eyes and pride etched across every single line of his face.
Love is there, waiting, if you’re willing to look for it, to fight for it, no matter how strange it seems or how much others tell you it’s wrong. Only your heart knows what you want, what you need, and you should listen to it beyond everything else.
Beyond the hate, beyond the doubts.
Love is love.
Despite age, gender, or the amount of people. And as long as you are happy, why does anyone else’s opinion matter?
It fucking doesn’t.
Let them hate, because love will always win, and one day, their hate will be the only thing they have left in this world.
It’s been two months since we got back together, and this time, I’m counting, because I know this will last. Our love will endure everything this world throws at it.
Tyler has been hinting at a surprise for weeks now, almost gleeful with knowing. I try to entice it out of him at every turn, but he just grins and distracts me in the best ways. I officially moved out of my apartment last week and in with him. For years, it was my house, my escape from the world. There, I taught myself to be independent, and I fell in love with who I was.
But it’s time to go home and move on to the next stage of my life with Tyler.
His house is always filled with laughter, and I love waking up next to him every morning. He still touches me every time I enter a room, like he can’t believe I’m really here. He also built me a wardrobe for all my costumes and a makeup stand to display everything. Without even asking, he saw my need and dealt with it. He really is incredible.
I look up from my texting session to see him reading. What is it about a man reading that’s so hot? He’s holding his book with one hand. His grey joggers are loose around his thick thighs, and his chest is bare, showing me all his impressive muscles. His hair is pushed back and slightly wild from me trying to plait it earlier. His other hand is cupping my toes where they rest on his thigh. Leaning back into the sofa, I just watch him, watch the way his eyes flicker over the pages, absorbing every word, and the way his lips move as he reads without even knowing.
The way his shoulders clench and roll as he turns the page before cupping my toes again, squeezing to remind me he’s here. Sometimes, being together is enough, even if it’s just relaxing.
“What, Angel?” he murmurs distractedly.
“You’re pretty,” I tease.
He snorts and winks at me before going back to reading. Unable to help myself, I wiggle my toes, and he lets go as I snake further down the sofa, pressing them to his cock. His eyebrows rise, and he looks up.
“What are you up to, Angel?” he asks with a grin, his arm draping over the back of the sofa.
“Nothing,” I reply innocently, and pretend to read on my phone again.
He goes back to his book, and I arch my foot, dragging it along his cock, back and forth, concentrating on it, even as I stare at my phone like it’s an accident. I feel his cock hardening against my foot and his eyes lasering in on me.
“Angel,” he warns, the low timbre of his voice instantly making my pussy clench. It’s his bedroom voice.
“Yes, Daddy?” I inquire sweetly, blinking as I look at him. I lock my phone and toss it down to the floor next to me as I push my foot into his cock, making him grunt.
He slowly closes the book, placing his bookmark there, and leans over to set it on the coffee table before sitting back, those eyes locking on me again. “You want to play?” he murmurs, pressing his hand onto my foot and rubbing it against his cock.
“Always,” I purr, and slowly pull my crop top up to expose my breasts. I already decided bras were pointless when living with him—they either get lost or ripped away—so I never wear them. He watches me, and deciding to push him further, I slide my fingers across my belly to my joggers and then slowly slip them inside to touch my bare pussy. Panties are the same as bras—they just get in the way.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. I part my thighs and rub my wet center, moaning