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He stutters my name in response to my mischievous movement. And, like ammunition, my teasing spurs him on. The next thrust is rougher. Unleashed. The bed creaks under us as he speeds up the pace. Almost as if he’s trying to prove something.

But he doesn’t have to prove a thing.

Fabien releases one of my wrists to clasp my side and pull me even closer. His sweat mixes with my own. His fresh, manly scent overwhelms me.

I gulp.

There’s nothing I can do.

And I really, really love it.

He takes me. Makes me melt.

My future husband.

I dare to turn my head and look back at him. Our eyes meet as he fucks me hard from behind. My look breaks his concentration, and he loses all sense of control. Fabien’s lips curl into a half-smirk and half-snarl. I bite my lower lip and let out a moan, even as we stare at each other.

And that sends him wild.

My hands clutch at the sheets as Fabien growls my name one last time, his body shaking, as he finally gives way.

Our breathing slows as Fabien collapses by me, his arm around my waist. He gives me a quiet smile.

“I want that forever,” he whispers.

I kiss him.

And then his finger finds me. I moan as he makes me finish. My entire body quivers as I think of nothing else but our future together.

“You have me forever, Fabien.”

DAY SIXTY-SEVEN

60

FABIEN

I’m the last to arrive at the casino. I’m waved past security, through the main hall, and then to the back private room.

“Hello, boys.”

Baptiste and Clement turn in their seats at the poker table. They’ve been waiting for me before they start.

Clement looks crisp and sharp in his suit, a dark wit simmering in his eyes. Baptiste has a wry smile spread across his handsome features, clicking chips together in one hand.

I’m wearing a suit with my father’s old cufflinks glimmering in the light.

We’re back in our regular room at the casino. Just us three. There’s no scanning the space for danger. There’s no rage boiling in our blood anymore. This is our place to escape our lives and work and just be with each other. To decompress. To win some money. To be the boys in school detention all those years ago.

We’ve come a long way since then.

“I was thinking you weren’t going to make it tonight,” Baptiste says to me as I take my seat.

“You know me,” I reply. “I’d never miss the chance to make some money from you.”

Clement’s laughing.

“The only one walking away rich tonight will be me, gentlemen.”