"I missed you last night," I growl, my hands digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. "I couldn't fucking sleep because I didn't have your taste in my mouth and your body tucked up against mine. I didn't have your juices dripping down my balls or your nails in my skin." I nip her throat, slamming her down on me again and again. She bounces with every thrust, moaning my name and clawing at my shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you like this every damn day for the rest of my life if you marry me."
"Yes!" she shouts, and I'm not sure if she's saying yes to marrying me or yes to the idea of fucking me like this every day forever, but she isn't saying no, and right now, that's all that matters.
I fuck her until my legs feel like they're going to give out. Until all I feel is her and the way she clenches around me. She's perfect, so goddamn perfect.
"Come for me, sweetness," I whisper, slipping one hand behind her to play with her asshole. As soon as I touch that entrance, arousal floods between her legs, drenching me. She fucking loves it. "I need to feel you squeezing the fuck out of my cock right now."
"Lincoln," she gasps.
I press my thumb against her asshole, just hard enough for her to feel me there, and then she's coming again, her body convulsing as waves wrack her.
"I love you! I love you!"
Something about hearing her shouting those three words while she's mid-orgasm does it for me. I wrap one hand around her throat, gently choking her as I pound into her, fucking herlike a madman until she's screaming her way through another powerful orgasm, tears leaking down her cheeks.
"Lilah!" I roar, planting myself deep as she tips me over the edge with her. I come hard, spilling into her again and again.
Somehow, I manage to spin us and then slide down the wall with my dick still inside her, collapsing. She falls forward against me, panting into my throat and trembling.
"You okay, sweetness?"
"Ask me tomorrow," she mumbles. "I can't feel my body right now."
I just chuckle and hold her tighter, happier than I think I've ever been.
"Did you mean it?" she asks after a moment. "You really want to marry me?"
I tip her head back, making sure her eyes are on me. "I've never meant anything more, little bookworm." I shift to the side, shoving my hand into my pocket to pull out the ring. I hold it out to her. "I even bought you this."
Her eyes go wide with awe, her bottom lip quivering. She reaches out a shaking hand, one finger stroking across the diamond. "It's so beautiful."
It doesn't even compare to the woman in my arms, but it's the only ring I found that even comes close to being worthy to rest around her finger. It's a three-carat Marquise diamond on a platinum band.
"Marry me," I whisper. Part of me wants to just slip it on her finger and tell her that she already said yes, so she can't take it back now. But the other part wants to hear her say it again. I want her to be completely lucid when she agrees, so I can live on that memory for the next six decades.
"Yes," she says without hesitation, and then bites her lip. "But I have conditions."
"Name them," I growl, ready to give her anything she wants.
"If you buy the building, your name has to go on the deed, too," she whispers. "And I get to pay for some of it. I don't have enough to pay for the whole thing, but I can at least pay a portion."
Everything in me wants to object. I want to do this for her, help make all her dreams come true, but I swallow the objection back because I know her. And I know how important her independence is to her. Even before Jasmine warned me, I saw it.
She'll never be satisfied with letting me do everything for her. If she wanted easy, she would have called her dad as soon as I showed up. If she wanted to be taken care of, she'd be living a pampered life instead of running this place herself.
She needs independence and a partner who will love her for who she is, not one who wants to sweep in and make her less. Shedeservesa partner who celebrates her and every facet of her personality, not one who tries to fit her into a box never meant to contain someone like her. I can be that man for her. Iwillbe that for her, because there isn't a goddamn thing wrong with her. And hell will freeze over before I let another man love her the way she deserves. Every loud, messy, beautiful piece of her is mine.
"I can agree to that," I whisper, brushing my lips across her forehead.
She melts against me, relief shining in her eyes before she rests her head against my chest, all soft and content.
"You really called your dad, huh?" I ask, running my fingers down her back.
"I did," she whispers. "Are you mad about it?"
"Hell no, sweetness."
"For a minute today, I thought you might be ghosting me."
