He freezes in mid-thrust, barely even breathing. And then he roars my name. The bed rocks beneath us as he fucks me hard, pounding into me without mercy. I writhe beneath him, sobbing when I can't move more than an inch or two. My whole body overheats, fire coursing through my veins instead of blood.
"Please, please, please."
"Begging," he growls. "You sound so sweet when you're begging me, Milan."
So I beg him, pleading over and over for him to let me come.
"Come then, baby girl," he says, giving me permission. "Work the cum out of me with that little cunt. Let daddy breed you."
"Oh God."
"We both know that's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes," I moan, too far gone to deny it. I want his babies more than I want my next breath. They won't grow up like I did, cast to the side and forgotten. Justice would never do that to our babies. He'll love them with his whole heart, the same way he loves me. I feel that love seeping into every pore, invading every cell. It's intense and consuming and I've never felt more perfect than I do as his baby girl.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear.
His sweet words set off a detonation. The earthquake hits all at once, shaking loose a scream I'm sure half the state can hear. I don't care. I come hard, moaning his name as my muscles and bones and organs melt into a pool of ecstasy and leave me trembling.
"Milan, baby girl," he groans long and deep and low. I feel the vibrations everywhere. He thrusts deep and stills, filling me full of him all over again.
I slump beneath him, boneless, sated, and happier than I think I've ever been. Every day with him, that pervasive sense of completeness, of rightness grows. I spent so long fighting him, refusing to believe that he could want the same things I want. I never stopped to ask myself what we were missing out on. I never stopped to consider what we could be together.
I've had a glimpse of it now, a taste of what the future has in store for the two of us, and I want more. No, I want everything. Marriage, babies, a lifetime with this incredible man, to rattle him and tease him and fight him and love him.
We were made to be this way. We were made to love this way.
"I love you," he whispers again, pressing his lips to my shoulder. He rests his head against my back for a long moment and then he eases back, sliding out of me. He goes with a groan that I echo. Losing his heat is my least favorite part of everything.
He rolls to the side of the bed and then reaches over the side to grab his pants. I watch through slit lids and an orgasm daze as he retrieves something from his pocket and then comes back to me. He sets it to the side and then shifts me around until I'm sprawled across his chest.
"Open your hand," he murmurs once I'm where he wants me.
I uncurl my fingers.
He drops a little blue box onto my palm.
"You really bought me a ring?"
"Open it," he says, smiling at me.
My hand shakes a little as I flip the box open.
"Oh," I whisper, my eyes filling with tears when I see the platinum ring. Topaz stones and smaller diamonds surround a larger diamond in a spiral pattern that make it look almost like a flower unfurling its petals. It's beautiful.
Justice takes the box from me and slips the ring out before sliding it onto my finger. We both stare at it for a long, silent moment and then he flips me over onto my back. He rises above me on his knees, sitting back on his heels.
His onyx eyes rove over me from head to toe, darkening. His tongue peeks out, caught between his teeth. His cock stirs, hardening. "Damn," he breathes then. "I knew you'd look beautiful with my ring on your finger, but I didn't know you'd look this perfect wearing nothing but my ring, Milan."
"It's beautiful, Justice," I murmur, reaching out to him. "And massive."
"Since you're too beautiful to tattoo, this will let everyone know you're mine," he says, his eyes narrowing as if he's already thinking about some other man trying to flirt with me. Maybe I shouldn't encourage his possessiveness, but I love it. Until I remember that he's not wearing a ring on his finger.
"And what's going to stop everyone from flirting with you?" I ask. His tattoos are all hidden beneath his suits. I know women flirt with him. He's a freaking billionaire and he's gorgeous.
"You," he says simply before leaning down to kiss my belly and then my nipple. He lays beside me, pulling me closer with a hand on my hip. "No one else exists to me, baby girl. I'm your daddy and only yours."
"Good," I mumble, burrowing into his arms.
He chuckles in response, brushing his lips across my cheek. "I don't want to wait to marry you, Milan. I want to do it now."
"Like right now?" I gape at him.