"Don't stop."
He didn't.
His mouth traced down my jaw, my neck, finding the spot just below my ear that always made me shiver. I tilted my head to give him better access, my fingers threading through his hair, holding him there.
We stumbled down the hallway together, shedding layers as we went. My jacket hit the floor somewhere near the bathroom. His shirt followed, buttons forgotten, pulled over his head instead. By the time we reached the bedroom door, I was down to my bra, and he was reaching for the clasp with fingers that knew exactly where to find it.
The door clicked shut behind us. Brian guided me backward until my legs hit the mattress, and then we went down together. His weight pressed me into the sheets.
I ran my hands up his back, feeling the muscles shift beneath warm skin. He was solid, fullypresent—every part of him focused entirely on me. His mouth found mine again, the kiss deeper now, hungrier. I could feel his heartbeat against me, racing with mine.
"I love you," he murmured against my lips. "My fiancée."
"Say it again."
"Fiancée." He kissed my jaw. "My fiancée." My collarbone. "The woman I'm going to marry." The curve of my shoulder.
I arched into him, pulling him closer, needing more contact. His hands traced down my sides, unhooking, unzipping, peeling away the last barriers between us until there was nothing between us.
We knew each other's bodies by now—knew the rhythms and the preferences, the spots that made each other gasp. But tonight felt different. Charged with something new entirely. Every touch carried the weight of promise, offorever.
Brian's mouth traveled lower, tracing a path across my stomach. My fingers twisted in the sheets as heat pooled low and urgent. I stopped thinking about anything except his hands, his mouth, the way he made me feel like I was the center of his entire universe.
"Brian—" His name came out breathless, desperate.
He understood. He always understood.
He moved back up my body, settling between my thighs, and when our eyes met, I saw everything I felt reflected back at me. Love. Want. A future opening up before us, full of mornings like this one.
He pressed forward, and I gasped at the familiar fullness, my legs wrapping around him to pull him deeper. For amoment, neither of us moved—just breathed together, foreheads touching, adjusting to the closeness.
Then he began to move, slow at first, drawing out every sensation. I matched his rhythm, my hips rising to meet each thrust. The pleasure built gradually, waves lapping higher and higher against the shore.
"God, Ava." His voice was strained, his control slipping. "You feel?—"
The pace quickened. His hand slid between us, finding the spot that made me cry out, and suddenly I was right at the edge, teetering on the brink of something overwhelming.
I fell first, gasping, my fingers digging into his back. Brian followed immediately, his hips stuttering, a rough sound caught in his throat as he collapsed against me.
We stayed wrapped together as our breathing slowed, neither of us willing to break the connection. His weight on top of me was grounding, real. A reminder that this wasn't a dream.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so my head rested against him. His heart hammered beneath my ear, gradually settling into something steadier.
"So," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "That's what engaged feels like."
I laughed, the sound startled out of me. "Is it different?"
"Better." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Everything feels better now."
I couldn't argue with that.
Morning light slipped through the curtains, soft and golden. We should have been sleeping—we'd both just finished long shifts—but I couldn't close my eyes. Couldn't stop feeling the weight of the ring on my finger, the promise of what it meant.
"Torres," I murmured.
"Can't call me that anymore."
I lifted my head to look at him. "Why not?"
