Page 151 of He Should Be Mine

Then he grins. “Okay. But let’s do something wild next week. If I settle down to nothing but normal and dinner parties, I’ll feel eighty years old.”

I laugh, even though I’m a little concerned about what Molly’s idea of wild is. But then he laughs with me, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. It banishes every single worry from my mind.

This man can do whatever the hell he likes and I’ll trail behind him, making sure it all goes smoothly and absolutely no harm comes to him. Because, what else is immense power for, if not making the one you love happy?

We leave the rest of the clean-up and move into the snug. The fire is lit already, flickering warmly in the grate. Outside, the storm has returned, wind howling, rain dancing against the glass. Inside, everything is golden.

Molly curls up on the sofa, tugging me down beside him. I gather him in my arms and he melts into me. Our legs tangle. His head rests on my chest. I stroke his hair, loose now from the elegant updo, the pins abandoned somewhere between the dinner table and the rug here in the snug.

For a while, neither of us speak.

I listen to the storm. The crackle of the fire. The soft rhythm of Molly’s breath.

“I used to dream about this,” he whispers eventually. “But it never felt real.”

“It’s real now.”

He nods against my chest. “I was so scared.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t think I’d survive him.”

A long silence. My arms tighten around him.

“You did more than survive,” I murmur. “You won.”

Molly exhales, slow and shaky. “We both did.”

Another beat of soft silence.

Then, quieter, “Thank you for loving me, Dario.”

I press a kiss to his forehead. “Thankyoufor letting me.”

His fingers curl into my shirt, clinging. “Don’t ever let me go.”

“Never.”

The fire crackles. The storm rages. But we are safe, and warm, and together.

And for the first time in either of our lives,foreverdoesn’t feel like a lie.

He jumps up suddenly, and I blink at him. Dazed and disoriented.

“That chocolate cheesecake was delicious, and I’ve left it on the table! I need to put it in the fridge!” he exclaims.

I shake my head at him. “We were just having a deeply romantic moment, and you were thinking about cake?”

He flashes me a cheeky grin. “Sorry!”

He turns and skips to the dining room. I follow behind him.

He bends over the table, reaching for the silver serving platter in the middle. His ass curves and my opportunity presents itself, so I pounce.

Gently, but firmly, I push him down onto the linen tablecloth.

He squeaks in surprise.

“You told me to wait. I waited,” I rumble.

My hand reaches down to the hem of his cocktail dress and I begin to slide it up his stockings.

“Fair enough,” Molly sighs in mock resignation. I can tell he wants this every bit as much as I do.

He wriggles his wonderful ass against my cock, as if to prove my point.

He lets out a happy sigh. “I love you, Duckling.”

My heart thumps. “I love you more, Mio Molly.”