Page 67 of Dual Surrender

Eased my ass open with his skilled and talented fingers, then fucked me until I shook with the need to come. Then he swallowed the evidence of my pleasure into the back of his throat and tucked me into bed with kisses and the promise to do better, to do more.

Kevin gave me everything I needed, everything I would have asked of him had I found the words to articulate what had been missing for me. He demonstrated care and thought and, most of all, intent.

He served me well.

The alarm went off Thursday morning before the sun crept through the window, and I reached for him, pulling his back against my chest and burying my face into his neck.

“I’ll be late,” he murmured.

I kissed the spot behind his ear, tightening my hold before letting him go. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?”

“Go back to sleep,” Kevin said, climbing out of bed and arranging the covers back around me. “I can do this.”

“I don’t like it.” I rolled onto my back and folded my hands together behind the back of my head. He padded into the closet, flicking on the light. It cast a bright glow across half of the room, falling short of the bed.

“It’s just a cab ride.” Kevin turned off the light and reappeared…dressed.

“That’s not what I meant.” I slid back so I was half sitting. “I don’t like you leaving. I want you to. I need you to. But I don’t like it.”

Kevin pursed his lips and gave me a rough nod. I could see the way it pained him to remain silent. To not contradict me or argue. I admired the way he dedicated himself to keeping his word, trying to be a part of this relationship in a bigger way than we had been before.

“I don’t either.” He stood at the foot of the bed, hands braced on his hips. “I don’t like not knowing when I’m going to see you again.”

“It won’t be long.”

“Then why don’t I have a return flight?”

“You’ll have one before you know it,” I promised. It was a promise I had to keep.

I flung the covers back and went to the dresser, opening my underwear drawer and rifling around in the back of it until I found what I was looking for. A small black box that Kevin recognized as soon as it appeared.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside me. Kevin sat, his thigh bumping against mine. I placed the box on my palm and held it out to him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Don’t be coy.”

He took the box out of my hand and opened it, the plain gold band bright even in the darkness of our bedroom.

“I want to marry you in the summer,” I said, taking the box out of Kevin’s hands and plucking the ring out of the velvet folds. Kevin turned so our knees collided, his hand hovering in the air between us. The ring slipped easily onto his finger, like it belonged there, and I supposed it did.

“Outside?” he asked.

“Wherever you want. I just want it to be summer.”

Kevin studied his hand and the ring. “Why summer?”

“Because it’s warm in the summer. You make me warm.”

“That’s oddly romantic, Ronan.” Kevin sighed and set his hand on my thigh. We both looked down and I tangled our fingers together.

“I am oddly romantic,” I said with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know. But you need to.” I raised his hand to my mouth and kissed the place on his fingers where the ring met his skin. I kept my lips pressed there until he looked at me, and then I commanded him, “Get on your knees.”

He slid to the floor without thought, without question, and I carded my fingers through his sleep mussed hair.