“Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” he rasped.
I shifted my feet until they were spread apart, revealing my need to him.
“I’ve been horny as hell with no one to fix it,” I told him, shifting on the bed.
He grinned then, so wickedly that I knew he didn’t care in the least that I was horny and wasn’t able to fix it on my own.
He knew the power he held.
Goddamn.
The look in his eyes, paired with the smirk on his face? Yeah, I knew how the next five minutes were going to go, and I didn’t freakin’ care that it would be fast.
Not when I knew he would be here later to fix the ache that only he could heal.
He removed the rest of his clothes with a swiftness that relayed his need, his eyes on me as he did.
When he finally got to his underwear, he pushed them down over his hips, and his engorged cock popped free.
“Take off your shirt,” he urged.
I slowly rocked back and forth to get up on my elbows, and then pushed myself up from there, all under the amused stare of the man that would one day be my husband.
Even if he hadn’t actually asked yet.
He tilted his head slightly sideways as he palmed his cock.
“What was that look for?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to tell him something else. Something that wasn’t going to put pressure on him to ‘do the right thing.’ But then I found my mouth saying the words before I’d even realized they were going to come out of my mouth.
“I want to marry you,” I blurted.
He grinned, then bent down for his pants.
“Funny thing,” he said as he came back up, a velvet box in his hand. “I was going to do this after we met with your parents later. After I asked your dad for your hand in marriage. But, since you asked…”
He placed the black box on my stomach, and I stared at it with awe.
“Ask me later,” I breathed, my eyes going from the box that was now being kicked, to the man that was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to open it. “There’s one single part in every book I read. That part where the man asks the father for the daughter’s hand in marriage. That’s my favorite part.”
“Why?” he rasped, reaching for the box now, his eyes no longer on me or the box, but at my stomach that was doing acrobatics, looking like I was an extra in the Exorcist.
I reached for him with one arm while balancing on the other.
He held out his hand.
I took it and placed it on my belly and waited.
It took half a second.
Kick. Punch. Roll.
Kick. Punch. Roll.
He hissed, and my eyes flashed up to meet his.
“Holy shit,” he breathed.