Page 160 of Marry Me, Maybe?
He gasped, jerking his hips forward as I worked him open, slow, steady.
“I’m a little more convinced,” he gasped. “But not by much.”
“I know what you need.” I gripped his hips and drew him back, nudging the blunt head of my cock between his cheeks. He opened up around me, tight heat and sweet pressure engulfing me as I pushed deeper inside him.
“Fuck, Matt,” Hudson groaned, his head falling back. An arm around his torso, I angled his head to my shoulder and kissed him. Sloppy kisses filled the space between us. Tongues tangled, both of us groaning into the other.
“Matt.”
“Right here, babe,” I whispered, kissing his throat as I sank the rest of the way inside. “Always.”
The chains creaked as I set the swing moving again, rocking us gentle and easy. Each sway rolled me deeper into him. Our breaths fell in rhythm, and soft moans blended with the night sounds. My hand on his torso ensured he was never pushed too far away so I could control the way he swung back onto my cock each time.
“What do you say now, Hud?” I ground in the last swing. He arched his back, but I had him tight. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Do I get to marry you on the twenty-first of next month?”
“Fuck, yes. I’ll marry you tomorrow if you don’t stop. Oh fuck, I love the way that cock feels inside me. You’re so thick.”
“Just for you, babe.” I rocked him faster back onto my cock. “All of this is just for you.” I kissed every word into his skin, my pace quickening as the swing groaned louderunder us. “Gonna be the best husband to you, Hudson. I swear on my life.”
“Me too, Matty. I won’t ever let you regret marrying me.”
What started slow and intimate turned sharp, desperate, hips snapping harder as the heat coiled low. His hand slipped to his cock, stroking fast, reckless, the wet slap of skin against skin syncing with the slap of my hips into his ass. Each thrust pushed the swing harder, chains clattering in a frantic tempo. His body milked me with every drive in, clenching tighter, dragging groans out of me I couldn’t hold back.
“Hudson—fuck—goddamn, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I pounded harder, faster, the chains above shrieking with each violent rock. My chest slammed to his back, my hand flattening over his racing heart.
“Don’t stop,” he begged, voice raw, as he pumped himself faster. “I’m—fuck, Matty—I’m gonna?—”
The words cut off in a ragged cry as he convulsed, and his cock pulsed hot over his fist, his body tightening like a vise around me. The squeeze of him sent fire tearing up my spine, and I drove into him again and again and again until the orgasm broke me wide open.
I spilled into him with a hoarse groan, my teeth catching his shoulder, muffling the sounds neither of us could control. His body clutched every pulse of me, dragging it out, until I was wrecked, trembling, still buried deep inside him.
The swing slowed, the chains easing to a lazy groan as our bodies slumped together, sweaty and shaking. Our breaths came harsh and uneven in the cool night, and for a long moment, all I could do was hold him and brush my lips over his damp skin.
“Jesus,” I whispered finally, kissing the back of his neck. “I fucking love you.”
“The twenty-first.” He rested his head against my shoulder.
“The twenty-first,” I agreed. The swing swayed gently beneath us, carrying us through the comfortable silence that followed, forged with love and hope for our future together.
39
MATTY
As Ivy and I stepped inside Miss Loreen’s bakery, the bell above the door jingled, and the smell of sugar and warm bread wrapped around us like a hug. Her little arm was snug in its purple cast, the sling looped around her shoulder, but she clutched my hand tight with her good one, chin tipped up like nothing in the world could slow her down.
“Cake,” she whispered, conspiratorial, as if that weren’t the only reason we ever came here after our drive to Madden.
Miss Loreen popped her head up from behind the counter, her handkerchief holding back a halo of gray curls. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite Magnuson,” she said warmly. Then her gaze dropped to Ivy’s sling. “And what have we here?”
Ivy immediately held out her casted arm, awkward but determined, showing off the shiny ring I’d slipped onto her finger earlier. “I got a pweety ring.”
Miss Loreen bent closer, eyes crinkling. “Gosh, isn’t that beautiful?”
Ivy’s smile split wide. “I’m engaged to Daddy.”
I laughed, ruffling her curls. “Engaged, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded so hard the sling tugged against her shoulder.
