“Is your business really going that well?” I ask.
He chuckles. “I haven’t started my management business yet. But I’ve been clever with my money over the years. Military living is cheap if you do it right. I’ve been buying real estate for years. I’ve got my SEAL pension. And I’m going to work my ass off to transfer my SEAL techniques to the business world.”
“You sound confident,” I mutter.
“I am,” he growls. “A man like me – a man who’s seen what I’ve seen and live what I’ve lived – has to be. So say yes, Tessa.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Do you think I want you to work jobs you hate for the rest of your life?” he growls. “I hate the idea of you not having a phone that works, a car that works. You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with things like that when you’ve got so much talent just waiting to burst into the world.”
His passion ignites an answering flare inside of me, impossible to refute or ignore. It’s like he’s reached into my mind and plucked all my deepest desires, putting them into words in a way I’d never dare to.
I don’t deserve to think like that, I’d tell myself…
I don’t deserve to wish for something more when so many people would kill for the little I already have.
But as Trent stares at me, I begin to feel the truth of his words rising inside of me, until I’m overflowing with certainty.
Yes, he’s right. Maybe I do deserve this.
“Okay,” I say. “But only if you’re sure…”
“Sure?” He slides his hands around my hips and lower, to my ass, palming big greedy handfuls that make my skin burn. “The only thing I’m more sure of is how perfect this ass is. Fucking hell, move against my hands, push it out.”
“Like this?” I moan, no longer caring that we’re standing in a forest, forgetting about my nerves in the onrushing crazy goodness of this moment.
I push my ass against his hands and he groans throatily, huskily.
“I could spend the rest of my life palming and playing with these big juicy ass cheeks and die a happy man. You have no idea what you to do me.”
Don’t do it, a voice hisses inside of me when the thought strikes. You’ll make a fool of yourself.
I push away the nerves and move my hand to his groin, touching the massive throbbing outline of his dick, pressing against his pants.
“I think I have some idea,” I whimper.
It was supposed to come out sassy and confident, but my voice shivers as I grip onto the unbelievable size of him. I remember how huge he was when he stood over the bed, the way his cock pointed straight up it was so hard, veins moving up and down it, pulsing, hungry.
“Fuck,” he snarls. “You eager horny thing. Tell me you’re ready, Snapshot. I need to feel that hole. I need to feel how tight and excited you are. Tell me you’re ready.”
“Ah,” I moan, as his hand slaps against my ass in a kissing spank.
“You like that, don’t you?” he growls.
“Yeah,” I sigh breathily. “But not too hard. Just enough to make it feel…”
I whimper when he spanks me again, his lips twitched knowingly, his eyes consuming me.
“Enough to feel like your fantasies?” he finishes for me.
“Yes,” I cry, loving how easily he can read me. “Oh, God. Trent. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m ready, I think I am. But what if I’m not enough? Or what if you’re too much?”
He might not fit into my untouched hole. I don’t know. He’s so massive.
“You don’t need to overthink this,” he snarls as I keep rubbing him over his pants, squeezing onto the thick solidity of him, stunned at how huge he feels in my hand. “Our bodies want this. My seed, your womb… fuck it, I don’t care if it sounds crazy. Fate wants us to do this, Snapshot. Don’t worry. I’ll lead the way. I’ll show you how sexy you are.”
I look up at him, studying the glint in his eyes, shining in the moonlight. I search for any sign of deceit or any reason I shouldn’t trust and believe him.
There isn’t any. All I see is confidence and possession and us as if our entire future relationship – children and marriage and love – is shimmering across his expression.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Show me, Trent.”
I giggle when he sweeps me off my feet, carrying me as though I’m weightless. I’m flying through the air, over the pines, and then across the platform toward the cabin.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and lay my head against his chest, biting my lip so I don’t blurt the sentence that tries to erupt out of my mouth.
Oh, Trent, I imagine myself saying. It feels like our wedding night, like when you’ll carry me across the threshold.
But just like the L-word is a no-no, so are comments like that. Maybe he’d react warmly and maybe he’d feel the same…
Or maybe he’d drop me and laugh.
I force the sentiment down, focusing on this moment instead, and this moment alone.
I laugh in delight when he drops me onto the bed. The lamps are lit, sending a warm yellow glow across the room, and the heater is on, softly infusing the room with a warmth that makes me want to strip all my clothes off.
Or perhaps that has more to do with the sight of Trent standing over the bed, his face tight as he stares at me, his eyes moving over my legs and then up to my face.
“I almost want you to keep that dress on,” he growls, leaning down and sliding his hand up my thigh. “But fucking hell. I know how incredible you look naked.”
He grabs the hem of the dress and pulls it up, up over my body, and then over my head. I lift my arms to help him.
He tosses the dress to the
