I’d never felt so happy or complete as I did in his embrace.
His love for me hurt my heart.
Tackling me, Arthur rubbed his five o’clock shadow over my cheek. “No matter how many times I have you, I’ll never stop being awed by how beautiful you are.” His lips touched mine, pressing me into the mattress. “After all this time. You’re mine.”
I didn’t have time to respond as his hand dropped between my legs, brushing against my core. He growled when he found how wet I was.
I gasped as he pushed a finger inside me. “I’ve been yours since I was five.” My hips bucked and I stopped thinking.
All I focused on was Arthur. My Libran. My lover.
Arthur climbed on top of me, fisting the heavy weight of his erection and coating his tip in my wetness.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he panted in my mouth as we both gasped at the delicious friction. Heat sprung over my skin that had nothing to do with the island warmth.
“I want you, Buttercup.”
“You have me.”
He shook his head, tracing his tongue over my bottom lip as he sank inside me slowly, effortlessly, coming home where he belonged.
I moaned as he settled his weight over me, holding my head in his hands as he jammed his elbows in the mattress on either side of my ears.
“I want you forever.”
“I am yours forever.”
Again, he shook his head. “I know that. You know that. But fate … I’m not so sure …”
I frowned, worried at the intensity in his gaze. “What do you mean?”
He rocked, hitting the perfect place inside, spiraling me into a whirlpool of lust. “Fate brought us tougher. It tested us. It took away everything, then gave so much back.”
I cupped his face just like he cupped mine. Holding him like that felt as if I held his very soul. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed. “When we die, we’ll have to start all over again.”
“It will start all over again because even though we’re fated to be together, it’s not official. You’re still a Price.”
My tummy twisted as my thoughts raced. Was he …
“I want you as my wife. Not just as my old lady—shit, I don’t have a Club anymore so that means nothing. I want you as my wife. I want you to wear my name. I want vows to bind us for eternity. I want there to be no doubt that we belong to each other irrevocably.”
Tears tickled my eyes as I arched up and kissed him. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
He half chuckled, half gasped; his eyes glittered with emotion. “Do you want me on one knee?” His hips pulsed, making us both groan with pleasure.
I shook my head. “No, I like this method.”
He smiled. “You can’t run away from me while I’m inside you.” Dropping his head, he nuzzled into my neck. “You can’t say no.”
I clutched his head to me, wrapping my legs around him, reminding myself that no other woman had embraced this man. No other woman had the right to his body, heart, or mind. Not since I captured it that fateful day in our youth.
“I could say no … if I wanted.”
He reared back, fear striking the depths of his eyes. “What?”
I laughed quietly. “In my mind, we were married the day you gave me my mood ring. That was the day I bound my soul to yours.”
Arthur grabbed my hand with the ring on it—the fake metal was tarnished and the stone waterlogged from all the swimming we’d done in the bay, but I wouldn’t take it off. I loved having it there. It was a constant reminder that we’d fought and won.
“I’ll ask you this one last time, Buttercup, and watch what you say because if I don’t like your answer, I’ll deny you an orgasm and leave you miserable.”
I wrinkled my nose, rocking my hips. “Now, that wouldn’t be fair.”
He growled as I dropped my hands and dug my nails into his ass, forcing him to thrust into me. “Goddammit, you keep doing that and I’ll come.”
I smiled wickedly. “I bet I can make you come before you can make me say yes.”
His gaze lit up with challenge. “Is that so?”
I nodded, already thrilling and regretting the gauntlet I’d set.
Arthur suddenly sat up, dragging me with him to straddle his lap. His cock hit the top of me and I flew closer to a release.
“Marry me, Cleo Price. Become Mrs. Killian and let me keep you forever.” His face contorted as he thrust hard, burying himself inside me.
I moaned, gripping his strong shoulders. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
A tortured groan echoed in his chest as he clamped my hips and drove deeper, faster. Every rock tightened my muscles, determining who would win the bet.
Our breathing weaved together as we locked bodies and gave into instinct—the basest need to join and bond and love.
“Please, Cleo …,” he growled, his thrusts becoming faster, primal. “Fucking marry me, woman.”
My head fell back as his cock stretched me in perfect ways. I rode him as he rode me, living in glitter and stardust as my orgasm sharpened.
Arthur’s fingers dug into my thighs, holding me, driving deeper inside me. “Say yes.”
I smiled. “You’re not trying hard enough.” Grabbing his hair, I locked eyes with him.
Green to green.
Soul to soul.
“Come for me, Art. Then I’ll marry you.”