Always Forever | ✓

Chapter One

D E V I N

OVER THE PAST nine months, I went from drowning in the ocean that is my mental illness, trying to stay afloat in the waves of my past to finding a yellow rope of hope, leading to the life jacket that is my fiancé.

Hope.

Hope for a better life.

Hope that she'll never leave.

Hope that she'll always love me.

Most of all, hope that she'll understand.

An inadequate fantasy for a future, until recently, I thought I'd never get to live, yearning for the illusion of it. But when I met Genevieve, my fears calmed like the ocean does after a hurricane, placid and naked of frights, welcoming a thundering storm with open arms.

What's another typhoon, another whirlpool when I've survived a tsunami?

Genevieve Peterson will keep me safe. She gives me the stability I desperately need. She gives me a strength I didn't know I have, even when the whole world is against me, even when my own mind is against me.

My lips turn upward into a sly smile. She'll be Genevieve Green, in a few more months.

Christ! Just the sound of her new name makes me rock fucking hard.

Nights of jerking off in the shower will never satisfy this craving. Dreams of thrusting my cock inside her folds will never drench my desire to be inside her.

I want her.

I want her more than I want to breathe. More than I want to sleep. More than I want to survive in this godforsaken world.

Her nonsensical arguments about a God that doesn't exist and staying a virgin until marriage are driving me insane. I will never understand that logic. Does she really think she won't be allowed into "Heaven" because she had sex before marriage?

I'd like to believe my future wife is smarter than that. I'd like to believe she doesn't need futile words from a book written by humans thousands of years ago to know right from wrong.

However, I won't hurt her feelings with my opinions. I stay quiet whenever my mouth reaches her pubic bone and she asks me to stop. I push off the bed, kiss the top of her head, and walk to the place that's become my nirvana in the last two weeks she's moved in with me: the bathroom.

The worst part about living with my fiancé is that now I can't even jerk off because she asks me all the time why I take so long in the bathroom and what I am doing in there. Whenever she asks that question, I give her a knowing look, but she's oblivious to it. Her forehead furrows in the cutest way and the corners of her lips twist in the sexiest pout.

And I see nothing. Nothing but those plump lips wrapped around my cock as she looks up at me from under thick lashes, moaning in appreciation of my taste. Yet again, I turn around and practically stumble to the bathroom before I embarrass myself like a horny teenage boy.

The fact that she doesn't know how sexy she is makes my infatuation for her reach the highest peak, climbing until I reach the summit and the only way down is to fall. And fuck if I haven't fallen for her, broken my limbs, and casted them in valor. Loving her is like going into a battlefield. I know the consequences such a dangerous act has on my life. However, the prize is worth it.