Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Man, I love watching you let go like this,” Mark reported as he backed off a bit. “You make the best sounds.”
“Yeah?” Isaiah yanked on his shoulder. “Come up here and make me make some more.”
“You don’t want to come that way?” Mark sounded surprised, but he complied, stretching out on top of Isaiah again.
“Maybe some time, but I’d rather share it with you, if you’re up for that?” Isaiah kept his voice gentle, trying to let him know that he really was okay if Mark didn’t feel like climaxing with him.
“Yeah. Hearing you react to my kisses was nice.” Mark kissed his neck as he palmed Isaiah’s cock. “You want my hand?”
“Here. Do us both.” Isaiah moved so that their dicks were lined up and showed Mark what he meant. Mark caught on right away, stroking them both off with his bigger, tighter grip. “Fuck. It’s not going to take much.”
“Really?” Mark sounded delighted and redoubled his efforts as he kissed Isaiah’s mouth.
“Close.” Isaiah rocked his hips up to meet Mark’s strokes. “Mark. Fuck that feels so good.”
“That’s it. I love making you come. Come for me.” Mark’s breath came in ragged pants, and that even more than his hand or the amazing feel of their cocks sliding together pushed Isaiah over the edge, seeing what affect he had on Mark. He loved sharing this with him, letting him know how close he felt to him, how safe and secure and loved, and he tried to put all that into his kiss. Kissing Mark while coming was possibly his most favorite thing ever, and he kept up kissing him, even when Mark collapsed next to him, finishing himself off with a few frantic strokes.
“Oh wow.” Mark’s voice was hoarse. “That was intense.”
“But good intense?” Isaiah wasn’t above fishing for compliments, but he also really did want to make sure that Mark felt comfortable.
“Yes. Fantastic intense. I love watching you climax. Might be my favorite thing ever. You are so beautiful to me,” Mark whispered against his lips. “And I know you’re going to tell me that’s bunk—”
“It is.” Isaiah laughed.
“But you are. I want to remember you just like this. First morning of the rest of our lives. Sunny. Smiling. Looking drunk on kissing.”
“I am.” Isaiah pulled him down for more. And silently he pledged to always remember this moment, the perfection of being this close with the man he loved.
“I love you.” He stroked Mark’s face. Mark had said the words far more than him in the days leading up to the wedding, and again a bunch of times yesterday. It was still hard for Isaiah to get the words out past all the emotions tangled up in his chest, to believe this was real, that he really got Mark, that this wasn’t all going to be yanked away again.
“Me too. Love you so much it hurts.”
Isaiah knew exactly what he meant. Love did hurt. No two ways about it. Love meant opening up to pain. Love meant loss. It meant uncertainty. And it also meant wonderful, beautiful things like the sun dancing through the many shades of Mark’s hair. Love meant knowing their song by heart and dancing with the kids—their kids—in front of all their friends and family. He was going to remember that moment forever too. Love meant making a life together—a full, rich life filled with ups and downs, shared together. Love was spectacular and scary all at once. And it was what they made—not with their bodies, but their hearts.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Three months later
“I had to clean.” Daphne met Mark at the door, a scowl upon her face. Man, but her expression made him remember Danielle when she’d had to do extra chores. His heart twanged—not the fresh wound of six months ago, but a deep ache of nostalgia and loss and pride all mingled together. “Why are we having another party? Liam already had his birthday!”
“Yes, he did.” Mark scooped up Liam, who was crawling his way. Despite pulling up on stuff for months, Liam had persisted with crawling. The pediatrician assured them that he’d walk when he was ready and that all was fine developmentally. “We wanted to celebrate some good news.”
“Is this about the judge lady?”
“Yup.” Isaiah came and relieved him of Liam, setting him back on the floor before giving Mark a fast peck. He smelled like rosemary and mint and wore a shirt with his new company logo on it. He’d been putting in a massive herb garden all week. Mark loved coming home to new pictures and fresh stories of the progress.
“You’re late. New group giving you fits?” Isaiah asked.
“Always.” Mark gave him what was probably a rather tired smile. He’d been assigned to stay a BUD/S instructor for this next class. It meant more regular time home with the family, more time with Johnson, who’d become a real friend, and more time turning recruits into fully functional SEALs. Besides, Swenson was back in this class, and Mark wouldn’t miss watching him take his shot for anything. Life didn’t give many second chances—he knew firsthand how rare that was, and he wanted to witness this one up close.