“Fuck,” he gasped. His fingers trembled as he worked at my sweats until he got them down past my hips. My cock sprang free, leaking at the tip as he stroked me with a firm, heavy touch, just the way I liked.
Shuffling back, I yanked at the elastic waistband of his own joggers until his cock was poking through the slit in his boxers. I lifted, hovering over his thighs as I rocked my dick against his.
“Fuck. Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “I’m not going to last.”
“I don’t want you to last. I want you to show me how much you want me. I want to see you lose it when I touch you.I want you to make a fucking mess of me.” I hadn’t been able to do this yet. I’d never been strong enough, but right now, I was. I closed my hand around us both and squeezed. “Fuck my cock.”
He wasn’t used to hearing those words from my lips, and his face bloomed red, his dick kicking against my hand as he began to use my body to thrust against his. He sped up his motions as I picked up speed, and I could feel pleasure sparking under my skin like fireworks.
“Baby, baby. Ohgod.” His voice was thready and weak.
I tried to tighten my grip, but my fingers were starting to lose control. The connection between my brain and limbs would always be difficult, but why did it have to be now?
Before I could ask, Nash’s hand closed around mine, and he caught my gaze, holding it as his grip tightened. “Together,” he murmured.
Heat raced up my spine. Where it might have felt like a failure before, now it felt like a triumph. I was strong on my own, but he filled in the little gaps when I needed him to. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me.
“Kiss me,” I begged.
His free hand curled around the back of my neck, and as his hand sped up mine, his tongue dipped into my mouth, matching the rhythm on our cocks. The edges of my vision went white and my breath stuttered as I felt myself reach the edge.
And between two heavy breaths, I let go. He caught my cry in his mouth, muffling it with his tongue, his arm moving until I felt his cock erupt. His cum pooled between us, the two of us making a mess, and I rocked into it until the last vestiges of my orgasm began to fade.
The sticky fluid didn’t feel good, but collapsing on his chest did. My limbs were weak, but my heart was beating strong, and I could feel his matching the pace of mine as we held each other.
“I want to get married again,” I told him.
He stiffened. “To me?”
I turned my head and bit his nipple hard enough to make him yelp. “Yes. To you.” Lifting my head, I met his gaze. “Our family deserves to be there to see it. And I want to write our own vows. I want this to be something for us. The right way.”
His hand lifted and curled around the side of my jaw, and he pulled me in for another kiss. “I think we should do it on the beach where we had our honeymoon.”
I knocked my forehead against his. It felt wrong to be this happy. It felt terrifying to know I was this safe. One wrong move, one wrong day, and I could lose it all. But as I lay there, held by Nash, feeling our hearts beating together, I realized all of it had been worth the risk.
Worth the pain.
Worth everything we went through to get here.
And I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
EPILOGUE
Nash
Six Months Later
The delicious aromas of roasted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. Grandma would be proud if she knew every dish I was serving today was based off her recipes. The thought that she was still present like that made me warm inside.
Then again, I was in a grateful mood anyway lately. Six months had passed in a blur of recovery and change, of adjustments, healing, and realizations. There had been hard days and even worse days, but slowly, they had transformed into good days and even better days.
Forest and I had found our rhythm, truly merging our lives in every way. The marriage that had started as a necessary tool to get him insurance had become everything I could’ve ever hoped for in a relationship.
I glanced over at Forest, who was setting the table, his hands steady and sure as he laid out the plates and silverware. The tremors that used to plague him had diminished significantlythanks to his new medication regimen and the lifestyle changes we had implemented.
Watching him move with confidence filled my heart with pride and gratitude. There would be hard days again for sure, but today wasn’t one of them. And each and every good day was one to be grateful for.
“Looking good, babe,” I called out, giving him an appreciative wink. “I think this might be your best table setting yet.”
