“Samantha Nicole Hayes,” I said, voice low, steady, certain. “Every time I try to think about when it was that I fell in love with you, my mind always comes back here. To Paris. To our last night together.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes were shining. “Oh my God, Theo…”
“I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you by my side. I want to build a life with you. So, I have a question for you…”
I opened the small box, revealing a simple, elegant, and timeless ring, just like her. “Will you give me the honor of being your husband?” Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t speak right away, just dropped to her knees too, in front of me, laughing through the tears as she cupped my face.
“Yes,” she whispered. “A thousand times, yes.”
We kissed under the lights of Paris, her arms around my neck, the ring already on her finger.
Somewhere below, people cheered. But at that moment, it felt like we were alone in the city of love.
And she saidyes.
We walked back to the hotel slowly, laughing at nothing and everything at once, occasionally stopping for more kisses than were probably appropriate. But we were in the most romantic city in the world. It felt allowed.
She couldn’t stop looking at her ring, and I couldn’t stop looking ather.
Back at the hotel, Paris was still glittering beyond the windows, but nothing compared to her. Not the skyline, not the moonlight, not even the ring now glinting on her hand.
We were barely inside the room when her mouth found mine. Her fingers were in my hair, tugging hard. My hands gripped her thighs, lifting her until her legs wrapped around my waist.
“This dress,” I muttered, teeth grazing her jaw, “is coming off.”
“Then rip it,” she gasped, hips already grinding into me. I didn’t hesitate. The zipper went down, and I peeled the silk off her, revealing her soft skin and the lace beneath. She is so beautiful, and now she has agreed to bemine.
I carried her to the bed, tossed her down, and followed, pulling my shirt over my head, belt hitting the floor with a thud. She arched up on her elbows. “You gonna make love to your fiancée like a gentleman?”
I shook my head slowly, climbing over her. “No, not tonight.”
I gripped her hips, dragging her to the edge of the bed. She gasped as I flipped her onto her stomach, her ass high, back arched. “God, Theo.” I leaned over her, lips to her ear. “You want it rough, sweetheart, or do you want it sweet? Tell me.”
“Rough,” she breathed. “Please.”
I slide down her lace panties, and then I was inside her in a single, brutal thrust. She cried out, but I held her. One hand at her waist, the other splayed across her back, grounding her. “Still good?” She nodded frantically, pushing her hips back against me. “Don’t stop.” She met me every time, no hesitation, no restraint.
So, I didn’t. I thrust into her again and again. She was loud, wild, and unrestrained. Her moans sounded like a symphony of need. I gripped her hair, pulling her up against my chest, one hand around her throat, not tight, just enough to hold her still.
“You belong to me now,” I growled, thrusting harder, deeper.
“I’ve always belonged to you,” she cried out. “Theo, fuck… I’m gonna?—”
“Let go,” I ordered. “Give it to me.” She came around me, her whole body trembling, legs giving out as I held her tight. I wasn’t far behind. One last thrust, one final groan torn from my chest, and I spilled into her, stars exploding behind my eyes. For a long moment, we collapsed together, tangled in the sheets.
Then she turned to me, eyes shining, breath ragged. “So… you are my fiancé now.” I laughed, breathless. “I can’t wait to call you my wife.” She grinned.
“Come here, Samantha,” I said as I walked to the balcony’s door. She grabbed the blanket and came to me. “What Mr. Jones?”
“Drop the blanket, hands on the railing.” She obeyed without hesitation. Our room had a semi-private balcony. If you don't count the people on the street, no one will see us. I kneeled behind her, spreadher legs, and without warning, I pressed my mouth into her. “Fuck Theo, I?—”
“Quiet, Samantha, if someone hears you, they’re going to look up.” She nodded and grabbed the railing until her knuckles turned white. I pressed my mouth into her again and started devouring her. I started to rub her clit with one finger, and she melted right in my mouth. I could feel her trembling, maybe because of the cold, maybe because of my tongue. Either way, she tasted and felt delicious.
“Leg on the chair, now.”
I stood up, with one hand grabbing her hair, with the other guiding myself into her. That first thrust was enough to make her legs shake. So much, she almost lost her balance. “Theo, I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can, open up for me.” And she did. She bent over the railing, giving me more access. I fisted my hand in her hair and pulled it as hard as I could while I fucked her right there. She moaned my name in a way that almost undid me.
