“I’m never going to have enough of you, Gianna,” he whispered, nuzzling a taut peak.
He tasted and tantalized, using his tongue to drive her wild. First one breast, then the other, until Gia found herself writhing under him. The sweet relentless torture had her biting her lip to keep from sobbing.
He moved back up her body and when he gripped his shaft, she thought that the torture had come to an end. “Let’s make sure you can be quiet,” he said, a quiet rumble in her ear. He pressed himself against the damp fabric of her underwear and Gia moaned.
“That’s why we’re practicing,” Beckett said, clamping a hand over her mouth. He ground his hips into her and this time her moan was muffled by his palm.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
He lowered his head to recapture the tip of her breast and continued his short thrusts against her. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more from him. She wanted to feel every inch of his thick shaft buried in her, stretching her until she could take no more.
But his attack was relentless.
With every stroke, he swept the head of his penis over her swollen mound and Gia saw stars. She’d never come like this before, but knew that she would tonight.
With a deft tug, he pulled her underwear to the side and grunted as her slick folds welcomed his swollen crown.
The skin-to-skin contact destroyed her.
Beckett stroked himself against her and Gia came, arching up violently. Her lips moving against his palm in a silent scream.
“God, I love how you come for me.” Beckett’s voice was strained, breathless. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and kissed her, so gently. “I love you, Gianna. Tell me you’re mine.”
Gia lifted her hips for him as he yanked her underwear from her. “Tell me, baby. Say you’re mine.”
Beckett held himself positioned just outside of her entrance. Trembling, he waited.
Gia grasped one of his hands and pulled it to her breast where her heart thundered for him.
“I’m yours, Beckett. I belong to you.”
Finally, finally. He thrust into her, staking his claim.
Gia buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. She was his. He fought for her and won.
“You’re mine, my beautiful Gianna.” He whispered the words over and over again as he began to move in her like music, a dance as old as time. She welcomed him into her.
His mouth met hers and she feasted on his lips, his tongue. The heat of their love warmed every dark corner of her heart, freed her. She felt the light as it spread through her body, gilded and glowing.
His gaze locked with hers as he drove into her again and again. “I love you, my Gianna.”
She felt the words in her soul, in her body. The vibrations set off a chain reaction. As her body gave itself to him, the last shield fell away from her heart. “I love you, Beckett.” She whispered the words as they came together. Beckett, fully sheathed in her, shuddered his release into her as she fell apart around him.
This was love, this was life. They belonged to each other with an unbreakable bond forged of heartbeats and breath, of forgiveness and faith.
They whispered the words over and over again long after the last waves had receded.
Gia’s eyes fluttered open to the sunny morning light. She smelled … breakfast? The giggles of Evan and Aurora floated into her room and she started to wiggle out from under the quilt when a distinct sparkle caught her eye.
Her fairy garden, the first thing she saw every morning, was different. A third polished rock rested front and center, the word love etched into its smooth surface.
And on it rested a fairytale diamond ring.
Gia shot out of bed, her shaking hands nearly upending the globe as she reached inside.
It was real. Cool to the touch, the emerald cut center stone picked up the morning sun in rainbows of sparkle.
Was this really happening?
Clutching the ring in her hand, she hastily pulled on shorts and last night’s tank top and opened her bedroom doors. She paused in the doorway to take it all in.
Beckett in pajama pants and a t-shirt had a dishtowel draped over his shoulder and was expertly flipping pancakes to Evan and Aurora’s delight.
He scooped one up with a spatula and tossed it onto Evan’s plate. Her son was ready and waiting with the syrup.
The next one landed on Aurora’s plate. “Wow!” she gasped.
“Wait ’til Mom sees these,” Evan said. “Heart-shaped pancakes. That’ll kill her.”
Gia brought her fingers to her mouth. It was so blissfully normal. Sunday morning family breakfast. And Evan called her “mom.”
She felt the tears prick her eyes.
Beckett spotted her first and the rush of love she felt in her chest was echoed in his face. He lit up just looking at her. She mattered to him. They all did.
“Told you she’d cry,” Evan muttered to Beckett.
Beckett smacked him lightly with the spatula. “Don’t you have homework to do or robots to build?” he teased Evan.