I press against her, showing her how much I want her.
She shivers as I slide my hand up her thigh, under her flowy dress.
Her skin is soft, warm, and she’s wet—already soaked through her panties. I groan, low and throaty. Her ass is full and round, and I can’t resist slapping it lightly, making her gasp and push back against me.
“Nick,” she breathes, her voice shaky and needy. “Please.”
“First things first, baby.” I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I hold her still.
“What?” she moans in protest.
I want her, and I want to take her—but after.
“Hold that thought.”
I turn her around to face me.
She pouts. I kiss her lips and then drop to one knee.
“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously.
“Proposing.”
“I already said yes.”
“Shut up, Enya.” I open the box and show her the ring.
“Wow! That’s big.”
I grin. “Baby, you say that when I’m naked, too.”
She gives me a pointed look that says she’s not impressed. But she is holding back a smile, so I take it as a win.
I can’t believe we’re joking when, just a couple of days ago, I was worried I’d lose her.
“Marry me, Enya. Make me happy because only you can. And let me drive you crazy, because only I can.”
She beams, her eyes warm. “Yes, Dominic, I will marry you, I will make you happy and let you drive me crazy.”
I slide the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly, just like she does me.
I turn her around. “Hands on the counter, baby.”
She looks back. “What?”
“I want to see that ring while I fuck you.”
She laughs—it’s a free, happy sound, and I promise myself as I make love to her that I’ll elicit that sound every day, again and again.
25
ALL THE HANDS THAT HOLD YOU
ENYA
My water breaks at four in the morning two days after I’m due, because when you’re sleepy and groggy is the best time to be in severe pain.
I’m standing in the kitchen, craving cold grapes, when suddenly there’s a warm rush down my legs. I gasp, grabbing the counter.
