He flattens his lips together like he’s trying hard not to smile, but the fight leaves him. His shoulders drop. Then he laughs, soft and breathy, shaking his head like after all these months, I’ve worn him down.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding, eyes shining. “Yeah, Stan. I’ll marry you.”
The second his hand comes up, I don’t waste a damn second. Islide the ring on his finger, and then I’m on him.
I’m kissing his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, anywhere I can reach while he laughs and tries to complain about it.
He barely gets a word out when I’m all over him, hands everywhere, heart absolutely losing its mind.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Em resting back into the pillows. Her hand rubs her belly, watching us with that smile of hers that makes me feel like a king.
My eyes go to Em, lounging like the queen she is. “Well,” I tease, “since you’re supervising, you feel like bossing us around, gorgeous?”
Em hums, all thoughtful, and adjusting herself against the pillows like she’s getting comfortable for the show. “Okay, you two may kiss,” she says, tone level and clinical in a way that always turns me on. “Very slowly, even more than my usual preference.”
Lix looks at me. His cheeks are flushed, mouth parted like he’s caught between saying something smart and letting me ruin him instead.
I don’t give him time to decide.
I grab him by the wrist and tug him closer, hauling him down onto the bed until the mattress dips and the ridiculous Mickey pillows get pushed out of the way like they’re scandalized.
Our mouths meet hard and hot, a groan caught in his throat like he wasn’t prepared for how fast I went from fiancé to feral.
Honestly, he should know better by now.
Skin on skin, our instinct answers before thought ever gets a vote. We’ve kissed a thousand times, but this one hits different. This one tastes likemineandfutureandholy shit, I get to keep you.
He’s shirtless, muscles solid under my wandering hands, heat everywhere. I slow it down on purpose, ‘cause our queen said so. I kiss him deep and lingering, like I’m memorizing the feel of his mouth for the rest of my life.
His eyes slide shut. Mine stay open.
Because Em’s watching.
Her glasses are slightly crooked, lips parted, looking pleased. I swear, the way she looks at us could make a man propose again just for hell of it.
I kiss Lix slower, breathe heavier, and let it get messy.
He melts into it, and his hands tighten on me. I pull back because I’m pretty sure he forgot breathing in oxygen is a mandatory thing for living. Still, I’m grinning ‘cause goddamn, I get to marry this man.
“You doin’ good, Ocean Eyes?” I whisper.
He nods, still breathless but smiling back.
I glance at Em, grinning. “And you enjoying the view, gorgeous?”
Her eyes widen, blinking owlishly behind her glasses. With a nod, she can’t stop the quirk of her full lips pulling up.
“Got any more in ya, Em?” I ask. “What do you want us to do next?”
She takes a breath like she’s choosing her words carefully, which is never good for my self-control. “Lix, lie on your back,” she says calmly. “Stan, lie on your side beside him, and place your face by his thigh.”
I do as she says, looking up at Lix, hand resting at his hip, and my mouth hovering over his crotch.
His pants are tented. My tongue wants to lick him wet. But I think his cock’s already doing the work, leaving a growing dark spot up front.
“Fuck, Lix, you leak like a broken faucet, babe.”
“Shut up.”
