by Nicole Snow
“Don't care if you go off to college, or Paris, or the friggin' moon. I can't live without you, babe, and I'd be a fool not to do everything I can to show you I'm serious.”
“Oh my God...” Her voice dies as I sink to my knees.
Thankfully, it only takes a second to reach into my pocket, picking out the carefully concealed box I've been carrying all day. It's taken me the entire summer to save up for the modifications with the jeweler, getting it re-sized and inscribed like I want.. As for the ring itself, I had a little help.
My thumb flicks the top open, and holds it out to her. “It's your grandmom's ring. Bart gave it to me this morning, after I told him I was going to marry you, and I wanted his permission first.”
I owe her dad big time, it's true. Especially when he's been like a father to me for years, long before he's becoming my father-in-law.
Those beautiful breasts I can't wait to pillage bob on her chest as her breathing quickens. For a second, I'm afraid I've made a huge mistake, and she's going to say no.
Grabbing her hand, I grip it in mine, bringing it closer to the ring. “Look, I know we're young. I know this is sudden. Most people our age are focused on school, or figuring out what club they're going to hit the next night, and who their next fling is going to be. I don't care about any of that. The day I met you, Kara-bou, I knew you were mine. We're young, and people will bitch, but I don't care what they think. Fuck the crowd. I'm spending my life with you, love, every single day I can. By this time next year, I want to be planning our wedding, assuming you say you'll marry me.” I'm rattling on like a fool, so I shut up and look at her, lacing my fingers tighter in hers. “Will you, baby?”
She answers me by falling down on her knees so hard the bang of bone on metal echoes through the lighthouse. I've seen her speechless before a hundred times, but she always gives me an answer.
This time, it's the best wordless reply I've ever heard. She jumps me, snatching at the ring with her free hand, bringing her hot little mouth to mine.
We kiss for eons, rolling around in the lighthouse, lost in each other for so long it's dark and raining by the time we finally stop for air. If it wasn't for the risk of retirees or oddball travelers popping in, interrupting our privacy, I'd take her here on the floor, having our first time overlooking the cool, choppy waves below.
“I love you, Ryan Caspian. I can't wait to be your wife.”
Shit. She's serious.
The prettiest girl in town just said yes. It's the first time one of my crazy plans worked. Means so much I don't care if it ever happens again.
It's my turn to be speechless. She's just told me the best thing a man can hear. I'm only twenty, not even old enough to drink, but I know it's true. Know it every time my heart beats a little harder, staring at my new fiancee, imagining how hot she's going to look dressed up in white, coming toward me at the altar.
“Love you, Kara-bou, and it's getting stronger every day. I'm never letting go. Don't care if the sky breaks open and spills everything it's got on our heads. We're meant to be together,” I say, my voice deepening an octave, pulling her closer in my arms. “A lot can happen when you get married as young as us. I'm ready, and I know you are too. Long as we remember everything we said here today, everything we promised, we'll make it. No doubt. I promise, babe, you're mine forever.”
“I promise, too.” It's the last little sound she makes before I wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks with my lips.
“Turn it over. Look inside,” I say, clasping the ring in her hand with mine, bringing it up to our faces.
Always, my love. Always, always, always.
I agonized over the text for weeks. Then I realized there was only one word fit for telling her how I really feel, one that won't ever change, no matter what the universe throws our way.
Overwhelmed, she leans in, kissing me again. Her mouth tastes hot, wet, desperate. I love it, every single brush of her lips on mine, our oneness overflowing in every sticky fusion.
My fingers cup her face, pulling her into me, dancing across the tiny scar she has from a gym class mishap a year ago. They were playing golf, and her friend, Zoe, wound up her swing too much. One blow to the face later, she's marked forever. I remember Bart bringing his little girl home from the emergency room, while Matt and I scrambled to help with ice.
I held the pack against her face while the stitches set. Many months later, it's healed nicely. The kind of perfectly imperfect scar that gives a man one more thing to fall in love with.
We kiss for another five minutes, her on my lap, the sun peeking out one more time through the rain to salute us. Then we're heading downstairs, walking through the cold, wet bullets to my car.
Hand-in-hand, we're engaged. And we're about to make this official at our hotel, loving each other in ways far more exciting than gold and diamonds will ever be.
Two hours later, she's laid out on top of the sheets. Naked as the day she was born, and goddamned beautiful.
My cock doesn't need more than a second to turn into granite. Never does when her hands or mouth are anywhere near it, really. Except today, a charging bull couldn't knock down the hard-on pulsing between my legs.
I let her undress me before she laid down. Her little hands rolled up my shirt, undid my belt, and pushed down my jeans.
She gasped when she saw the new tattoos lining my shoulders, falling down my back like flaming swords. It's ink I've been slowly expanding whenever I have a little extra money. I love the fire because it reminds me to keep everything I've worked for burning bright on the tinder of my past.
I smiled at her knowingly, told her she could kiss it, scratch it, drag her tongue across the fire any way she liked.
My tattoos mean I don't look back. Not at the abuse that sticks in my head some long, dark nights from my real parents – both of them junkies who left me alone most days in a ratty Detroit apartment. Not at the three sets of assholes who couldn't be bothered to make up for it, three bad foster families who starved me, kicked my ass, and used me as a government ticket to more booze. Not at the orphanage, or the system that failed me, because I turned out pretty good in spite of it.
Greg and Sally did the best, lazy drunks that they are. At least they weren't violent, and that isn't saying much. The last set of boozers to put a roof over my head left me on my own as long as I cleaned their dirty house. They did me a solid by bringing me to Split Harbor, though, because without their shit I wouldn't be standing here today, looking at the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, my cock in my hand.
I'm ready to claim the only woman I've ever loved – only one ever I will.
I move onto the bed and grab her legs, throwing them over my shoulders. She moans softly, closing her eyes. Doesn't take much to get her going today. Nothing except the faintest touch.
It's normally like that with the little things we've done before, yeah, but this is something special. She's shaking. She can't believe it, and neither can I, but the only cure is to fuck right through until it's real.
Nothing will stop me now. Her soft, silky skin feels so fucking hot.
I kiss her skin, inhaling long and hard, filling my lungs with her scent. My eyes shift down to the sweet swollen pussy I'm about to own.
She smells incredible. My tongue burns, instinctively telling me she's going to taste even sweeter.
It'll be my first time sucking her supple little cunt, fucking her with my tongue. Can't hold in the smile when I think how she's going to jerk and scream once I get her going.
“Ryan...please!” she whimpers, her legs shaking gently in my hands, trying to pull apart.
Yes, please, baby girl. Her desperation makes my dick throb harder, and I feel a pearly drop of pre-come oozing out, landing on her thigh.
“What if I want to hear you beg a little longer?” I tease, knowing full well I'm playing with fire. If I don't do something soon, I'm going to shoot off on the bed like a fucking rookie.
My worst nightmare, something I'
ve done everything I can to prevent with all the porn I've watched, my hand, and two girls I had before we met.
They're nothing compared to her. She's immaculate, sexy, her hips and tits calling me like sirens in the soft light.
“Keep your legs open,” I order, grabbing her thighs with my hands, pulling them wider.
She whimpers when my fingers dig in. It's a prelude to the places where my lips land, falling across her sleek inner thighs.
Up, up, heading straight for her wetness, the cherry pink center between that's drawing my tongue like a magnet.
I kiss her pussy once. The sound she makes – a little half-whimper, half-moan – pours kerosene on the fire in my balls.
I need to eat this girl.
I need to fuck her.
One fine day, I really need to put my seed inside her, empty myself deep in her hot, wet cunt. Imagining how she'll look someday with her breasts and belly swollen from my kid sends a jolt down my spine.
Everything inside me turns rough and primal, ready to hijack every single inch of her.
No more teasing. I push my face hard against her steaming center, tasting the sweetness I've been thinking about all night.
“Ryan!' My name comes out like a curse and a prayer on her lips.
Doesn't she know it only makes me want to take her harder? I'm smiling when her whimpers get harsher, louder, turning into screams.
I lick up and down, toying with her virgin cherry, taking her apart with my tongue. My mouth tells me she's insanely tight. My pulse hammers in my cock twice as fast while I lick, suck, and bring my tongue against her clit, painting it with pleasure.
It takes maybe ten strokes there before she comes. My Kara tenses like a spring.
Every fucking muscle in her beautiful body goes taut before she grinds against my face, trembles, and loses herself in my tongue.
Three words hit my ears while I'm growling against her convulsing pussy, licking her as fast and hard as humanly possible. I can't stop. I want to eat her until I'm all that's on her mind; morning, noon, and night.
Her head flips back, and she screams.
“Ryan!”
“Fuck!”
“Yes!”
Those words threaten to blister my ears. My lips and tongue are so busy against her clit I can't smile anymore. Inwardly, I'm glowing. I just heard the last three sounds I want to remember on my deathbed.
Her thighs keep trying to close with the pleasure overwhelming her. I hold them open, digging my fingers harder into her skin, keeping her apart so my tongue can bring her off as long and hard as her body allows.
There's no mercy here. No sweetness.
Not tonight, when I'm about to fuck my lovely wife-to-be for the very first time. Not when it seems like the entire universe is singing our song, from the furious rhythm in our hearts to the fire roaring in our veins.
I don't let up on her delectable cunt until she's breathless, literally gasping for air. Then I have to break myself away, or I'm going to die between her legs, and that would be a tragedy without having my cock there first.
I'm looking down, admiring her while I lick the last of her sweetness from my lips. Kara's eyes are lidded, and her tits roll on her chest, rising and falling in shallow waves as she tries to catch her breath. Reaching down, I cup her chin, bringing my lips to hers.
She tastes so good I want her to share it. Lord knows she's done the same for me many times after sucking me off with those perfect lips – our favorite past time, up until now.
“You come beautiful, babe. Don't know if it's because you're more turned on tonight, or if it's because you're about to be my wife.” I whisper softly in her ear, the first of many sexy, sweet praises I'm going to be singing her until the universe itself goes cold. “I love you, Kara-bou. Are you ready?”
Her green eyes open, their energy returning. It's not really a question. The next word out of her mouth better be yes, or I'm going to stroke myself off and spill my come all over her.
I can't wait to have her pussy wrapped around me anymore.
I can't. Can't. Just fucking can't.
“Yes...” She says the magic word, reaching up to brush my face with her fingertips.
I always try to keep a faint shadow of stubble on my face. She loves it when it brushes her skin.
“Ryan,” she purrs, slowly opening her legs while I reach for the box of condoms on the nightstand. “I've imagined this a thousand times. You don't have a clue.”
I'm smiling because she's flat-out wrong about that. If she's dreamed about sex a thousand times, then I've stroked myself at least double, always thinking about how she'll feel wrapped around me when I blow.
“Yeah? And how's it holding up?” I ask, unsure if I really care about the answer as I tear the foil with my teeth, then roll the latex down my throbbing shaft.
“Fantasies were never this good.” Her eyes go wider, and she looks at me intently, forming her mouth into a seductive little O. There's something wicked coming over her, and I think I like it. “Fuck me, Ryan. Show me what it means to wear your ring.”
Oh, hell.
She doesn't know what she's asking with those words. That look. That perfectly sexy set of lips that doesn't ever need to ask.
“We'll go slow, baby,” I say. My skin tingles when I hear her moan, pressing the full, thick length of my dick against her opening.
She's as ready for me as she'll ever be. I remember to ease her into it, fighting my baser instincts to give her all of me, hard and fast.
She's never done this before. I've only done it a few times. Every woman, including her, tells me I'm big. Judging by how the jealous pricks at Split Harbor High used to stare at me in the locker room after gym, I know it's true.
I take some pride in my size, but nothing boosts my ego more than staring into her eyes, knowing I'm claiming a woman who deserves every inch.
The swollen tip of my cock rubs her slit. I suck her bottom lip between my teeth, savoring the moment before I'm in her. I brush her cheek with one hand, grazing the little scar from her golfing accident.
“Please, Ryan. Please!” She's whimpering now, laying her legs over mine, running her feet down my calves.
Our eyes click. I swear we can see the electricity charting the space between us.
My hips roll forward. I'm pushing in her, one furious inch at a time, and fuck it feels good.
She cries out, locking her legs around me, pulling me deeper. Something gives way around my cock, and I see her scrunch her face up. Uncomfortable, but urging me on.
We don't let hell itself stop us now. Her incredible pussy hugs me so tight I can feel it through the condom, constricting around my cock every second I push just a little deeper.
“Good?” I stop to kiss her again before I let her answer.
I know it has to hurt, stretching around me like this. But the way she's panting, the way her nipple softens when I roll it between my fingertips, tells me there's pleasure waiting for us, and it's going to be like nothing we've had before.
“Don't. Stop.” Two little words leave her mouth, all she can manage, and she hugs me with her legs harder. “Fuck me, Ryan.”
She never swears, except when we're alone. Hearing her curse feeds the inferno in my blood. This side of her is mine.
Mine alone, and hell, do I love it.
My hips go wild, crashing into her like waves. Love and lust collide like a mad scientist's cocktail in my blood, and I'm thrusting into her good and deep, setting a rhythm that's going to carry us to ecstasy. I only pause to put my lips on hers, steal the pleasure from her lungs, and growl while my tongue sweeps hers.
Soon, we've found our pace. We're fucking so good, just like we were always meant to. I won't last long at this rate, fire welling up in my balls.
Kara can't either. Her nails find the flames on my shoulders, using them as targets, sinking into my skin as her pleasure boils over.
Her eyes flutter open just enough for me to see them roll. My woman, my
wife, my baby comes on my dick, so hard her pussy squeezes me. The world's softest flesh pulls at my cock, begging me to join her in release.
Who am I to say no? What red blooded man in his right mind would?
I drive down deep, slamming into her with everything I've got, slapping her little ass with my balls. The flames inked on my shoulders come alive, sending energy straight down my back, igniting every nerve.
Pure magma churns at the base of my cock, before erupting a second later. “Kara!”
“Ryan!”
Her name is all I can manage. There's nothing but thunder in my throat the whole time as I spill myself into her, coming in the woman I'm going to marry for the first time, the first and only love of my life.
Everything goes white, the sound of our groans fading from my ears, and there's nothing except my cock heaving fire to the thud-thud-thud of our hearts. I'm coming a hundred times harder than I ever have with my hand. Harder than I ever did with the other chicks I messed with before.
Hell, none of them are in the same universe as this.
Yeah, I'm man enough to admit the touchy-feely shit adds something amazing to the storm. If this sex is mind blowing because my heart bangs my ribs a hundred miles an hour every time I look at her under me, because every voice inside me is howling to claim this girl from the inside out, tonight and forever, then I don't want a damned thing to do with heartless fucking ever again.
I stay in her while I'm coming down from the high, listening to her breathe, subtly matching her tempo. It takes more than a minute before I soften, caressing and kissing her the whole time. I pull out, carefully unroll the condom, and throw it in the little waste bin across the room.
“Well?” she says, propped up on one elbow, bringing her free hand to my chest to draw circles. “Was it everything you expected?”
Just my luck, the little minx has remembered how to speak faster than me. I give her a slow, smiling glance. “No.”
Her eyes go wide, full of horror. I wrap an arm around her, drag her lips to mine, and lay down a kiss before I rest my forehead on hers.
“It was more, Kara-Bou. So much fucking more.” I watch the relieved smile spread across her face. “Best part is, we've got all night to explore.”
