I love telling him what I want, and I love how he reacts to it. He’s not scared when I take charge. In fact, he loves it. The wayhis eyes dilate when I tell him to fuck me? Or earlier, when I told him to feed me his cock? That’s a rush I never thought I’d want.
But not only do I want it, I've become addicted to it.
I adjust my angle, allowing my free hand to cup his balls as I work him in my mouth. I feel his body tense underneath me, signaling that I am seconds away from making this man lose his mind.
“Gabrielle…fuck…I’m about to?—”
I don’t falter. I don’t even pretend to let up. Instead I take him farther, opening my throat so his hips are hitting my face as I feel him empty himself into me. The sounds he’s making are earth shattering, his hands holding onto my head like he needs me to keep him grounded.
“Goddammit woman,” he moans, lifting my head as I swallow the last drop of his cum. “Get up here.”
He pulls me up to him, fluids and sweat be damned, and holds me to his chest like I might disappear. Sure, that might’ve been my default a few months ago. But now? Now I’m wondering if I’m ever going to leave.
“Have I told you how perfect you are?”
“You’ve alluded to it.”
He kisses my forehead before rolling us to our sides, my leg naturally wrapping around his as he holds me in his arms.
“How was your day?”
I smile, because of course we could just share an intensely intimate moment, then easily fall back into the mundane seconds later. But even talking about things as boring as our days, it’s still special because I’m doing it with him. Funny how a person can feel that way when she knows her partner actually listens and cares.
“Fine. A little slow for the weekend, but honestly, I didn’t mind. I had a ton of things to catch up on, so I was able to closeright on time and then head back to my apartment to grab things for tonight and tomorrow because I forgot to this morning.”
“I hate that, you know.”
“Hate what?”
“You going back and forth.”
“I know, but it’s easier right now,” I remind him. “My apartment is two miles from the bakery, and I hate navigating traffic here each morning. Especially during the week.”
“I know,” he pouts…but just as quickly as his lip juts out, I watch his eyes get wide. “Wait. I have an idea.”
“Why do I feel slightly nervous?”
“Don’t be,” he says. “What if I buy you a house?”
I know we’re each coming down off of sexual highs, but the man isn’t thinking straight. “You want to buy me a house?”
“Yes. But for us,” he says with all the conviction in the world. “For you, me, and Tiny Tot. For our family.”
Every time he calls the baby “Tiny Tot” my heart flutters just a little. And by just a little, I mean a lot. But I need to ignore the flutter to let the father of my child know that right now, he’s being insane. Romantic, but insane.
“Maddox…”
“Gabrielle…”
I had to know it was coming, but I’m not backing down. I’m so determined to be taken seriously about this that I sit up to have this conversation—because serious conversations can’t happen mid-cuddle.
“I love that you want to do that for us. But, is it practical? Where would we live? Are you just paying for it? Am I contributing at all? There’s a lot to think about. Also, I know it doesn’t feel like it—probably because we did things all out of order—but this is new. We’re new. Who moves in with their significant other, or buys a house with that person, when they haven’t even been dating for two months?”
“I don’t know? My Aunt Jane moved in with my Aunt Becky after two dates.”
“I’m being serious Maddox.”
“So am I. They’re the happiest couple I know.”
