“He’d marry you right now if you wanted,” Remy said while making sure Edith was busy chatting with Jemison to sneak a pair of small fairy wings into a bag for the noodle.
“You’ve got magic pussy, darling. Make sure he doesn’t give you less than five carats. You deserve to sparkle.” Imogene looked at the rainbow collection of rings on her fingers.
My phone beeped and I ignored the others who started making wedding plans for me to check my notifications.
Piper: Bags are packed! I’ll see you tomorrow!
Me: Okay! Text when you depart and land.
I smiled and was about to set the phone down when it beeped again.
Rylan: Just got done with club. What are you up to?
Me: Wrapping gifts while the goons plan our future wedding.
Rylan: Oh, any good details?
I shook my head and didn’t bother listening to the girls say something about lace or silk when I answered.
Me: Pretty sure the theme is the 80s. How do you look with long hair and spandex?
Rylan: Sexy as fuck and spandex makes my dick look bigger *thumbs up*
Me: Just what every girl dreams of on her special day, showing off her soon-to-be husband’s big dick at the altar.
Rylan: Using husband and big dick in the same sentence made me hard.
Me: Because you want a husband and a big dick?
Rylan: Because I want to hear those words drip from your lips when I’m inside you.
My hands covered my face as I groaned then set my phone on the ground. How was I supposed to respond to that?
“You all right?” Remy asked.
“Yeah, Rylan’s just being… Rylan.”
They nodded like they knew exactly what I meant. Feeling like I couldn’t let him have the last word, I sent a quick text to keep him hard until we met up later.
Me: If you make me come with your big dick like you did last night, then I’ll call you my husband loud enough for the whole castle to hear.
Would I? No. He wasn’t my husband, and I wasn’t marrying him. But we could play pretend. Who knows? Maybe I’d like the way it felt saying it.
My phone beeped a moment later and the smile on my face froze.
Piper: …
Piper: Um… wrong number, Mom.
Piper: Tell that “husband” of yours an invoice for daily therapy will be in his inbox tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Trust: 101
“Rylan!” I moaned. My hands gripped the edge of the desk with each hard thrust from behind until he followed me with a hoarse groan.
“I like the way you say thank you,” I said as he rained kisses down my back.
