention back to Noah, he’s not in front of me. Not standing up in front of me, that is.
I tilt my head down. He’s on one knee, and we’ve garnered an audience of beach walkers.
But I tune everyone out, because this is us, Noah and Ashton.
“Ashton Brooks, I knew the minute my hand touched yours for the first time, we were meant to be something great. We’re everything that is right in this world. In the last six months, you’ve shown me what being truly happy looks like. Life won’t always be easy. We’ll fight, we’ll disagree, but we’ll always find our way back to one another. And with you by my side, I’ll smile when I fall asleep next to you, and I’ll continue to smile when I wake up to you every morning in my arms. You’re mine, and the only thing that is truly right in my life. I want nothing more than to call you my husband, and to be the man you deserve every day of your life. Please marry me.”
I fall to my knees in front of him. There’s only one answer to his question.
“Yes.”
* * *
“CanI handcuff you to the bed when we’re back at the house?” he asks, walking hand in hand after our beachside dinner. I look at the thin silver band he’s given me as a sign of our engagement.
I stop him as the waves begin crashing at my feet. “Babe, after that fucking romantic proposal with flowers, wine, and a dinner, you can do anything you choose to me.”
He lets loose a slight snicker. “Well, thanks to someone’s impatience, we ended up with pizza instead of fettucine Alfredo,” he explains, as if the night was less perfect.
“You listen good, future husband of mine, pizza or pasta, nothing will ever ruin this night. It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. So, let’s hurry up so you can restrain me.”
We run hand and hand on the sand to the back deck of the house. He pushes me up against the back door, and I’m already turned on. “I’m going to suck that dick so hard. I’m going to stick my cock in your mouth until you drink me dry. And just think, we get to do this for the rest of our lives.”
His lips lick down my cheeks, my neck, and back up to my mouth. “But, I think we should take this inside, don’t you?” he asks of me. I’m so breathless that I barely nod my head.
He tugs me by the waist of my track pants. “Honey, you and these track pants. I fucking swear no one wears them like you do.”
“Easy access, right?”
“Yeah, something like that.” He moves my hands to his jeans. “Do you want to do the honors and unleash me, or would you rather me unbutton my jeans?”
“Oh, I think I need to do it myself, and I’ll be very gentle,” I tease, starting with his belt buckle, and then the button of his jeans. I slide them down, and his beautiful cock pops out. I fall to my knees to take it. “If I make you come, and I top, how will that work with the handcuffs?”
“Oh, don’t worry your sweet and pretty head over it, baby. I have it figured out.”
I don’t start with the tip, like I usually do. I begin to deep throat him.
His fingers dig into my scalp. I can’t wait to taste him. And my speed increases. “Ho-ly fu-uck,” he moans, his fingernails moving to my back, and I love the pain. “I’m going to lose it in your mouth, baby. I’m going to—” Noah is quiet when he lets go in my mouth, and just as promised, I drink him down.
I stand, and he falls against the back of the couch. “You okay, baby?” I ask.
“I love your mouth. That’s all.” He stays where he sits for a couple of seconds. “You stay by the chair, completely naked.”
I’d thought we’d be on the bed, but this works too. He comes back with lube, and handcuffs. “Now who’s going to be a bossy bottom tonight as I ride your cock?”
I tilt my head down, and pre-cum is leaking from the tip. “Oh, I may not last that long, baby.”
I turn around, and he cuffs my hands behind my back. He pushes me into the same type of chairs we have at home. I hate them in the loft, because they don’t match the aesthetic, but for what he wants to do to me, yeah, maybe we should keep them after all.
“Why haven’t we done this at home?” I ask.
“Because we have company over who sits on the chairs? Maybe we should keep one and move it to our bedroom solely for sex.”
“Not opposed to it,” I answer.
He straddles my waist, my cock so hard, ready to be inside of him. His hands reach my face, and our eyes stay on one another. “Thank you for saying yes.”
“I told you I would say yes when you asked me.” He smiles when my words hit him.
