He pulled her hips up farther and settled her weight on all fours, the bed creaking while he repositioned their bodies. As he came in behind her, she looked through her legs. All she saw was his thick thighs and his heavy, hanging sack and his straining arousal. Her core went utterly wet, as if her body knew exactly what was coming.
His chest eased down over her back, and one of his hands appeared beside her head, planting into the mattress as a fist. His forearm flexed and the veins in it thickened as he leaned to the side and brought the head of his erection to the tender skin between her legs. With a little teasing brush, he worked himself back and forth along the outside of her and she knew he was looking at her sex while he did it.
Going by the way he started to shake, he really liked what he saw.
"Marissa... I want to - " He cut himself off with an indistinct curse.
"What?" She twisted a little so she could look up at him around her shoulder.
As he stared down at her, his eyes had that hard, intense gleam he seemed to get when he was serious about sex, but there was something else in them, a glowing need that had nothing to do with their bodies. Instead of explaining himself, he planted his other hand into the bed, eased onto her back and pushed his hips in tight without penetrating her. With a gasp, she dropped her head and watched his arousal shoot straight up through her legs. The tip stretched almost to her belly button.
God, now she knew why he liked to look. Because... yes, she liked the sight of him all aroused, too.
"What were you going to say?" she groaned.
"Baby..." His breath was hot on her neck, his voice a dark, driving demand in her ear. "Ah, shit, I can't ask you like this."
His mouth locked onto her shoulder, his teeth pressing into her skin. As she cried out, her elbows went lax, but he caught her before she fell into the mattress, holding her up with an arm between her breasts.
"Ask me..." she panted.
"I would... if I could stop this... but oh, God..."
He pulled back, then entered her, going just as deep as he'd said he would, the powerful surge making her arch her back and call out his name. He started in with that rhythm that drove her wild, but he was still gentle, moving with so much less power than she sensed he could.
She was loving the feel of him, that fullness, that stretching and gliding back, when it dawned on her that they were going to go to work on his body within the hour.
What if this was their last time?
Tears pooled. Matted her lashes. Blinded her. And when he twisted her chin around so he could kiss her, he saw them.
"Don't think about it," he whispered against her mouth. "Stay with me in this moment. Stay right here with me."
Remember this moment. Remember him here...
He pulled out, turned her over, and joined them face-to-face, brushing at her cheeks and kissing her as he kept up with the sex. They peaked at the same time, the pleasure so great, his head went loose on his neck as if he couldn't hold it up any longer.
Afterward, he rolled onto his side and gathered her against his chest. As she listened to the thumping of his heart, she prayed the thing was as strong as it sounded.
"What were you going to say?" she whispered in the dimness.
"Will you be my wife?"
She lifted her head. His hazel eyes were dead serious and she had the feeling he was thinking the same thing she was: Why hadn't they been mated sooner?
The single word left her on a sigh. "Yes..."
He kissed her softly. "I want to do it both ways. Your way and in a Catholic church. Would that be all right?"
She touched the cross he wore. "Absolutely."
"I wish there was time to - "
The alarm clock started to go off. With a vicious move, he slapped it into silence.
"I guess we need to get up," she said, moving away a little.
She didn't get far. He pulled her back down to the bed, pinned her with his body, and slipped his hand between her legs.