Time had stopped completely, and Ashton was saying, “Harley, before I met you, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever have love, or a family that loved me. You’ve changed my life, and more importantly, you’ve changed me.”

He blushed a little as he continued. “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring—I was planning wait at least a little longer before I asked you—but I couldn’t exist for one more minute without knowing that we could spend the rest of our days together.”

He took a deep breath, paused, and then continued, “So, Harley Phillips… Will you marry me?”

“Screw the ring!” I crowed, and we both broke into laughter.

“Is that a yes?”

“Um, it’s a big, big yes. I don’t care about jewelry, I just want you. Can I have that?”

“Can you have me?” he replied. “Harley, you have me—mind, body and soul. You’ve had me since the moment I met you.”

I couldn’t stand it any longer—Ashton was on his knees, and right where I’d wanted him all damn day. Screw it. I was going to give into my lesser angels.

“You may not be able to give me a ring just yet,” I began coyly, “but I know something else you can give me.”

With that, I lifted up my skirt, revealing to Ashton that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His eyes went wide with appreciation, and in the blink of an eye, before I was able to get my bearings, he’d lunged from kneeling to position himself between my thighs. He rose swiftly, wrapping his hands around my ass to stabilize me, and suddenly, I was in the air.

I squealed with delight, my head almost brushing the ceiling. “Take me to the bedroom, like right now!”

His words were muffled by my thighs, but he managed to enunciate, “Okay, but you’re gonna have to direct me there.”

Laughing, I began to call out directions as though we were doing some kind of elaborate trust fall: two steps forward, three steps to the left, one to the right, walk backwards. Occasionally, on our journey down the hallway, my GPS skills were interrupted by my own moans; Ashton had begun to tauntingly flick his tongue against my clit, and I grasped onto his head as waves of pleasure rocked through me.

At last, we managed to stumble into the bedroom, where Ashton promptly threw me down on the bed. I grinned at the animalistic glint in his eye; he was just as hungry, if not hungrier, than I was.

“Do you realize I’ve been thinking about your pussy all day?” he asked gruffly. “And now I’m gonna have my way with you. Take off your clothes.”

I did as I was told, whipping off my dress and bra. The white sheets were soft against my tanned skin.

“I want to watch you pleasure yourself,” he ordered as he too began to undress.

I was more than happy to oblige. I let my fingers trail down my stomach, past my soft, downy hair and to my clit, which I began to stroke with soft, teasing touches. Ashton had completely stripped, and the mere sight of his naked body near pushed me to the brink. The curvature of his toned arms, the deep indentations above his hips, the girth of his hard cock. Every part of him inspired my fingers to move my fingers faster and faster.

He stayed at a tantalizing distance, watching me but not making any moves.

“Ashton,” I pleaded, “come here.”

“What was that?” he mocked.

God, was I gonna have to beg for it?

“Please.”

He sighed, and ran a thumb across his jawline. “Be specific. Paint me a picture of exactly what you want.”

“I want you.”

“More specific.”

Horny and frustrated, I elaborated, “I want you and your gorgeous cock to fuck me ten ways to Sunday. How does that sound?”

A Cheshire-Cat grin transformed his face, and with that, he threw himself on the bed like a jaguar attacking its prey. He removed my hand from my now engorged clit and flipped me over onto my stomach.

As he slowly closed the distance between us, I felt his hard dick teasing the soft skin of my inner thighs. I wanted him inside me, but I also wanted the delicious sensation to never end. Decisions, decisions.

His breath was heavy in my ear, and I sensed that our breathing patterns had aligned. We were in perfect, ineffable unison.

“Now,” I whispered.

With an unruly groan, he plunged his cock deep inside of me. I gasped for air, as if emerging to the surface for the first time in minutes. Indeed, being with Ashton felt like swimming through uncharted territories, and only his body could keep the waters from getting too murky.

He stroked in and out, in and out, his tip hitting my G-spot over and over, the curvature of his cock harmonizing with the shape of my intimate places.

I registered a sound somewhere in the distance, and only later did I realize that they were moans growling out of my chest.

His thrusts grew faster, and I knew that we were both on the brink.

“Yes, Ashton,” I cried, ready to be pushed over the edge.

Ashton obliged, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew that his mouth was spread wide in a roguish grin.

“Okay,” he replied, and with no prelude, he brought his finger around to stroke my clit, intuitively aware that his touch would take me over the brink.

“Oh, yes!” I screamed, as he increased the pace of his thrusts in sync with his stroking, bringing us both crashing over the edge into orgasmic ecstasy.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that before we rolled off one another, lying side by side on our backs, chests heaving. At last, Ashton turned towards me, eyes half-closed from exertion. A blissed-out smile pulled at the corners of his cheeks.

“What are you so giddy about?” I laughed.

The smile grew wider, and Ashton said, “Marrying you.”