Page 77 of What We Broke

The details aren’t important because I’m going to marry this man no matter which one of us asks, and that’s the only thing that matters.

His hand finally moves up and down my cock, and my head falls back against his shoulder.

“You know the best part about being married?” he asks. “That this”—he drops his hand to my balls, rolling and squeezing them before tugging my cock again—“is all mine.”

I moan obscenely loud and it echoes off the shower walls.

“You gonna marry me, baby?” he says, the words making my heart frantic and my cock throb.

“Yes,” I pant. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

I’m putty in his hands as he spins me around and drops to his knees, taking my cock in his mouth. My hand glides through his hair, pulling at the strands as he bobs up and down my length. My body shudders as his tongue circles the tip and glides through the slit.

“Jesus, Jesse, if you don’t slow down, I’m going to come down your fucking throat.”

I feel him reluctantly slide off and rise to his feet. He grips my chin, and his lips collide with mine, the taste of me on his tongue as he licks inside my mouth.

“You gonna marry me, baby?” It’s always the same words, and yet for two years they hit differently every. Fucking. Time.

I reach for his dick and line it up against mine, stretching my hand across them both. “You gonna suck my cock like that if I do?”

He groans as I jerk us both, his eyes feral. “I will fucking worship you.”

“Then ask me again,” I say.

“Marry me?”

“Yes,” I breathe out. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“I need inside you.” He kisses me again, wet and hungry. “I need inside you right fucking now.”

Grabbing his hand, I switch off the shower and lead us straight back to his bed. We are dripping water everywhere but neither one of us has it in us to care.

Positioning myself in the middle of the bed, I shamelessly bend my body, legs in the air, ass on full display. Jesse finds the bottle of lube in his bedside drawer and pours it generously around my hole before coating two fingers and the length of his cock.

Jesse climbs up onto the bed, sitting on his haunches right between my spread legs. His hand and fingers greedy for my hole. There’s no finesse in the way he stretches me, his fingers impatient and desperate.

Entranced by the sight, his eyes are fixed on the way his fingers fuck me.

“I want to come home every day to you,” he says, his voice like gravel, “waiting for me just like this.”

“Only if you marry me,” I pant.

Maneuvering himself onto all fours, Jesse lines the head of his cock with my center and slowly pushes into me. He’s looking down at me as my body stretches around him, the perfect blend of love and lust glistening in his eyes.

Our foreheads press together and our breaths mingle. The room fills with nothing more than our ragged breathing as Jesse picks up the pace. His cock is so deliciously deep, expertly brushing my prostate. I’m torn between wanting to chase my release and wanting to stay in this very moment with him forever.

I loop my arms around his neck and pull him to me as he thrusts harder and faster. Determined to brand me from the inside out.

“Ask me again,” he says, his voice hoarse, his control hanging by a thread.

“Marry me,” I repeat.

“And again,” he demands, this time grabbing my dick, intent on pushing me over the edge.

I can barely manage a coherent thought as his whole body works in perfect synchronicity to bring me to my knees.

“Jesse,” I cry out. “I’m going to come.”

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