Page 39 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” I ask.

“No, we ate at the party, remember?”She gives my hand a light squeeze. “Are you okay?”

I run my free hand through my hair. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I should tell her the truth. Sighing, I admit, “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before.”

Tilting her head, she eyes me curiously.

“What do you mean? You’ve never brought anyone here before?”

“Yeah, but I mean any of this.” I gesture between the two of us. “Our kiss on the dance floor? That was my first one. You’re the only woman I’ve wanted to kiss. I was waiting for you. I know you must have kissed other guys and done stuff. It’s just…you’re it for me.”

At first, I think the way her eyes are glistening is a trick of the moonlight. But then a tear slips down her cheek and I know it’s not. She reaches up and places a hand against my cheek and gives me a sweet smile with her trembling lips.

“It was my first too. I haven’t been attracted to anyone else like that. Haven’t wanted anyone other than you to touch me. I wasn’t waiting—I didn’t think you’d feel the way I do, but I wasn’t looking because there was no point since no one else is you.”

“So, we’re the blind leading the clueless?” I ask.

She giggles. “We aren’t clueless, we’re…inexperienced. We’ll figure it out. The rest of the human race has, no reason we can’t.”

“We can wait. I don’t want to rush you,” I say. I’ll die, but I’ll do it.

“Wait for what?”

“Until we’re married.”

Her breath catches. “Married?”

I kiss her gently and brush her hair behind her ear. “Miranda, I want to marry you, have babies with you, make a home with you. I want everything with you.”

“That’s all I’ve wanted, too,” she says, with more tears streaming from her eyes. “I want to belong somewhere and be with someone who loves me and won’t send me away. I want that someone to be you.”

My heart breaks. I hate what her parents have done to her.

“Please, Declan, make me yours.” She slips my jacket off her shoulders, and she glows in the soft moonlight.

I’ve never seen a greater temptation. “I…I wasn’t planning on this. I don’t have any condoms.”

I could go looking for some, I live with a bunch of men—and Brick. Someone must have some in their nightstand or in the bathroom, but I don’t want to invade their privacy like that.

“We’re both clean, obviously. I’ve been on the pill for years to keep my cycle regular. We should be okay. And if we aren’t, well, then we have a head start on a family?”

My heart skips a beat at the thought of Miranda carrying my child. Resting my hand on her bump the way Logan does with Daphne. Having the connection of creating a person with the woman I love. I’m trying to restrain myself from wishing her pill doesn’t work. We have years to work on that. I can be patient.

“Are you sure? I don’t want this to be something you regret.”

“I will never regret loving you, Declan.”

At her declaration, I scoop her into my arms and carry her into my bedroom, bridal-style. In a way, this feels like our wedding night. In my heart, I’ve already vowed to love, honor, cherish, and protect her until the day I die and for eternity beyond that. We are married in our hearts. A piece of paper and the blessing of a parish priest isn’t going to change anything.

She’s standing before me in her gorgeous gown. Ever since her prom I fantasized about unzipping it and watching it fall to the floor and now that dream is coming true. As she loosens my tie, I slowly lower the zipper on the back of her dress and watch as the bodice sags. I press a kiss where her shoulder meets her neck as the strap slides down. Her pulse is hammering against my lips, and I give a tiny nip eliciting a gasp from her. I soothe the spot with my tongue. My wolf is begging for me to give her a claiming mark the way it was done generations ago, but we don’t do that anymore. The thought of marring Miranda’s beautiful ivory skin permanently is something I can’t do, no matter what my wolf wants.

Her nimble fingers are undoing the buttons of my shirt and pulling it from the waistband of my slacks as I run my hands along her shoulders to finish pushing the straps down. I was expecting a gentle “whoosh” of satin, instead there was a definite thud.

“Crap, your phone. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

I bend to get it and get a gander at the black lace panties covering her most intimate area. I forget what I’m doing and stare at the scrap of lace and breathe deeply. I can smell her arousal, and it’s driving me crazy.

Tearing my gaze away from her panties, I fish her phone out of the pocket of her dress, so it doesn’t get stepped on and stretch to put it on my dresser. I do the same with my phone. Everyone I want to talk to is right here. Miranda rests her hands on my shoulders and steps out of her gown, kicking it to the side with a strappy silver high-heeled shoe. It’s a piece of footwear, but I damn near swallow my tongue seeing it on her foot. I never thought I had a foot fetish, but seeing the strap buckled around her dainty ankle makes me want to go for a swim in the pond like Mr. Darcy did in the Pride and Prejudice movie we watched one rainy weekend at Cornell.

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