Page 102 of Making the King

“Don’t worry about it, Mama,” Rose sniggers. “Just wait for us here.”

I give up on questioning them when Sasha refills my cup, and insists we toast to me living the rest of my life monogamous to one cock.

“It’s a travesty, really,” she slurs. “We aren’t meant to only have one dick for the rest of our life.”

Cilla cackles like a fucking witch. “You only say that because you can barely stick to one per night.”

Sasha nods eagerly. “Too damn right. What’s the point of having all those lovely looking dicks around if I can’t sample them all?”

I burst out laughing, almost falling off the fucking chair that I swear is spinning. “Why keep looking if I’ve already found the perfect one?”

“Cock or man?” Izzy asks as she looks at me out of the corner of her eyes.

“Both,” I giggle. “Rocco is… both.”

Did that make sense? Fuck, I don’t know, and with the way the room is spinning, I don’t really care.

Rose and Alana return, each carrying a plastic bag that they place on the table before retaking their seats. After downing a few shots, they pull a few presents from the bag and shove them in front of me.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing at the wrapped boxes. “I thought I made it clear there’d be no presents.”

“They’re not from us,” Alana sing-songs.

“That’s right,” Rose nods emphatically. “We didn’t wrap ours.”

Izzy grins. “And they’re not presents,” she says with a wink.

“That’s right,” Cilla interjects. “We’re only lending you a few things.”

I take a large swig of the tequila as I try to decipher their well-rehearsed speech. “Okay. So these presents aren’t from you?”

They all shake their heads, which is all I need to know who they’re from.

“Rocco,” I breathe.

I reach for the first present and quickly unwrap it. The Cunts laugh like a fucking pack of hyenas when I reveal the black leather collar. Attached to it are two chains and at the end of each chain dangles a blue nipple clamp.

“Something new and blue,” I say as soon as it dawns on me what I’m looking at.

My fucking husband.

“Keep going,” Izzy encourages.

I frown in confusion as I open the next present. “Purple highlight kit?” I don’t know why I’m phrasing it like a question when that’s exactly what it is.

“Yep,” Sasha says, popping the P.

I keep looking at the hair dye, wondering what that’s all about. I don’t usually dye my hair, and I haven’t since… “Oh,” I gasp. “Something to bring back my old look.”

Cilla laughs again. “Told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.”

I don’t pay attention to the money changing hands, all I can think about is my overwhelming need to be with Rocco. To have him with me, tradition be damned.

Before I can decide if I want to interrupt my… bachelorette party, or whatever you call it when you’re already married, Sasha and Alana drag me toward the small bathroom.

“Let’s get your hair done before we’re too drunk,” Sasha laughs.

Even after all these years, sweat still runs down my spine and my breathing becomes ragged as I get closer to the tiled room. Fuck, will I ever get rid of this fucking sinking feeling?