He gave a slight nod. “The second I knew, my whole world shifted. I became a parent without a kid. My perspective on everything was altered dramatically. I became a different person even though my life hasn’t changed at all yet. Strangest thing ...”
The second we were home, he buried me in the corner of the couch, just my bottoms off because he was in too much of a rush to remove my top and bra. I was still sore from last night, but I didn’t dare interrupt him. That was like taking food away from a starving bear.
He bent me like a pretzel in the corner of the couch and nailed me hard, like he’d wanted to fuck me the last few hours, and now he finally could. He didn’t even undress himself, just tugged his bottoms downfar enough to get his cock out. He left his shirt on and gave me the hardest quickie, made me come fast like he’d kissed my sex for the last twenty minutes. Then he released inside me with a satisfied moan, like he’d finally scratched the itch that had been gnawing at him all night.
He left me there when he was done and walked over to the bar cart to make himself a drink.
Medusa stayed in her dog bed until we were finished, able to pick up on the mood before anything physical had even happened yet. But when she knew it was over, she pranced over to Constantine, able to put some weight on her leg.
“Sorry, baby girl.” He took a drink before he kneeled down and gave her a rubdown. Now that she was feeling better, she turned her body and rubbed her flank against him, being playful when she got his attention.
A part of me felt bad about how much her life had changed since I’d come around. She used to be the only woman in his life, but now she came second ... and soon she would be third.
After she got her fill of Constantine, she came over to me on the couch, walked up the ramp, and sat beside me.
I pulled my panties back on and left the jeans on the floor.
Constantine looked out the window and admired the city lights before he came to the couch. He handed me a glass of water that I didn’t ask for, then sat beside me. “Want to get married next Saturday?”
I heard what he said, but it took me a moment to accept the words in the air. I turned to look at him, the glass of water in my hand. “What?”
“There are a couple nice churches around here. I’m sure we could make any of them work.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course I am.” He looked me dead in the eye, his dark eyes back to their usual intensity when we were alone together.
“I don’t think we should get married just because I’m pregnant.”
“It’s notjustbecause you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, it is. Otherwise, you would have proposed to me. But you just said it like ... an obligation.”
“Definitely not an obligation.”
“This isn’t the early nineteen hundreds, where we can’t have a child out of wedlock.”
“Never said it was. And that’s not why.”
“Yes, it is. And that’s not how I want us to get married. When the time is right ... someday ... we’ll do it.”
“Someday?” His voice rose in the quiet house. “Let me make this clear. I don’t want to get married because you’re having our baby—at least not in the way you think. Not because it’s an obligation. Not because it’s the right thing to do. None of that bullshit. But because we’re a family now and I’m fucking in love with you and I want you to be my wife. Because we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, and I’d rather do that as husband and wife instead of man and woman. I just told you earlier today you’re my fucking soulmate, and you think I want to marry you out of obligation?”
“It just ... the way you said it—”
“I said let’s get married next Saturday because I want to be your husband by next Saturday. I didn’t think I could fall more in love with you, until I realized you were pregnant. And now, it’s become a full-blown infatuation. I can’t keep my hands off you. I’ve never been more fucking turned on in my life. I was obsessed with you before, but now it’s on a different level. So, when I ask if you want to get married next Saturday, I’m not really asking you.I’m fucking telling you.”
My eyes shifted away, and I remained quiet, suddenly uneasy.
He continued to watch me. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” His voice turned softer once again, like he hadn’t been ruthless a moment ago.
“That’s just ... not how I want to get married.”
He was quiet for a bit, absorbing my rejection in silence. “Then tell me exactly how, and I’ll bend over backward to make it happen.”
“I understand your intentions and it’s romantic, but I wanted you to ask me. I wanted a ring and a proposal that I didn’t see coming. I wanted you to ask because you decided I was the one you wanted for the rest of your life.”
“I’ve felt that way since the moment I asked you to move in with me. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you’d be my wife. I told you weeks ago that you would be my wife. I’ve never doubted that.”
