She blinks, like she’s only just realized I’m here. “I…” She shakes her head, scrunching up her nose. “I’m thinking about how I’m a widow.”
My lips purse. “Is that… bad?”
A puff of air escapes her. “No. Just… weird. Definitely not the marriage I dreamed of as a kid.”
“What did you dream of?”I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.
She rests her head against my chest. “I don’t know. I only ever really wished for one thing.”
“What?”
She hesitates. “That you would be the groom.”
If I died right now, I’d go with a goofy fucking smile on my face. Permanent.
“You wanted to marry me, Iz?”
She steps away, hiding her face. I pull her back in, cupping her cheek, then raise an eyebrow.
Her cheeks are bright red. “Yes,” she mumbles. “I wanted to marry you.”
“Do you still?”
I hold my breath, waiting.
Her face scrunches again, nose wrinkling, lips parting but no words coming out. I lean in, letting my lips brush against hers. My voice is barely a whisper.
“Marry me.”
She sucks in a breath.
Time pauses.
Then—
Her mouth crashes to mine, tongue tangling with mine, her body molding to me like she’s trying to fuse us into something singular.
My hands grip her ass, lifting her off the floor as she grinds against me. The groan that rips from my throat is pure, feral need.
I don’t have the patience.
I tear her dress at the seams, ripping it clean off. She doesn’t complain—shewhines, desperate for me. Her bare body taunts me, smooth tanned skin begging to be kissed, fucked, ruined.
Spinning her, I press her front to the bed. I run a hand over her ass, caressing the curve. Then—without warning—I strike.
She cries out, a mixture of pleasure and pain.
I can’t wait another fucking second.
"You want this, Iz?"
She wiggles her hips. "Please, God, yes."
My pants come down just far enough to free my cock before I shove inside her perfect cunt.
Fuck.
Goddamn.
