Page 8 of Roundabout

“Yes,” comes out so much easier than I thought possible, because with Coty, most things are. I’m the one that makes everything harder. Me and my issues. My past feels like a third person in this relationship most days, just as reliable as Coty, ten times more obstinate. It’s always near, waiting for its shining moment to remind me of every insecurity I’ve ever had.

“Really?” Coty asks, tilting his head to the side. “Because I’ve been asking—”

“Yes, really. I want to marry you and be your wife—”

“My wife?”

With a nod, I drop my arms to his muscular shoulders.

“Fuck, I like the sound of that. Say it again.”

I don’t hesitate, telling him honestly, “I want to be your wife.”

Pushing off the tile floor suddenly, Coty lifts me by my hips, and carries me straight into our room, right up to the foot of our bed where he deposits me gently.

Immediately coming down on top of me, he asks, “When?”

“Whenever we get married…”

He pretends to think about it, then shakes his head, saying, “Yeah, that doesn’t really work for me. I need a specific day.”

“Day?” Not month? Or year?

Coty doesn’t blink, only looks at me expectantly.

Some of those insecurities pop up like gophers in an abandoned field, but I make myself look away from them. I’ve seen them all before, know them intimately, and I’ve made Coty wait long enough to succumb to them yet again.

“So…soon?”

“The sooner the better.”

“How soon are we talking?” Doesn’t it take time to plan a wedding?

A wedding. With guests staring at us. Staring at me.

My nails dig into Coty’s neck to keep from tangling together—this time out of need—and he arches into me, settling himself snugly between my spread thighs.

“Now,” he says, dropping his mouth to mine and shoving his tongue right in to lick every inch.

His thick cock rubs against my pussy through our shorts until I have to break from the kiss to catch a breath.

“Now isn’t a good time,” I practically pant out.

“Are you busy?” he asks, tugging my sleep shorts down to my ankles, then pausing to run his gaze over my naked lower half.

I remove my shirt while kicking my shorts the rest of the way off. “Kinda busy.”

“This weekend?”

His eyes rise to mine, and at the same time, we both grin, saying, “Fall Fest.”

“Next weekend?”

I shrug both shoulders, not committing either way, only watching him closely as I bend my knees again, letting them fall out to the sides.

One single curse leaves his lips before he’s on me, licking up my slit, making me hiss on a back arch.

“Is that a yes?” he lifts his head to ask.