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“Ah, fuck.” I white-knuckle gripped the table. I wobbled on my toes and angled my hips, each circle of his thumb sending sparks of pleasure that made my legs weak.
Clove and ginger filled my senses, the heat of our scents coaxing a vibrant thrill through me.
I chanted his name—Sidney, Sidney, Sidney—every flick and dive of his tongue breaking apart the word. He’d always been good at unraveling me, and he was nothing if not determined, and seemed to have made it his goal to learn every possible way to undo me.
His hand wrapped around my ankle, lifting it to prop my foot over his shoulder, first one and then the other so I hovered in front of him, clinging desperately to the table.
I moaned, trying to properly balance myself, my leg muscles trembling with the effort, the sensation of each lick heightened because of the strain. He purred as I clenched around his tongue and pressed more firmly with his thumb, the demanding touch sending me cascading over the edge with a wild string of curses and bucking hips.
Sidney didn’t relent until I let out a pleading sound, my body tensing as I came again with a choked-off cry. He gave me a few more slow licks and pressed a kiss to the back of one thigh before helping me get my feet back under me. Bracing firm hands on my hips until my breathing settled, he pulled me up to standing and kissed the side of my neck.
“Never going to get tired of what you sound like when you come.”
I leaned back against him to catch my breath, locking my knees to stay upright. “I’m gonna need recovery cake.” I laughed and spun in his arms, lifting onto my toes to kiss him.
“You refuel. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Sidney patted my butt and disappeared to shower.
I fetched a fork from the silverware drawer and sat down at the kitchen table to sample my confection. I wiggled happily, each mouthful infusing me with sugar to stem the tremble of my thighs and the needy clench of my belly.
Tonight was going to be the fucking best.
“Did you sit down to the entire cake?” I asked as I stepped back into the kitchen.
“...No.” Allie set down her fork and wiped her mouth. “Definitely didn’t do that instead of cutting myself a slice like a reasonable person.”
She spun in her seat and stopped short, her eyes greedily soaking me in. “Damn. You look snazzy.”
I’d chosen the sleek black pants intentionally because they hugged me just right; my black button-down had the slightest satiny pinstripe for texture; and my red satin tie popped off the dark backdrop, the same shade as her dress.
“Can’t let my girl steal all the spotlight.” I slunk towards Allie and kissed her, my tongue stealing the remnants of chocolate. “Now you’ve got me craving cake.”
Allie traced her fingers down my chest, toying with the buttons. “Let’s get you fueled up because I’m intending to tire you out after you put that ring on my finger.”
I playfully growled and nipped her bottom lip. “Let’s head out, then. Don’t want to miss our reservation.”
We walked out to the car with my arm around her waist until we were forced to part to get into the vehicle. The restaurant was downtown and took about half an hour to get there with traffic. There were only a few parking spots nearby, all of which were full, so we opted to park in the lot a couple of blocks away and walk. Allie slipped on some fold-away flats she’d kept in her purse and I carried her heels for her.
I kept my arm over her shoulders to help her retain some semblance of warmth. Downtown was lit up with neon signs and twinkling lights wrapped around tree trunks. Cheerful music burst into the air each time a door to one of the businesses we passed opened as someone entered or left.
“It’s so beautiful out tonight.” Allie hummed and tucked her hand in my back pocket.
“Don’t make me get all cliché about how you’re the most beautiful thing there is to look at here.”
“Little late for that.” Allie laughed and squeezed my butt.
We rounded the corner and into our restaurant of choice—a ritzy French bistro that looked like it had been teleported straight from Versailles. I’d been hearing rave reviews for it for years and had wanted to go forever. A surprise proposal seemed like the perfect occasion for it, though I’d initially booked it just to see her smile when we went here.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, vibrant paintings in gold frames dotted the walls, and marble floors glinted beneath our feet. I gave our names to the maître d’ and we were guided to a red velvet booth along the front window with a view of the lit-up trees.
A neatly dressed sommelier greeted us a few moments later, a bottle of wine and two glasses held upside down in the same hand. “Bienvenue. Could I tempt you with a sample of our famed vin de la maison?”
Wine and Allie had never particularly agreed, but every so often she tried it again just in case there was some variety she didn’t hate. I eyed her curiously and went along with her agreement, turning to the sommelier and accepting the minuscule portion in the wine glasses to try.
Allie took a sip, trying and failing to stop her face from scrunching up at the taste. She looked at me with wide eyes, and I covered my smile and laugh with a cough.
“It’s a lovely wine,” I told him, “but I think we’ll go with champagne for tonight.”
“Champagne is typically reserved for dessert, monsieur.”
