out. I feel the tip of his shaft at my entrance for a mere breath, and then he plunges inside, slowly and steadily.
I can’t help it. It rips a shriek from my mouth.
“Okay?” he asks me, searching out my eyes.
How can it be wrong? It’s my husband and me. Together. Making love. Nothing could be more right. “Yes. More. Faster.”
Another slow slide out, and this time no pause. He thrusts into me, hard this time. The pressure is building, blooming deep in my core like a volcano, ready to erupt. His muscles are tense as he pulls out and thrusts again, harder, faster, deeper, fueling the desire to get more of him as far into me as possible.
I have never been fucked like this before. Thoroughly, completely, fully fucked so that every pore in my body is a firework ready to explode.
“Yes. Yes,” I cry out. “God, Luke. Oh god. Don’t stop, don’t ever, ever stop, please don’t ever stop, Luke.” I’m blabbering.
“You like it hard?” he says, voice strained as I’m now lifting my hips off the truck bed, meeting his every thrust in a steadily hastening rhythm. We’re both covered in sweet sweat, and the friction is threatening to make us burst into flames.
“Yes. However you want it—just please give me you,” I gasp, a frisson of pleasure radiating out from low in my belly, threatening to take over every inch of me. Now I feel shameless. I want his mouth on me, everywhere. I want him to fuck me forever. The pressure in my belly is now thundering through me, and I know something monumental is about to happen.
He slows his thrusts, sliding in and out, testing the rhythm, getting even deeper. His chest slides against my hard nipples, and suddenly I let out a cry. He’s found the right place, because the pleasure is almost too much to take. I’m getting even hotter and closer to that edge than I dreamed possible. I hook my legs around his hips, and he buries himself impossibly deep inside me. I’m frantic as I go off like a rocket, clutching his big body as my only lifeline tethering me to this earth.
My entire body ripples with such intensity I let out a primal scream, my nails scraping down his back. I come. So hard. So hard that I keep screaming and sobbing his name, over and over again, even as I start to come down. He rips me apart.
He must’ve been holding out on me, because the second I find myself coming down, he plunges deep into me, holding me there, and I feel him pulsating inside me. He lets out a long, muffled groan into my hair, then whispers my name over and over again.
“Penny,” he murmurs as the shuddering subsides, gazing dreamily into my eyes. He falls then, completely limp, into my arms, and I hold him close as the stars and the moon and the whole world seem to be shining on us, smiling at this perfect moment.
There’s no doubt in my mind. This so-wrong-for-me man?
Is so, so, so right.
Luke
Right. It was tough waiting until December 17. But here we are. So let’s get this done.
—Luke’s Finale Interview, December 17
Later, she’s lying against my chest, completely spent.
My fucking beautiful wife.
The sun is breaking over the horizon. What felt like an hour has been ten.
Her breath on me is a feeling I wish I could bottle and save. The smell of her shampoo and her arousal is heavy in the damp morning air, and I inhale it into my lungs, wanting to drown in it. I stare at her light eyelashes fluttering, the bridge of freckles over her nose, her red raw lips, and I want it all so bad, in my pocket, all the time.
I run my hands down her bare back and tangle my legs with hers. Her eyes open, and she lifts her chin to look at me. “Good morning.”
There are so many things I still want to do to her. Again and again. I want to suck and lick and touch and taste her, all of her, every last piece, over and over. I will never get enough.
But our time is up.
“Morning, sweetheart. I think we have to go.”
She pouts, but she slips soundlessly out of the sleeping bag. We find our clothes in piles all over the back of the truck and dress slowly, as if that will help us extend our time together.
I watch her slipping on her shoes on the