Our lips and bodies meet, hot skin against hot skin, and the violence and upheaval of the day go up in smoke, insignificant in comparison to this moment.
The next time we come up for air, Mav pushes his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, licking his kiss-swollen lips, his eyes burning with unsaid words.
“Say it, beautiful,” I encourage him.
He inhales sharply, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I can wait.”
“Say it, sweetheart.”
He blinks, tears wetting his pretty lashes.
“I love you.” His voice cracks. “I love you so much.”
I flush at the sincerity of his words, hoping I can deserve them. “I know.”
“I’ve loved you for so long, and…I can’t lose you.” His tears come down in earnest. “Please tell me this isn’t some sort of kiss-off with a smile.”
“It isn’t,” I assure him.
Mav pulls away, looking deep into my eyes, as if excavating an important truth.
“Are you sure?”
I give him a warm smile, needing him to see how I feel. “Do you know how special it is to be loved by you?” I ask, hearing the wonder in my own words. “Do you think I have any control over how fast I’m falling for you?”
“No?”
“None at all,” I say, cupping his face with both hands before kissing him again. “I have zero control over this. I have zero control over any of it, but this is my favorite part.”
His response is another loud sniffle, and I grin as I thumb away his tears.
“My mother is going to love you, and my father is going to be so proud of me for finding someone like you.”
“You’re not lying?” he asks, then curses under his breath, “Don’t be so desperate, Mav.”
“It’s not desperate to verify, and to answer your question, I don’t lie.” I fix him with a serious stare. “And I especially would never lie to you.”
It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do, they hit him like a wave. First, his expression shifts. Then, the tension he’s been holding in his perfect body relaxes, as if something’s been cracked open.
“I love you so much,” he whispers again, this time more breathless than the last.
I trace his cheekbones with the tips of my fingers, nodding as I stare into his eyes.
Maverick throws his arms around me, holding me in this sea of quilts for several long moments. Finally, grinning devilishly, he rolls over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, which is so overstuffed it nearly falls off the track. He adjusts it till it sits right, then digs around until he comes up with a bottle of lube, triumphant.
One of the most beautiful men in the world lies back and lets his knees part for me. It feels like choreography, no awkward moments, no weird pauses, just me hovering over him, taking in this look on his face that says how deep his feelings for me go. My fingers, slick with lube, find their way between his cheeks.
“You still good?” I ask, stroking his tightly furled hole.
His chest rises on a sharp inhale. “Still good.”
With gentle, insistent pressure, I breach his body, kissing along his collarbone and down his chest as I work to soften him. He must’ve stretched himself in the shower, but I still take my time.
I add fingers as I drop teasing kisses on his nipples, his body arching, perfect.
“I’m ready,” he croaks, needy.
“I’m sure you are.” I grin, dropping to my side, my fingers still inside him. “But why don’t you take your pretty foreskin and dock me first?”
