"God, you feel good," he rasps. "So perfect. Like you were made for me."
He starts to move, slow and deliberate. This is us taking our time, savoring every moment, every touch.
"Look at me," he murmurs, and I meet his eyes.
The intimacy of it—holding his gaze while he's inside me, while he's moving in me—makes my chest ache. This is what making love is supposed to feel like. This is what I've been missing my whole life.
"I want to marry you someday," he says again, his voice rough with emotion. "Want to make this official. Want you to be Lilliana's mom in every way that matters."
"Ask me," I whisper, even though I know it's too soon.
"Not yet." He leans down to kiss me. "But soon. When the time is right. When we've had a chance to really be together, to make sure this is what you want."
"I already know what I want."
"Then you'll still know in six months. Or a year." His thumb finds my clit, circling slowly. "But right now, I just want to make you come."
The combination of his words, his touch, the slow drag of him inside me—it's too much. I tip over the edge with a soft cry, clenching around him, and he follows seconds later with a groan.
We stay like that for a long moment, just breathing together, hearts racing in sync.
"Best way to wake up," I whisper.
He laughs and kisses me. "Agreed."
Around noon, Henry's phone rings. His parents, saying they're finally able to make the drive up now that the roads are clear. They'll be here in two hours to pick up Lilliana for that belated Christmas visit.
"They're going to meet me," I say, nervous. "As your girlfriend."
"Is that okay?" Henry asks, pulling me aside while Lilliana plays with her Legos.
"Yes, just... nervous. What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm too young, or not good enough?"
"Stop." He cups my face. "They're going to love you. My mom's been not-so-subtly hinting that I should ask you out for weeks."
"Really?"
"Really. She met you once and decided you were perfect for us." He grins. "She's very perceptive."
When his parents arrive, I'm a bundle of nerves despite Henry's reassurances. But the moment I open the door, his mother, Jane, pulls me into a warm hug.
"Maren! It's so good to see you again." She steps back and looks between Henry and me with a knowing smile. "So. You two finally figured it out?"
Henry's father, Robert, laughs. "Jane's been taking bets on when you'd make a move. She said Christmas. I said New Year's. Looks like she wins."
"You were betting on us?" Henry sounds appalled.
"Of course we were," Jane says, as if this is obvious. "It was clear you two were perfect for each other from the start. I'm just glad you finally did something about it."
She pulls Henry aside and I hear her whisper, "She's lovely. Don't mess this up."
"I won't, Mom."
"Good. Because that girl looks at you like you hung the moon, and Lilliana adores her. If you let her get away, I'll disown you." She sounds like she’s only half joking.
I hide my smile and help Robert carry Lilliana's bags to their car for her Christmas holiday sleepover.
"He loves you, you know," Robert says quietly. "My son. I haven't seen him this happy in... well, ever, really. Thank you for that."
