The head of his cock nudges against me, and then he pushes inside in a single, brutal stroke that makes me cry out. My back slams against the door, but it feels so damn good.
He just keeps going, filling me so completely I feel him everywhere.
"Again," he demands, his voice a growl.
"I love you," I gasp. I do. I love him so much it's terrifying. It's all the things I never let myself dream I could have, wrapped up in three little words that somehow feel like they're wrecking and saving me at the same damn time.
His hand comes up to my throat, not quite squeezing, just holding me there so I can't look away from him as he fucks me hard and deep. My head thumps against the closet door with every thrust.
He drops his forehead to mine. "You're mine, Serena."
"Always," I whisper. It's not a promise. It's surrender—to him,to this,to us.
He fucks me like he's trying to repair every broken thing inside me, slamming into me so hard the mop buckets clatter on their racks, and paint cans rattle on the shelf.
His hand never leaves my throat, not really. Sometimes his palm slides up to cradle my jaw, sometimes it drops down to hook my knee higher, but always he's holding on, as if he's afraid I'll vanish if he lets go.
I can barely breathe, but I don't want to. I don't want anything but him, breaking me open and putting me back together at the same time.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine, greedy, unblinking, like he's trying to memorize every second.
I don't even realize I'm crying until he wipes a tear from my cheek. I'm not sad, though. I'm whole in a way I didn't know was possible.
He fucks me until my voice breaks and my body goes limp, so wrung out that he's the only thing holding me up. Even then, he keeps going, refusing to relent until I come apart again, sobbing into his neck from the sheer force of it.
When he finally lets go, he bites my shoulder to keep from shouting, shudders wracking his whole body. He buries his face in my hair, his breath hot and frantic against my ear.
"I love you," I whisper one more time.
"I already knew you did," he breathes. "You told me in your sleep."
"Really?"
He nods, his head bumping mine. "I was going fucking crazy, waiting for you to say it when you were conscious."
Guilt pricks at me. "I should have said it back last night."
He tips my head back, meeting my gaze, his expression soft and somber. "No regrets, baby. I don't have any."
"None?"
"None."
"Not even not asking me to marry you before you told the whole world that I'm your future wife?"
His lips curve into my favorite panty-melting smirk before he kisses me again. "I was hedged my bets."
I melt against him, my body shaking with laughter. "You're an absolute menace."
"Yeah, but I'm your menace."
I smile against his shoulder, my heart light and full in a way it's never been. "Yeah," I whisper, burrowing into him. "You are."
Chapter Twelve
Austin
"Goddamn," I mumble, coming to a dead stop in the hall outside the locker room when I see Serena standing there in my jersey, waiting for me. "A motherfucker could get used to this."
