“You knew all along…”

“We were best buddies, Joe,” I said. “We told each other everything. I told him when I was seven years old that you’d promised to marry me one day.” I reached under his shirt and eased it over his head. I held up my hand and waggled my fingers teasingly. The ruby twisted and sparkled. “Looks like you’re finally gonna have to hold up your end of the bargain…” He pushed me back onto the bed and lifted one foot. He smiled devilishly and stripped off my boot.

“Name the day and the place,” he said with a gleam in his eyes and a challenge in his voice. He pulled off my other boot and I heard the flatteringly harsh intake of his breath. “Next week… next year… Tonight? I’ll be there,” he said, unzipping my jeans and peeling them down. “Have I ever told you how hot you look in those fucking boots?” he growled.

“Have you…?” I asked faintly. He was running his warm, rough palm up the inside of my calf. “Tell me again…”

“I wanted to fuck you right there in the bus station,” he said harshly, and I felt my breasts tingle in response. “I wanted to know how you feel… how you taste… I wanted to bend you over and take you right there.” He ran his fingers up the curve of my thigh. “My God… these legs of yours…”

I rolled over onto my hands and knees and pushed my hips back wantonly. “Like this?” I teased, looking at him over my shoulder and deepening the curve in the small of my back. “You want me like this…?”

I spread my knees on the bed and felt my pussy tighten in anticipation. I watched, feeling my own moisture pool and finally run down the inside of my leg. He kicked off his own boots and unbuckled… I watched him release his thick, swaying shaft.

“Do you want me deep?” he asked. His quiet voice was like thunder in the distance. Dark and rolling… with the hint of danger underneath. “You’ll have to take all of me this way, sweetheart…” He nudged the head of his cock between my slick lips and I felt him widen his stance…

“Last chance, Maggie,” he breathed, and I felt the head of his cock swell against me. I spread my arms out in front of me, my fingers wide, offering myself like a penitent…

“Fuck me,” I begged.

He filled me in a single thrust, arching his back over mine… holding my hips as he drove his own… over and over again. I braced, refusing to let my body move with the power of his thrusts. I held on and held still, reveling in the hard slap of his flesh into mine.

“My God…,” he gasped, grasping my ankles in his hands and pushing my knees up to my chest. “You fucking amazing woman…”

He turned me slowly, carefully on his cock, until I was on my back and he could see the look of hunger in my eyes. He pulled my ankles up until the backs of my legs rested along his sweating chest. Then he held me from below, supporting my hips and my ass, sliding me easily, weightlessly along his shaft. He shifted one hand between my legs and rubbed circles against my clit, slowly at first… gaining speed as his cock moved faster. My breasts bounced hard with every thrust… He was watching them move, and the hungry look in his eyes pushed me even closer to the edge.

“Touch them, sweetheart,” he ground out, biting into his own lip and pushing his cock to the limit. He held still for a moment and I could feel him swelling inside me. “Go on…,” he demanded, “I want to see…”

I reached up and cupped my own flesh, awkward at first, but drawing courage from his response. He sucked in a hard breath and held it, pumping his hips into me in tiny, restrained thrusts. “Like this…?” My question was soft, barely breaking the silence. I squeezed until my breasts were high and mounded, the nipples only inches apart… Then I pinched my nipples with my fingers and thumbs, lengthening them and stretching them up…

A second later, he was no longer standing. His chest was on mine, hard and slick and heavy… my legs were pushed up, resting along my own sides, my own shoulders. I was folded sharply in two, with my sex tight, exposed and utterly vulnerable. He buried his face in my neck and I held on as he drove into me. We breathed the same air, beat the same heartbeat, matched the same rhythm, thrust for exquisite thrust. When I gasped and cried his name, he exploded as well, and the storm hit us together. We rode the pummeling waves of pleasure, holding on… never letting go. We lost ourselves in its power and in its strength, both finding and creating the meaning in our love. When we were finally spent, I cradled him in my arms, stroking his hair as his breathing began to steady.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered finally. “...I think I’ll marry you tomorrow…”

The gentle smell of rain filled the air, and a cool breeze blew softly through the open window.