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Fuck, he’s almost perfected that dirty mouth of his.

“Watch me.”

I’m helpless to ignore his command. He meets my eyes, his mouth slightly open on a moan of pleasure, and I’m gone. I fuck him fast, one hand braced by his head, the other on his cock, matching the pace. The bed knocks the wall, only urging me faster. He pushes up into me, filthy little comments between gasps, how good I feel, how he wants it, how I’m his. When he calls me his fiancé, it almost undoes me on its own.

“Close,” I manage. “You first. Please.”

“Then don’t stop.” His voice cracks. He comes over my fist with a little whimper, clenching around me hard enough that I follow him, buried deep, shaking through it.

We stay there. Breathing hard.

“Three minutes,” he says, looking perfect coated with his release and my cock still buried deep inside of him. “Maybe two.”

The clock is a traitor. I want more time with him. My parents can wait on the porch. Right?

“One.”

I sigh and kiss him, easing out, and already reaching for my shirt that we can sacrifice to clean him up. “Get dressed. I’ll get the door,” I say as the doorbell rings as if on cue.

He pulls me down to him briefly and captures my lips. “Be out soon.”

I pull on my shorts and a new shirt and leave him there to go let my parents in.

Bryson was late as we knew he’d be. But he brought a girlfriend, which is new. He doesn’t really date much. Her name is Lisa, and I’m choosing to like her until he gives me a reason not to.

My family was excited by the news of me asking Quinn to marry me. Even if I was too impatient to wait for them to be here.

Dinner is done and the fire is burning low in the fire pit, more glow than flame. Plates are stacked on the side table. And Quinn comes out of the house with drinks for everyone, and when he brings me mine, I snag him around the waist and pull him down into my lap.

He laughs and presses a deep kiss to my lips. I kiss him back, hand spread over his ribs. Somebody whistles. Bryson, probably. Quinn smiles against me and doesn’t pull away.

“Get a room,” Bryson says. “Or just go to your room, since this is your house.”

“Working on it,” I say into Quinn’s mouth, and he huffs a laugh and sits back enough to look at the others. He doesn’t get off my lap though. Which is probably a good thing, because he does things to me that I shouldn’t broadcast to my family. Even if they could probably guess.

“So,” Lisa says. “How long have you two been⁠—”

“A little over four years,” Quinn says. “But I knew he was my forever before that.”

My heart swells, and I kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I just had to get my head on straight.”

“And some helpful rules,” Quinn says.

Bryson snorts into his drink. “Rules. Of course there were rules.”

“There were nine, but I made five of them,” he says. “He broke most of them, he’s not a very good rule follower.”

“Romantic,” Dad says.

“Effective,” I say with a laugh. He leans into me.

“Nine,” my mom says. “You two wrote nine rules?”

“Some of them were practical.” Quinn pushes his glasses up. The ring catches the fire light, and I love the sight of it. “No running from conversations. Stop means stop. We weren’t dating. That one didn’t hold obviously.”

Bryson points his bottle at me. “Shocking.”

“I was very charming.”