Page 171 of The Comedown

“Ten minutes? You think that’s enough?” I tease, biting my bottom lip to stifle a moan. We have to keep this quiet. And quick.

“Are you kidding me? I almost jizzed in my pants watching you sign my chest just now. Stand up.”

“On here?”

“On here.”

He lifts me up, quickly tugging my pants over my ass and down my legs, then his pants are taken care of next.

“Vegas. Tonight. Let’s go.”

Tonight? I guess it’s technically morning, but still…Vegas? Now?

“There’s only one reason people go to Vegas for a night,” I say, smirking down at him.

“Keep your feet flat and sit on my cock.”

Gripping my thighs, then ass, he helps lower me into a frog position, lining up his rigid cock under my throbbing pussy.

I understand why Julian couldn’t wait. I don’t want to wait another second to have us joined either. It’s like a sickness, but stronger.

Healthier though? Jury’s still out.

I’ve never actually had a romantic relationship that was healthy to know for sure.

Maybe I’m the jury and I alone can decide what I want and don’t want. But that’s just it, I’ve been so focused on avoiding what I don’t want, I’ve ignored figuring out what I do want.

I sink down on to his rock-hard length, groaning from the different angle.

This. Today. I want it.

I want Julian.

With his hands clamping my sides, he guides my body up and down his upright cock.

“Oh God,” I breathe, dropping my head back to gaze up into the mirror on the ceiling.

Julian lifts his eyes, meeting mine, and together, we watch our bodies move in sync as I ride him slowly. Suddenly overcome with so much emotion, so much love, it takes everything in me not to close my eyes and cry.

“Would you ever? Get married in Vegas?”

The top of my throat exposed to the mirror above us, I study myself swallowing thickly, then Julian. Would I?

If I do get married again, the location doesn’t really matter to me as I just want it to be a small, intimate affair without magazines present, or mandatory cell phone collections because we don’t trust the attendees not to leak our special day for a quick buck. I want to look like me, with my own hair, and a dress I choose myself instead of getting one from a company for product placement. My first wedding started off a sham. I’m not making the same mistake for my next one.

Julian drives his hips up, the tip of his cock hitting the right place deep inside me at exactly the right angle, causing my lips to tremble around a silent scream. He repeats the move, making me forget where we are entirely, and this scream comes out audible. More than audible. Inescapable.

Finley who?

“You’re on my skin, I’m under yours. Today, tomorrow. Vegas, a church. It doesn’t matter when or where, mark my words, Collette, you will be my wife.”

“Is this a—”

Julian doesn’t let up as he continues pistoning into me from below, robbing my ability to finish my sentence.

“A proposal?” He laughs, sitting forward. Wrapping his arms under my armpits, his hands come up to grip the top of my shoulders, pulling me down as he thrusts upward, and he says, “It’s a fucking promise.”

Everything goes black as my orgasm detonates, unfurling inside me at warp speed, and I barely make out Julian’s groan as he comes, his release warm and heady.