make you come until you’re screaming. Nothing held back. You’re gonna let all of it out, everything you always try to keep inside. Then I’ll turn you over on your hands and knees and fuck you hard. You know how much you like it that way. I’ll give it to you until you have one orgasm after another. You’ll be drenched in sweat and hoarse from all the screaming, and you’ll still be begging for more. I’m not going to come until you’ve finally had enough. You’ll tell me when that is. But I’m expecting you to take everything I give you and give me everything in return. Then, and only then, will I let you go to sleep, with your libido purring in pleasure, as exhausted and satisfied as it’s ever been in your life.”
I gulp. I’m already hot and wet and ready for him—from nothing more than his words. “Okay.”
A smile quivers on his lips. “Does that sound good to you?”
“That sounds like a perfectly acceptable plan for the night.”
His blue-green eyes are hot. Possessive. I love to see them that way. But I also see a slight hesitation on his face. He glances over toward a dresser across the room.
“Damian?” I ask in a different tone. “What’s the matter, sweetie? If you don’t feel like all that tonight, it’s really all—”
“No, no. I do feel like it. I’m definitely going to give you all that. But I guess...” His mouth twists. “I wanted to ask you a question first, I guess.”
“What question? Of course you can ask it first.”
He takes a weird, ragged breath and walks over to the dresser. Pulls something out of the drawer. “I thought about all kinds of romantic scenarios for this, but none of them felt right. So I think I’ll just ask you. Right now. Since I can’t get it off my mind.”
Call me clueless, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. It feels important, so I sit up in bed.
Damian crouches down beside it and gazes up at me. He extends his hand to reveal a pretty square diamond solitaire on a slim gold band. “Clarke, baby, do you think you might want to wear this?”
I’m so surprised I almost choke. My hand is shaking as I reach out toward the ring. “Wear this?”
“As an engagement ring, of course. In case that wasn’t clear. I want to marry you, Clarke. For real. Forever. So do you think you might want to—”
“Yes!” I drag him up so I can embrace him. “Yes, of course I want to wear that ring.”
“And marry me?”
“Yes, marry you!”
His big, warm body is shuddering with feeling. He crawls onto the bed with me and wraps me in his arms. “Okay. Good.”
“Good?”
“Yes. Good.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life,” he mumbles against my shoulder. “Is that enough in terms of opening up?”
“Yes. That’s enough. I’m happier than I’ve ever been too.” I suddenly realize I haven’t put on the ring. In fact, it’s gotten dropped somewhere in our tangle of limbs. It takes a minute for us to find it, but then Damian slips it on my finger. We stare down at it in a sappy haze.
“You don’t mind if I don’t change my name, do you?” I ask after a minute.
He glances up. “What, baby?”
“My name. My last name. You don’t mind if I keep it, do you? I’d kind of like to stay Clarke.”
His smile warms, softens. He leans forward to kiss me, murmuring against my mouth, “You’ll always be Clarke, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATER, WE all get together for Pop and my mother’s wedding anniversary. We have a big dinner in Charleston, and everyone in the family attends.
Damian and I fly in from Savannah, which is where he ended up getting a university teaching job. I can do my work anywhere, and we like it in Savannah. It’s near Damian’s parents but close enough to Atlanta since I still travel there fairly often because Steve and I are about to bring to market a new project.
Chelsea and Owen are there with their two little girls. (She’s pregnant with their third.) Sam and Hunter come with their two-year-old son. And Melissa and Trevor are there too, of course. They haven’t had any children and seem to be very happy that way.
Damian and I don’t have any children. It’s still a possibility for the future, but it hasn’t felt like