“Go ahead, my love,” he encouraged, his own breathing ragged with desire. “Let go for me.”
And obediently, the walls of my pussy clenched tightly around his cock, and I came, wave after wave of blazing rapture washing over me.
“Mmm, Samantha,” he groaned. His thrusts grew more erratic, and I could feel him swelling inside me, preparing to fill me. He panted, and with one last thrust, he came hard, flooding me with shot after shot of his hot cum.
For a few minutes, he stayed buried deep inside me, and we lay with our bodies entwined as if they were meant to be connected always.
“You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever known,” he whispered into my ear. “I will worship your body until I breathe my last breath.”
He kissed me deeply then, and I tasted myself on his lips—an intoxicating blend of our passion. Catching his breath, Atticus carefully pulled out of me, leaving a lingering emptiness in his wake.
“Stay right here,” he instructed lovingly, and I nodded, too exhausted to protest. “I’ll take care of you.”
He disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm, wet washcloth. Gently, he cleaned my folds and thighs, tenderly removing any traces of our lovemaking. All the while, his eyes never left my most private area. I relaxed into his hands, opening my knees fully and trusting him with all of me.
“Sam, I can’t imagine ever spending another day waking up without you,” he confessed, his eyes shining with sincerity.
He crawled up beside me on the bed, and we snuggled up together, our bodies intertwined once again. As we lay wrapped up in each other, the world outside faded away. It was just us, and for the first time, I allowed myself to truly believe in the possibility of a future together, one filled with love and understanding, no matter what the past held.
Soon sleep claimed us both.
The next morning, I awoke and stretched languidly, reveling in the familiar ache between my legs. Atticus—who had apparently already risen, showered, and gotten dressed—stood at the bottom of the bed, watching me with a smirk.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well?” he asked.
“You have no idea! After that horrible hospital bed, this is like sleeping on clouds.”
“I’m glad it pleases you so much, because you need to stay in bed today,” he insisted in his doctor’s professional voice, as if it were an all-powerful decree.
“Atticus, I’m fine,” I argued, rolling my eyes. I sat up and threw off the covers. A grin spread across my face as I watched him try to maintain his stern expression with my nude body on display. “I can handle dinner and holiday celebrations with your brothers.”
“Mmm, you rolled your eyes at me,” he said with an appraising bounce of his brow and a soft chuckle. “Look, I know you’re tough, but you’ve been through a lot, and brain injuries take time to heal. You know that. Just take today to rest, okay? You’ll enjoy the evening better if you do. Doctor’s orders.”
“Ugh, fine,” I conceded, sinking back into the pillow and pulling the covers over me. In truth, spending a lazy day in bed sounded downright heavenly.
After I’d spent a few hours lounging and dozing, my patience wore thin. I decided to get up and make myself presentable. Atticus had invited his brothers over for dinner—not only for a little holiday celebration but also to thank them for helping us through the tumultuous situation with the Volkovi. I luxuriated under the warm spray of the shower, letting the water cleanse away any lingering fatigue. Once I was dried and dressed, I slipped into a cream-colored angora sweater and dark heather leggings, wanting to be comfortable but also a bit festive. I didn’t bother with shoes. I relished the cool sensation of the wooden floor beneath my bare feet.
As I descended the stairs, Conan’s boisterous laughter floated up from the front door. Rushing down to greet him, I teased, “You’d better keep an eye on that brother of yours. He’s turned into quite the mother hen.”
Conan laughed heartily again, his emerald eyes twinkling with amusement. Moments later, Braxton joined us, his warm smile lighting up the room. We chatted idly for a while until the brothers suddenly concocted an excuse for me to go fetch an important letter from Atticus’s car in the garage. With a puzzled shrug, I headed out, searching for whatever letter they claimed to need.
I rummaged through Atticus’s car, wondering what this ruse was really all about.
After searching his entire car, I finally gave up and went back inside empty-handed. When I returned to the living room, Atticus was standing there with his signature smirk, gesturing toward the Christmas tree.
“Your Christmas present is under the tree,” he announced.
“Really?” I asked, bouncing on my toes in anticipation. “Can I open it now?”
“Actually,” Atticus replied, “it looks like it’s opening itself.”
Confused, I turned to the tree to find a tiny black-and-white furball lifting the lid off a big red box. My heart leaped, and I rushed over, scooping up the adorable shih tzu puppy from its festive prison. The puppy wriggled enthusiastically in my arms, wagging his fluffy tail furiously. A vibrant red bow was tied around his neck, making him the perfect holiday gift.
“Atticus, he’s beautiful! I can’t believe you did this. What a sweet little boy!” I cooed, pressing my face against the pup’s soft fur, inhaling his puppy scent and embracing his unconditional love.
As I cuddled the pup, I noticed something. There was a glint of metal in the oversized bow tied around the pup’s neck. Scrutinizing it a little closer, I found a ring and a key tied to the bow. When I turned back to Atticus, he was down on one knee. Tenderly, he untied the bow and retrieved a stunning princess-cut diamond set in a platinum band.
“Sammich,” Atticus began, his voice choked with emotion. “From the moment you ran into me in the break room, I knew there was something special about you. You’ve shown me what it means to love and be loved. I want nothing more than to protect and cherish you for the rest of our lives. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”