With You (Without You #2)

by Marley Valentine

We stare at one another, for the first time finally allowing ourselves to truly look at each other. Taking in the magnitude of what we’re both wearing and what we’re about to finally do. Deacon is dressed in a navy blue suit, with black lapels and a black bow tie. I thought there was nothing better than my fiancé, the mechanic, coming home covered in oil and grease, with a white t-shirt stretched over his beautifully defined chest, but this might just be the winner. Because this is all for me.

“On paper we are nothing more than roadblock after roadblock after roadblock. But in reality?” I watch a smile filled with confidence and adoration stretch across his face, despite his unshed tears. “In reality, loving you is living.”

“There aren’t enough words in the English language to convey just how grateful I am for you choosing me, for loving me and allowing me to love you.” I bring our interlaced hands to my lips and kiss his fingers. “You continue to be the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. You are worthy and you are special, and I’ve never been more grateful to call someone mine.”

The kiss picks up in pace, soft and gentle morphing into deep and determined. It’s our past and our present and our future. It’s the flutter of anticipation in my stomach, and the heat swimming in my veins. It’s every exchanged promise, every loud declaration, every hard earned moment of our love. It’s him and me. Julian and Deacon. “Husbands,” he murmurs against my lips. Smiling, I echo, “Husbands.”

I’ve never felt more like myself than I have with Julian, and our compatibility and chemistry together solidifies that even more. When you’re with your best friend, there is no embarrassment, shame, or awkwardness. Sex can be both fun and absolute fire; we can lust and laugh all in the same breath.

Upon my return, Julian is sitting on the edge of the mattress, stroking himself. I haphazardly throw the bottle on the bed and kneel between his spread legs. He cards his fingers through my hair as I begin to trail kisses up the inside of his thigh. I bury my face in his groin, breathing him in, the whole day somehow narrowing down to this very moment. I live for him, and not in a he’s-the-only-reason-I’m-alive way but that everything I do is for him, to make him feel cherished and wanted and loved. Me on my knees, vowing to love and worship him. “This…” Despite my arousal, my voice is laced with so much emotion, it almost feels hard to breathe. “This is where I want to start and end every day. With you.”

“Want my cock?” he taunts. I clench around him. “Like my next breath.”

“Let me watch you fall apart, baby,” he says. “I want to see you come on my cock.’

“I love you,” he says against my lips, our bodies flush, his cock buried deep. “I love being so wrapped up in you that your heart beats for us and my lungs breathe for us. There is no beginning and no end, there’s just you and me.”

Deacon brings his hands up to cup my face, lowering his mouth to mine. “I know where you belong.” Kiss. “You know where I belong“ Kiss. “Rhett knows where you belong.” Kiss. “You’re my heart.” Kiss. “My world.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss. “Mine.”

“Yes. If I can make you come in less than five minutes, I win.” “You win what?” “Your cum down my throat.”

I chuckle as Reese hands Julian the anniversary sign, then slips her small hand into mine. She leads me to the kitchen where the sight of Rowan flipping pancakes has my heart wanting to burst right through my chest.

REESE AND ROWAN I AM GONNA CRY

He’s nearing forty-five years old, and looking at him still makes my heart stutter and my body light up like a live wire. He has a smattering of gray on his temples and in his beard, making him look both distinguished and sexy. And laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth that I enjoyed putting there.

He rears his head back to lock his eyes with mine. “Make me yours?” “Always,” I promise. Only him and me. Me and him. Husbands.