Three weeks until the wedding, and the city still felt like it was holding its breath.
John’s apartment had become ours completely. My clothes hung beside his. My scent lived on his pillows. Every morning I woke with his heavy arm locked around my waist and his mouth already seeking the soft skin of my neck.
This morning was no different.
I felt him hard against my ass before my eyes even opened. His hand slid between my thighs, two thick fingers pushing into the wet heat that always seemed to be waiting for him.
“Morning, future wife,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
I pushed back with a soft moan. John lined up and sank into me in one slow, deep thrust from behind. We moved together lazily at first, the early light painting the walls gold. His fingers stayed on my c**t, rubbing
