“I believe you,” I gasp, and he finally adjusts his hips, pulling back until he’s almost all the way out, before sliding back in. I’m so wet he glides effortlessly, and he keeps up that pace, delivering painfully slow, yet luxurious thrusts, so deep it has me gasping. I close my eyes, my head pushing back into the pillow as his hips pick up speed.
“Good. Now tell me how much you love me.” He nips at the side of my neck before lifting his head up to move to the other side, his teeth grazing against my ear.
“I love you, Lukas.”
“Scream it,” he teases, and I giggle, the first relief of laughter hitting, loosening some of the tightness in my chest.
“I’ll wake half the city block if I scream it how I want, but I love you, Lukas. I’ve loved you my whole life so far, and plan to love you ‘til the end.”
His thrusts pick up speed, and my bed creaks with the movements. The iron headboard starts to tap the wall with each sinful roll of his hips.
“Lukas,” his name falls from my lips in a near plea. My hands tremble as I wrap them around his neck, and I move my hips as fast as I can, matching him thrust for thrust. That rush starts deep in my core, and I whimper.
He rises to his knees, and even through the darkness that surrounds us I can see the moment his lips curl in a cocky smile. With one hand sliding behind my knee, he lifts my leg up andrests it over his shoulder. One of his hands curls into a fist to rest beside my head, the other reaching up to grip the headboard.
With raw, animalistic thrusts, he fucks me. My hands fly up to grip his shoulders, fingertips digging so hard into his flesh he'll wear my scars for days.
We’re a sweaty, tangled mess as our bodies thrash together, and within minutes I feel my second orgasm sparking.
“Lukas,” I gasp, “oh my gosh.”
“Chase it, baby,” he whispers. “Come on my cock, God, I want to fucking feel you come all over me.”
His deep command sends shivers down my spine, and I come so hard I see bright stars behind my closed eyes, needing to bite down on his shoulder to stifle my scream. Lukas holds me through it, unrelenting in his thrusts, his kisses, and the words that spill from his mouth until my body falls limp.
He thrusts into me one final time, and I can feel him twitch inside me as he comes. With my legs wrapped around his core, he lowers his full weight on me, and I tighten my hold around his shoulders, wishing I could hold him to me like this forever.
Wishing that the morning didn’t bring the inevitable.
“Promise me something,” he pants, breath hot against my ear.
“Anything,” I breathe out. I’ll promise him anything.
“When this is all over, when I’m out of the military, promise me that you’ll marry me.”
My hands, which had been combing through the back of his hair, freeze, and I try to turn my head to look at him, but his face is still buried in my neck. “Is … is that a proposal?”
I can feel him shake his head no.
We’ve talked about our future hundreds of times. We know we will get married. We just never knew when. When we were teenagers, Lukas asked me what I wanted my future to be like. I didn’t really have an answer, but I told him I always knew whenI got married, I wanted a family right away. I couldn’t imagine getting married to him now and then living the next few years long distance.
“Not a proposal right now, a promise. A plan.”
He rolls to the side, propping himself up on an elbow with his other hand against my cheek, smoothing back the matted hair. “When I propose to you, there won’t be a question about it. This is just a promise.” His eyes dart back and forth across my face. “Promise that no matter how hard it gets, you’ll wait it out with me. And when I’m done, I promise to move to wherever you are, do whatever it takes, so that we can be together.”
CHAPTER 13
Lukas
Imade it eleven days into basic training before I realized the immense mistake I made. I said goodbye to Magnolia, flew back home to Copper Ridge for one last day with my family, and then flew to California the next afternoon. We arrived on base near midnight, and from the moment we were shuffled off the buses and lined up like rows of ants, the yelling has never stopped.
The drill instructors started in on us, screaming obscenities at our faces, shoving us through the lines if we didn’t walk quick enough.
We picked up our cammies, our civilian clothes no longer needed. Cell phones were handed over. Those who didn’t arrive with a shaved head were sent to the barber. They wanted our identities gone, they said. They wanted us to think as a unit, not as an individual. Every ounce of independence was stripped from us.
I get the purpose of it, in a way. I understand their meaning behind it. If we’re breakable, they want us to break during boot camp, not out in the field when lives are on the line.
Anything we experience while deployed will be a hell of a lot worse than an angry man spitting in my face.
