35. Thirty-Five

Thirty-Five

A warm breeze tickles my naked flesh and blows through my hair, rousing me from sleep. I have no idea how long I've been out, but I open my eyes to be greeted by the sight of my diamond ring glittering in the afternoon sunlight, and I break out into a broad smile.

Mrs Sophie Black.

Excitement dances in my stomach as I turn over onto my back and prop myself up on my elbows. Art's black swim shorts and my bikini are laid out across one of the nearby rocks, drying in the sunshine, but he's nowhere to be seen.

I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the sun and scan the shoreline. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot movement. Art erupts out of the water, throwing his head back, sending droplets cascading in every direction. He rubs his hands up his face, pushing his soaking hair backwards as he wades out of the water and onto the beach, oblivious to the fact that he's being admired. My stomach twists as I take in the six foot two inches of muscular, golden loveliness striding towards me. And he's all mine. Forever.

He smiles as he notices me looking and bends down, planting a wet kiss on my lips, dripping water everywhere as he collapses onto the blanket. "Water's warm." He folds his arms behind his head. "Are you sure you don't want a dip?"

The dark hairs covering his legs, arms, and chest are sticking to his skin, and his ripped body is glistening wet. I feel a flutter between my legs and shake my head. There's only one thing on my mind at the moment.

I slide on top of him, straddling his thighs, and take a sharp breath as I get used to the feel of his cool, damp skin against my sun-kissed body.

"You're nice and warm." His smile widens as I lower myself down onto him, pressing my breasts against his chest.

"You're wet," I mutter against his lips.

His hands glide down my back and curl around my buttocks, pressing me against his erection. As I slowly grind my hips, he pulls away from my mouth on a long exhale.

His eyes search my face. "Are you sure about this?"

I know what he's asking. I want this. I want the marriage and the family. And I want it with him, like he wants it with me. The man I love. My fiancé. My future.

I lock eyes with his dark gaze, push myself upright, and throw his words back at him. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

I reach back between my thighs and curl a hand around the base of his erection, sinking down onto his length. His chest rises and falls, and his eyes remain glued on mine. A groan escapes his lips as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes for a moment, adjusting to the feel of me. I reposition myself, taking him a little deeper. His hands fondle my breasts as I rock my hips up and down, setting off a spark of desire between my legs. For once, I'm in control.

His lustful gaze never leaves my face as he continues to knead my breasts. "So fucking beautiful," he breathes.

I close my eyes and moan as the delicious friction grows, throwing my head backwards and pushing my chest forwards into his hands, giving him an uninterrupted view of my body as I ride him.

Suddenly, I feel him move, and he's sitting up, holding my hips. My weight shifts backwards, forcing him deeper inside me, causing me to gasp.

"Kiss me."

My eyes fly open at the demand, and I grip his shoulders to steady myself in the new position, obligingly placing a passionate kiss on his lips. Impatient fingers dig into me as he moves my hips down onto his thrusts, impaling me onto his length. I'm no longer in control; he's taken over. Setting a steady, rhythm, filling every inch of me.

I tear my lips from his as my muscles quiver around him, and I close my eyes as I fight off the inevitable. He must know because he stops, and the pressure inside me wanes slightly. He kisses the soft skin behind my right ear, and I tilt my head, giving as much of myself as I can to him as he whispers words of adoration against my skin.

He gently squeezes my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly encircles the pink areola with his tongue, and then sucks hard at the bud. The switch between soft and hard sends a charge through my centre, and my brain's liquid. I can't hold it together much longer.

He picks up the pace again with precise, forceful thrusts that ramp up the tension between my legs, causing my muscles to twitch every time he plunges into me. This is hard and deep, and he's trying to tell me something.

Just when I don't think it can get any more intense, he removes a hand from my hip and glides it between our clammy bodies, caressing my clit with his fingers. And I'm not prepared.

"Art!" I suck in a lungful of air to steady myself.

His cock is deep inside me, and this fresh onslaught of pleasure is a whole new level of intense.

"Look at me, Sophie," he rasps.

I force myself to focus. His eyes are burning with lust as they bore into me, and I'm afraid I might melt.

"You're the centre of my universe. I felt like my heart had been ripped out when you walked out the other day." He gently bites my bottom lip and then releases it. "Tell me you won't ever do that again."

The confusion clears. This is a possession fuck. Why does he need to do this? I've just agreed to marry him; isn't that enough?

"I've already promised no more running."

"You said that before … you still ran."

"I won't if you don't give me any more reason to."

His hands grab the back of my head and pull me to him, kissing me hard for forever. I'm left gasping, and my lips sting.

He presses his head to mine. He stares at me. "I promise you I won't give you any more reason to. Now, tell me you won't fuck off again."

I shake my head. "Why do you always do this? Why don't you talk to me?"

"It's my way."

His hands push down on my hips, driving himself inside me once more, and I cry out as my muscles quiver around him. I know he feels it, too, because his eyes briefly snap shut, and he puffs out a long breath to steady himself.

He opens his eyes and fixes me with a penetrating stare. "Promise me."

He's everywhere, totally in control of my body and mind. And he's using it to try and get his own way, like he always does. But not this time.

"I don't need to promise you."

"Sophie …"

"You know I won't leave you."

He stills inside me, panting. "But you did."

I link my arms around his neck. "I'm not going anywhere," I murmur against his lips.

"Sophie," he groans and closes his eyes, tilting his head back.

"I'm yours."

I kiss his throat, and a moan escapes him as his need for control slips.

"I love you," I whisper.

"Fucking hell …"

His head lolls to the side, and I feel his cock grow even harder inside me. I press a kiss against the base of his throat to suppress a groan. I feel him throb against my muscles, and I know we're both achingly close. I slowly roll my hips up and down and press my forehead to his.

"I'll never leave you, Art."

He sighs my name, meeting the slow rock of my hips with gentle thrusts. "And I'll never leave you." There's a look of part-wonder, part-confusion in his eyes as his gaze slides down my body. "I don't know what we do to one another." On the next thrust, he pushes inside me all the way and stays there, filling me to the hilt.

His eyes search my face, like he's waiting for me to give him the answer, but the truth is, I'm just as clueless.

My mouth falls slack as I feel him pulsate against the tight, wet heat between my thighs. He glides a palm back between our sweaty bodies. I throw my head back as the intensity ratchets through my body, and I cling on to the last ounce of self-control I possess. This is too much. I'm teetering on the brink, but he's determined to pleasure me until the last possible moment.

"Look at me," he whispers.

My concentration has been knocked sideways. I wasn't aware I'd stopped. I lift my eyes to his once more.

His jaw is taut with tension as he fights to keep control. "You're mine, and I'm yours. I love you."

As the last word falls from his lips, I feel his cock swell inside me, nudging me over the edge. My orgasm cuts through me like a ray of white heat searing through my body, sending me tumbling into a dark abyss, trembling around him. His hands grip my shoulders, forcing me down onto his throbbing cock, filling me to the absolute maximum as he comes with a primal roar, which echoes around the rocks.

I crumple forward against him and drape my arms around his neck. The beat of his heart vibrates through his chest into mine. I blink back tears.

He rests a hand on top of my head, and we stay there in silence.

"I'm so happy."

He read my mind.

I draw my head back slightly. Concerned eyes rest on my damp cheeks.

"Are you okay?"

"They're happy tears," I assure him.

He presses his lips to my cheeks, kissing them away. "Good, because I can't function without you. I'm half a man when you're not there." He breaks into an easy smile. "And I still can't believe you're going to be mine."

"I am yours."

He meets my eyes. "I mean, officially." He pauses, as if he's deciding whether to carry on. "I was really nervous, you know … about asking you."

"Why? Were you worried I wouldn't say yes?"

"There's always a chance." His smile fades. "And I'm not sure how I would have handled that."

My thoughts hark back to Barbara's words.

"… all he'd ever known was l oss and rejection, and he can't deal with it."

"I was never going to say no."

He grins. "Where do you want to get married?"

"You've only just proposed." I laugh. "I haven't really thought about it."

He places a kiss on my forehead. "We'll do whatever you want, wherever you want it, but as you know, patience isn't one of my strong points, so I don't want to wait forever to make you mine."

"I am yours," I insist.

"Officially. I'm not saying I want to get married next week, but I don't want to wait months and months either."

I frown. At this rate, we'll be married by Christmas. "So, when are you saying you want to get married?"

"Within the next six months."

My eyes widen in slight panic. He does want us married by Christmas.

"Six months! It takes ages to plan a wedding. I should know; I'm a bloody wedding planner."

He slides his hands around my waist and pulls me to him, meeting my eyes. "It's just … now that I've found you, I want us to get on with our lives together. I want to make you mine. I want to leave the city and my past behind and begin my new life with you. I want to live in the suburbs and start a family and our future together."

He's just outlined my perfect happily ever after, and my heart sings.

"I'll start looking at venues when we get home," I agree.

He plants a kiss on my lips and rests his forehead against mine. "Good. And Mum will insist on throwing us an engagement party, by the way."

I sigh and stroke my fingers across the scruff of his jaw, imagining the furore once I've broken the news to my family. "Mum and Martin will be beside themselves with excitement."

He laughs softly. "I can imagine. Lucy will be bad enough. Apparently, when Big Steve told her I was going to propose, she didn't stop screaming for five minutes."

"That's why she was acting weird earlier on," I say as the penny drops. "She knew."

"I wasn't going to tell you about the yacht. I'd planned for us to take a walk around the marina, and I was going to surprise you when we got there, but Lucy changed that plan."

"I knew it! I saw her give you a funny look when she came to drop your luggage off. And then when we went down into the cabin of the boat, she said something weird, and I thought she was going to cry at one point." I smile. "She loves a bit of gossip. Big Steve letting her in on the fact that you were going to propose would probably have made her day."

Art smiles. "You two are so close; I thought it was only right she knew. Even if she nearly did blow it."

I look out at the ocean. "I hope she's okay. Should we head back to the boat?"

"Lucy and Big Steve are more than okay." He scoops his arms around my waist and squeezes me into a tight hug. "We'll go back in a while. I want you to myself a little longer."

My gaze travels across his broad chest and down to the undulations of his abs to rest on the V of his hips. I want him to myself a little longer too.

He follows my line of sight. "I love being inside you."

He's still there, and he has made no attempt to move.

"Do you think we'll turn into one of those couples who only has sex twice a month after we're married?" I tease.

He frowns, not seeing the funny side. "I don't think so. More like twice a day, you mean."

"Twice a day!"

"And that still won't be enough. I could spend all day, every day, making love to you, and it still wouldn't be enough. It's never enough. I can't get enough of you."

He kisses me and lowers us back down onto the blanket, pulling me to him. As he rolls me over, I feel him stiffen inside me, and a groan falls from my lips at the sensation of him filling me again.

I can't get enough of him either.