Page 254 of ClickBack

“Say that again.”

“Say what?”

“That.” I do it slower. “That right there.”

Nothing usable comes out of her after that. I nip the crease of her thigh, feel her jump, then come back and take her clit between my lips and work her with my tongue while her heels press into my back. She goes with her hips coming up off the bed and a cry against the back of her hand, and I stay with her through all of it, easing off only when she pushes at my head.

“Come here.”

“I’m working.”

I kiss the inside of her knee, then drag my mouth all the way back up her, and by the time I get back to her mouth she has my belt undone and my zipper down and no patience left at all.

I get the rest of my clothes off, put a knee between hers, and take myself in hand to drag the head of my dick through the slick of her while she watches me.

I push in slow, because she is tight around the first stroke every time and because I want to feel every inch of her giving way to me. The sound that leaves my chest when I bottom out is nothing I decided to make. That is the entire contents of my head for a minute, the slick grip of her and Giselle underneath me looking up like she is daring me to move.

I move slowly at first, all the way out and all the way back, her legs riding higher on me every time until her ankles lock at the small of my back. I drop to my elbow and give her my weight because that is what she wants and never says. Her ring is cold against the back of my neck. Her mouth is at my ear telling me exactly what she likes, and I give it to her harder, one hand under her ass to change the angle until she stops being able to finish her sentences.

“Sweetheart.” I bite the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, not enough to leave anything she would have to explain. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She tightens on me so fast that I have to hold still and breathe through it, her nails raking down my back. When I start again she is shaking and taking it anyway, and I put my forehead against hers.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“What you said in the kitchen.”

Her hand moves to my jaw, ring and all. “I’m going to marry you.”

That finishes me. I drive into her twice more and let go with a curse against her throat, her arms locked around my shoulders.

Her fingers move slow over the back of my neck, and I keep my mouth on her collarbone because moving seems unnecessary.

Then she lifts her left hand above us and turns it in the lamplight.

I laugh into her skin. “You checking it again?”

“It looks different from down here.”

“It looks the same.”

“It does not.” She keeps looking at it. “Come here so I can see it against you.”

I lift my head. She puts her hand flat on my chest, ring against my sternum, and studies it. Then she looks up at me and smiles.

Epilogue

Giselle

February

Nia Renée takes her hands off my head and tells me I may move.

I turn toward the mirror. My bob curves neatly beneath my jaw, one side tucked back and secured with a small jeweled comb. She has flown down from Philadelphia with enough equipment to open a salon in this room, and now she stands behind me with her arms folded, waiting for my verdict.

“I love it.”