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“But I’m your cheesy guy.”

She laughs and pulls me closer.

“And now,” I say, setting her down on her feet. “Now I’m going to make you come so many times, you’re going to forget your own name.”

She gasps and puts a hand over her mouth. “Avril East,” she says. “You want me to change my name?”

I shake my head. “No. I want you to be exactly who you are. And you’ll always be Avril Huntington to me.”

“You always know exactly the right thing to say.” She reaches for my cock. With her hands around me, I can finally relax. She slides to her knees. She looks even more beautiful than usual with the crown of my cock on her lips.

She sucks the tip and then goes right to the base, her tongue working its way up my shaft before taking me deep, so fucking deep, I want to shout out at the perfection of her. She sits back on her knees and reaches for my hands, placing them on her face, handing me control of the situation. I growl my appreciation at the gesture.

Her eyelids flutter, as if her pleasure is almost too much, and I groan at how fucking perfect she looks in the red dress I bought her. It’s a version of the one I first met her in. The one I sliced off her. The frills are so feminine, but they can’t cover up how strong and feisty she is. I definitely met my match at Aurora and Deacon’s engagement party. In every sense of the word.

I start to move my cock in and out of her mouth. She looks up at me with big, trusting eyes, as I move.

Fuck she’s perfect.

I’m almost painfully hard. I want to come so badly. I’m not going to be able to hold off much longer, so I step back, my cock rearing in frustration.

“Please, Ben. I want you to.”

I shake my head. “Avril⁠—”

“I want you to come in my mouth, Ben.” She reaches for me. “I want you to take what you need from me.”

I groan again. She’s too much. Too sexy. Too compliant. Too good for me.

I hold her face in my hands and feed her my cock. Because I’ll do anything she asks of me. I almost come immediately, but I row it back, just for a few seconds, because I want to enjoy this fucking perfection. The pulse in my ears is roaring, like a tiger desperate to be let off a leash. I want to come so badly.

She moans and the vibrations travel up my shaft. I’m done. I push in one more time and explode in her mouth.

Just like she asked.

I don’t believe in God, but I think I just had a divine experience, some kind of religious awakening.

This woman is perfection.

She blinks up at me. “I love you.”

All I can think is how I want more. I bend and scoop her up and lay her on the bed. I push up her skirt. But I don’t want anything between us. I stand and, like some goofy eighteen-year-old who can barely believe he’s about to get lucky, I strip off my clothes, discarding them on the floor, and then I crawl over her.

“Usually I’m the naked one,” she says.

“You’re about to be.” I sit back and reach for her dress, and I pull it apart with my bare hands. Her skin is so beautiful, soft and hot, and her breasts shift as she moves on the mattress, freeing herself from her tattered dress.

“Ben, it has buttons at the back,” she says on a sigh. “You don’t need to go all King Kong.”

A smile hovers at the edges of my mouth, and I pull the material from her, then rip off her panties. “Are you sure?” I ask. “I think you like it when I go King Kong.”

She laughs. “You’re insane. But you have a big dick and you know how to use it, so I’ll marry you when you ask me.”

“Marry me?” I ask her.

“Okay, then.”

We smile at each other. I’ll ask her properly one day soon. But I don’t want her to think that I’m in any doubt. She’s the only woman who’s ever had my full attention. That will never change, whether she marries me or not.