“Jesus Christ,” I said, finally pressing him back. “That’s not fair.”
“I know how I can make it fair,” he said with a smirk as he started to undress.
His cock sprung out of his pants. I was feeling a warm rush still pulsing through my body, and this felt like the splash of hot water to make it even warmer. My pussy was still clenching from his mouth as his cock brushed up outside of me.
And maybe it was the afterglow of the orgasm; maybe it was just the certainty that this was the guy; but I no longer cared if he finished outside of me or not. I was not in my fertile part of my cycle, and after all that we’d said, even if I was, even if the worst-case scenario happened, I knew I could trust Zack. I knew he wouldn’t leave me.
I knew he was the best man for me.
I grabbed him and stroked him as he leaned forward to kiss me. He positioned himself, pushed inside, and began thrusting.
I wrapped my arms around him to hold him tight. Part of it was just the immense pleasure I felt, the feeling that I had to grab ontosomethingfor how good my body felt, but part of it was just knowing I’d finally found my man. And not just “my man” but Zack Smith, a guy who was far more than met the eye, a guy who was capable of fierce violence but in the name of those he cared about.
He was, really, a man that I…
I…
I wanted to say it before I thought it.
And as we shifted through different positions, I found myself somehow both lost in the physical sensations of the moment and in the emotional whirlwind that had taken us here. I had so long regretted ever being associated with a Bernard Boy that the very notion that one could not just enter my life but become a central figure in it seemed downright laughable. There was absolutely no way I had thought I’d be here.
But Zack was different.
Zack wasn’t a meathead biker who talked about beer and slamming pussy. Zack was a biker, yes, but he was a different kind. He showed me it was OK to be rough and hard, so long as you were soft, gentle, and thoughtful at heart.
Zack was that.
And now he was mine.
When he finally did finish—and yes, he finished inside of me, for I commanded him to do so—I brought him in for a kiss. I looked him in the eyes and thought of saying something to set up what I wanted to say. But I knew that wasn’t necessary. I just wanted to say it.
“I love you, Zack.”
Zack smiled, kissed me again, and rested his head between my head and my shoulder.
“I love you too, Justine,” he said. “But damnit, you beat me to it.”
We shared a laugh at that.
I had a feeling we’d be sharing a lot more going forward.
