chapter 183

chapter 183
Grace's POV:
His teeth grazed the sensitive spot below my ear, sending electric jolts straight to my core, and I arched into him involuntarily, heat pooling low in my belly as his hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts with maddening lightness before cupping them fully, rolling my nipples between his fingers until they peaked into tight, aching buds.
"Maverick—" His name escaped on a breathy moan, my body already betraying me, hips grinding up against the rigid length of his cock straining through his boxers.
"Have you considered it yet?" he growled, his voice rough with desire as he rolled us over so I was beneath him, pinning me with his weight while one hand dipped lower, shoving my panties aside to trace the slick folds of my pussy, his fingers circling my clit with deliberate pressure that had me gasping, already so wet for him it was embarrassing.
I shook my head, half-laughing, half-moaning as he slid one finger inside me, then two, curling them against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids, his thumb never ceasing its torment on my clit. "Not... yet..."
"Then I'll make you," he promised darkly, withdrawing his fingers just as my body began to clench around them, leaving me empty and whining in protest; before I could complain, he was yanking my sleep shirt over my head and tossing it aside, his mouth descending on my breasts, sucking one nipple deep while pinching the other, the dual assault pulling a cry from my throat.
He worked his way down my body with single-minded focus, kissing and licking a scorching path over my stomach until he settled between my thighs, hooking my legs over his shoulders and spreading me wide, his breath hot against my dripping core.
"Tell me you're ready to be my wife," he demanded, his tongue flicking out to lap at my clit once, twice, before plunging inside me, fucking me with his mouth in a rhythm that had my hips bucking wildly against his face.
"Oh God—yes, almost—" Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my belly, my fingers twisting in his hair as he devoured me, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise, holding me open for his relentless assault, but just as the edge approached, he pulled back, lips glistening with my arousal, eyes blazing.
"Not good enough," he rasped, stripping off his boxers to free his cock, thick and throbbing, the head already leaking pre-cum as he stroked himself once, twice, teasing my entrance with the blunt tip. "Say you'll marry me soon, Grace. Say it properly, or I won't fuck you until you do."
I whimpered, trying to lift my hips to take him in, but he held me down effortlessly, rubbing the length of his shaft along my slit, coating himself in my wetness without giving me what I needed. "Please, Maverick—I need you inside me—"
"Need me as your husband first."
He notched himself at my entrance and thrust forward in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt, both of us groaning at the exquisite stretch, my walls fluttering around his girth as he stilled, letting me adjust, his forehead pressed to mine, breath ragged. "Considered it yet, baby?"
He began to move then, slow, deep thrusts that hit every sensitive spot, his pubic bone grinding against my clit with each snap of his hips, building me higher and higher until I was sobbing his name, nails raking down his back. "Yes—God, yes—"
"Tomorrow?" he pressed, never breaking rhythm, one hand snaking between us to pinch my clit sharply, making me clench around him like a vise, teetering on the brink but not quite falling. "Tell me we'll do it tomorrow, Grace."
Sweat slicked our skin, the room filled with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping flesh, my pussy soaking the sheets beneath us as he pounded into me relentlessly, holding me right there on the razor's edge, his cock dragging against my walls with perfect friction.
"Tomorrow," I finally gasped out, vision blurring as the orgasm crashed over me in blinding waves, "yes—tomorrow, Maverick—fuck, marry me tomorrow—"
Only then did he let go, thrusting deep and hard as he came with a guttural roar, spilling hot inside me, his body shuddering against mine as we rode out the aftershocks together, locked in each other, utterly spent.
---
The next morning, Maverick woke me with coffee and that determined glint in his eye.
"Told you tomorrow," he said simply, already dressed in a crisp button-down that hugged his broad shoulders. "We're doing this."
By some miracle of Maverick's influence—or outright bribery, knowing him—we bypassed every holiday backlog at the courthouse.
No lines, no waits; a private room, a sympathetic officiant who didn't bat an eye at the urgency, and witnesses courtesy of Daniel waiting discreetly outside.
We stood before a justice of the peace in our casual clothes, snow still dusting our coats from the short walk inside, and exchanged vows that felt more profound for their simplicity.
"I, Maverick Cross, take you, Grace White, to be my wife..." His voice was steady, but his hands trembled slightly as he slid the band onto my finger, interlocking with the engagement ring he'd given me years ago.
And then it was done. Papers signed, seals stamped, and suddenly we were Mr. and Mrs. Cross-White.
"Finally," he breathed against my lips as we kissed outside, the winter sun glinting off our rings, a photographer he'd somehow arranged capturing the moment in a flurry of candid shots.
Back home, I caught him changing his phone wallpaper to one of those photos: us framed in the courthouse doorway, foreheads touching, smiles radiant and real. My heart swelled as I peeked over his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
"Couldn't wait, huh?"
He turned, pulling me into his lap right there on the couch.
"Two years behind schedule. From now on, every day counts."
His thumb traced my new ring, eyes soft with possession and peace. "Mrs. Cross-White. Mine forever."