Page 48 of George’s Big Day

“Why stop?” His voice was silky and soft.

“Pull these off.”

Freeing me from my pants and underwear, he stared at me. “You have no idea how sexy you are.”

As long as he thought so. “Stand up,” I ordered him. “Take off your clothes.”

He did as I demanded, and I watched him strip as I moved up on the bed, to the pillows, and propped two behind my head.

My fiancé was beautiful, inside and out, but all that smooth, tawny skin over long, sleek muscles was a sight to behold.

“I love that you look at me like I’m the one who’s perfect,” he said, getting a packet of lube from his suit jacket. He then got on the end of the bed and crawled up to me, finally straddling my hips.

“You are perfect,” I said gruffly, watching as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and coated my cock, stroking me from head to balls, making my breath catch.

“You’re confused, but that’s okay,” he soothed me, lifting up, notching my already leaking head against his crease, pressing slowly down, taking me inside. “My beautiful man.”

“Grab hold of your cock,” I demanded. “Use what’s left on your hand to slick it up.”

He followed directions and then stopped because he knew what I really wanted, knew what we did in our bed at home, and placed both hands on my chest, leaning forward and then pressing back, levering down further, sinking over me.

I worked his slippery cock, my grip tight, as I moved at the same time he did, the same rhythm of his rise and fall, the back and forth of his rocking until he was impaled on my length and I was buried in his body.

“Fuck,” I groaned because he felt so good. “Kiss me now.”

He melted over me, boneless, his tongue rubbing over mine, his hands on my shoulders, his muscles clenched around my cock.

Pushing up, needing to move, to thrust, I broke the kiss, wrapped him in my arms, and rolled him to his back, pinning him under me, driving deep.

“Oh, George, please,” he pleaded loudly, slipping his hands under the headboard, wrapping his legs around my hips.

I kissed him hard, devouring his mouth, sucking on his tongue, pumping slowly into him, each stroke deeper than the last.

He turned his head, panting as I unwrapped his legs and lifted one, then the other up to my shoulders, curling forward, shifting my angle, loving the pleading as he came apart under me.

“This,” he rasped as he tried to arch up against me, to meet my thrusts. “For the rest of my life.”

“Never getting rid of me,” I swore, pounding inside him. “You’re done.”

“Yes,” he croaked, his voice going out on him as he went rigid beneath me, muscles clenched, the pressure so good as he came on my abdomen. “All yours.”

I was a heartbeat behind him, the orgasm rushing through me, and I didn’t stop, couldn’t, mindless of everything but that most primal urge to claim what was mine.

It took a bit for my world to refocus, to tilt back and make sense again. When it did, I could only stare at the gorgeous man panting beneath me.

“What?”

I shook my head.

“What’s with the look?”

But I couldn’t say.

He took several deep breaths, then reached up and put his hands on my face. “Tell me.”

“I… I really love you.”

Filthy chuckle then. “Just now figured that out, did you?”