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“Spread your legs wider for me.”
Without hesitation, I obey his command.
Weston removes his jeans, pushing them down to his thighs. He slides his cock up and down my slick pussy.
“You’re dripping, gorgeous,” he mutters. “Look at you covering me.”
His tip brushes against my clit. Carefully, he bends his knees and holds my thigh, slamming into me in one hard thrust. He stretches me so wide that I nearly scream out with satisfaction. I adjust to him as he fucks me up against the cool brick wall at a relentless pace.
“This is what I wanted. What I craved,” I hiss.
“Taking every fucking inch of me,” he says into my ear.
I feel him everywhere, in all the places he was earlier. His cock hits my sweet spot as he claims me.
I’m his, and he’s mine.
I’m pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, as he fucks me so good that I nearly lose my balance again.
“You belong to me, Weston,” I say as I cling to him like he will disappear.
“I’m yours,” he confesses.
His thrusts grow erratic. His breath is hot on my skin, and I feel the pressure building. Without hesitation, his thumb returns to my clit, giving me everything I need.
I come hard; my pussy clenches around him. He groans against me, pumping deep inside me. Warmth spreads through me as pleasure takes over.
We’re breathless and sticky with sweat. He possessively kisses me.
“I lose control with you,” I admit breathlessly when our eyes open.
“Because it’s easy,” he says.
Weston helps me clean up with a few paper towels in the closet. Just as we button and zip our jeans, the door swings open. It’s a security guard.
Weston takes my hand, and we run down the hallway, laughing, guilty as fuck. We turn the corner, and Weston pushes me up against the wall, kissing me.
“I love you,” he says, taking the extra few seconds to meet my eyes.
“I love you,” I repeat, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
I hear footsteps moving closer, and I grab his hand, pulling him away.
“Hey! Y’all come back here,” the guard hollers.
We bolt out a side exit door and move around the side of the building, and he kisses me again.
As he laughs against my mouth, he says, “I can’t fucking wait to make you my wife.”
“Tomorrow,” I say, seeing my grandmother’s car in the distance. “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me?”
“Never been surer about anything in my entire fucking life,” Weston says, kissing my nose.
I smile, but then my brows furrow. “Did you hear that?”
Weston turns around, and that’s when I spot a pap across the way with a lens.
“Fuck,” he hisses, taking my hand and leading me away.