Page 147 of Rescued
“You have to marry me.”
I laugh. “I’ve been telling you for months that I’m going to marry you.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
Frowning, I nod. “Uh, yes, I have.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He groans. “You scrambled my brain. Let me rephrase. Will you marry me?”
My throat goes dry, my heart thundering in my ears. “Are you proposing to me, baby boy?”
The words are barely more than a whisper, and I can hardly hear them myself over the sounds of blood rushing through my head, but Arlo must hear them because he smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Jasper, will you please marry me?”
I gape at him, my jaw dropping. “You… I was supposed to do that. You said you wanted romance. I was planning romance.”
A mischievous smirk stretches his lips. “What is it they said in your day? You snooze, you lose?”
An incredulous laugh bursts from my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? You completely stole my—”
“Are you gonna put me out of my misery and agree or what?” Arlo says, and this time a hint of fear flashes in his eyes.
“Yes, Arlo. I’ll marry you. God, nothing would make me happier.”
Tears well up in his eyes instantly. “Sorry for stealing your proposal. I just—” His voice breaks on the word. “I figured maybe I could chase you for once instead of making you chase me.”
I lean in, brushing my lips over his. “My sweet baby boy. God, I fucking love you.”
He hums against my lips. “I love you too. So much.”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time. I want to wrap Arlo up in my arms and keep him there forever. I want to merge our souls so we never have to be apart.
Arlo deepens our gentle kiss, and it turns more needy—our teeth clacking together and our tongues sloppy and seeking.
He moans, sinking his fingers into my hair and tugging, jerking my head back so he has access to my throat, and places open-mouthed kisses along the skin—sucking and nibbling and grazing his teeth along my pulse point.
I thrust against him, my cock rock hard and leaking. I could have him forever, and it would never be enough.
I’m so lost in him that it takes me a second to realize that he’s pushing against my shoulders. Raising myself up, I look down at him.
His eyes are half-lidded, and his lips are wet and swollen from kissing. He looks so fucking beautiful that it nearly takes my breath away. “What’s wrong, baby boy?”
“Not a single thing.” He drags his teeth over his plump bottom lip. “Roll over. I want to make love to my fiancé.”
My heart stutters. “Your fiancé.”
He huffs. “Yes. Is that not what we just agreed on?”
“It definitely is.” I roll off him and fall to my back, already missing the way he felt against me. It doesn’t last more than a second before he’s sprawled out on top of me. “Hearing you say it, though? Fuck, baby boy, you have no idea what that does to me.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” he whispers, lowering his face to my throat. “And I’m gonna say it all the time.” He grinds against my hip, whimpering into my skin as he presses a kiss to my Adam’s apple. “Every day.” My dick jerks, and I thrustup, rocking against him. “Until the day I get to call you my husband.”
The moan that rips out of my chest surprises even me. Listening to him talk like that—with so much certainty about our future—is unreal.
“Get undressed,” he whispers, then rolls off me.
Our clothes come flying off in a flurry, and as soon as I’m naked, Arlo is spreading my legs and settling between them. I barely have time to take a breath before he’s sucking my cock to the back of his throat. He gags a little but doubles down, looking up to make eye contact with me.
“You look so beautiful, baby boy,” I rasp out, reaching down to slide my fingers into his hair. His eyes flutter for a second. “Your mouth is fucking sinful. I could spend the rest of my life buried in your sweet throat.”
