Sarah’s body flooded with heat and her channel clenched hard. Looking into Dante’s fierce gaze, she knew she wouldn’t last long. She would say it. More than likely, she’d be screaming it. “Tell me first,” she requested.
“I love you,” he said readily, his head lowering so that his warm breath wafted over her temple. “Now say you’re going to marry me.”
She was. Oh yes, she was. She wanted this delirious pleasure for the rest of her life, and she wanted this demanding but sweet man to be the father of her children someday. But mostly, she wanted him to be hers.
Shivering as his fingers moved down to stroke the wet, sensitive flesh between her thighs, she squeaked, “I want to marry you.”
“And you love me,” he declared hoarsely. “Tell me.” His fingers found and caressed her clit.
Sarah’s head fell back against the wall, giving Dante better access to her neck, and his tongue stroked over her skin, leaving a path down her neck that had her squirming. “I love you,” she moaned, pulling his head down by his hair to kiss him.
He stopped teasing her and lifted her by the ass until she could feel his stiff cock probing between her legs. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he released her wrists, positioning himself and plunging into her channel at the same time his tongue was invading her mouth. He wasn’t gentle as he matched his pummeling thrusts to the thrusts of his tongue, but the last thing she wanted right now was tenderness. Sarah wanted affirmation, proof that this was happening, that he’d really come back because he loved her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she speared her fingers through his hair, her body clamoring for everything he had to give.
He pulled his mouth from hers, his chest heaving. “Say it,” he urged forcefully, pounding his cock into her tight sheath again.
Sarah was on the precipice, ready to tip. “I love you, Dante. I love you so much,” she choked out as her channel starting to clench around him. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on tight as her body started to tremble with the force of her climax.
“There’ll never be another woman for me but you,” Dante groaned, burying himself deep inside her, his hot release flowing out of his body and into hers.
Sarah panted as she went limp in Dante’s arms. He walked with her to the couch in the living room and collapsed with a masculine sigh, bringing her down with him. Sarah rolled to his side, her body trapped between his unyielding, muscular body and the back of the couch.
Luxuriating in her warm haven and the feel of Dante against her, she traced the muscles on his sculpted chest, her face glowing with exertion and joy. “I just want you to be happy,” she said solemnly, still worried that Dante was giving up a job he loved. “You love your job.”
He wrapped a muscular arm around her and rolled to face her. “I am happy. Happier than I ever thought I’d be. And I did like what I did in Los Angeles, but I wasn’t happy. I think I was obsessed with it because it was all I had. Patrick used to tell me if I didn’t slow down, I was going to burn out by the age of thirty. I’d spend some nights in the office when I didn’t need to, going over evidence that I’d already been over a hundred times before. Now I wonder if it wasn’t because I had nothing at home to look forward to. I had friends, but I was only ever really close to Patrick.”
Sarah’s heart ached for this man who had been in a big city, surrounded by close to four million people, and had still felt alone. She could empathize very well. She’d probably been the loneliest woman in Chicago. “I felt empty, too. I guess I was just waiting for you.”
“You found me. Now what are you going to do with me?” he asked.
“Love you,” she sighed happily.
“Show me?” he requested in a rare, vulnerable voice.
Sarah pulled his mouth to hers and proceeded to do exactly that for the rest of the day.
EPILOGUE
“She’s coming to the wedding,” Sarah said as she hung up the phone, astonished.
She and Dante had finally come up for air on Sunday, and Sarah had listened to her messages, knowing she had to return her mother’s call. Elaine Baxter had called five times. Sarah had finally picked up the phone to call her back, dreading the conversation.
She couldn’t say that her mother had actually been ecstatic about the fact that Sarah wasn’t marrying a Mensa candidate, but she’d actually agreed to attend her wedding to Dante.
After Sarah had firmly told her mother that she loved Dante, and that she was marrying him, Elaine Baxter had broken down and told Sarah how much she had loved her husband, Sarah’s father, and how badly it had hurt to lose him so young. The conversation had still been stilted, but it was the first time her mother had really told Sarah that she’d loved her father.
“Is her coming to the wedding a good or bad thing?” Dante asked carefully, seated on the couch with Coco on his lap.