Page 44 of The Proposal

Her words die off, but she doesn’t need to finish that sentence. They no longer had a mother to make a fuss. I get it. Papa still acknowledged Alexander’s and my birthdays and would give us a wad of cash to mark the celebration, but even that lacked the special little details only a mother can provide. The love she poured into the cake she baked, the warmth of her smile as she watched us open gifts, or how she’d make the day feel like magic with her presence alone.

“Once you’ve wrapped them and written on her card, I’ll mail them.”

“I appreciate that.”

We also bought Lucia a phone, which made sense since she’ll likely be the only person Arabella calls. The less my wife deals directly with her father, the better.

“It may not arrive by her birthday, but once she gets her gifts, you can talk with her whenever you want.”

“That’s if Papa doesn’t confiscate it.”

“He better not,” I growl.

“Thank you again for today. You have no idea how much it meant to me.”

“Like I’ve told you countless times, you don’t need to keep thanking me.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, so I lean in and place my lips on hers, effectively cutting her off. That’s enough talking; I have more important things to do.

My hand moves from her hip to that peachy round arse of hers, slipping under the nightgown. A growl rumbles in the back of my throat as I palm her arse cheek over her underwear.

It doesn’t take long for our kiss to heat up, and fuck I love the way this woman kisses me. She puts her whole heart into it.

I lift her leg, draping it over my hip. My cock is hard as stone as I begin to rock my hips forward, hitting her right in the sweet spot … over and over again. I need inside this woman so fucking bad, but I have to constantly remind myself that I’m playing the long game here.

My movements are limited in this position, so I eventually roll her onto her back and settle between her spread legs.

She moans into my mouth as I start thrusting against her; each move seems to be more desperate than the last. Even through my boxers, I feel her wetness, and it’s such a fucking turn-on.

Her hand is curled around my hip, and her fingers move to dip beneath the elastic of my underwear, tugging them down slightly and exposing the head of my dick.

“I need to feel you here,” she pants, wrapping her dainty hand around my dick and dragging it down towards her opening. Fuck, I need to feel that too. If we keep going at it like this, I’m going to end up with friction burn.

“You want my cock inside you?” I ask, partly excited and a little terrified, that the time has finally come. I don’t want to hurt her, but I know that’s inevitable … especially in the beginning.

I was fifteen years old the first time I took someone’s virginity, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience for either of us. Although the girl was a few years older than me and begged me to fuck her, she ended up crying through the entire ordeal despite my asking her numerous times if she wanted me to stop. I’m surprised I even managed to blow in the end. It put me off virgins, and I avoided them at all costs going forward.

Arabella isn’t just anyone, though; she’s my wife, and I understand the importance of this. I’m honoured I get to be the first man inside her, and if I have my way, I’ll be the last.

“No. Through my underwear,” she answers. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for anything more yet.”

I love that she’s not afraid to ask for what she wants, butagain, I feel mixed emotions. Partly relieved but also incredibly disappointed.

Pushing up onto one elbow, I wrap my hand around my dick, stroking it a few times. I glance down between us and line myself up with her wet spot.

She whimpers when I roll my hips forward, and a small fraction of my cock pushes inside her, but the fabric of her underwear stops me from going any further, and fuck me, she’s tight. I want to rip that underwear aside and drive all the way home, but I know I can’t.

I draw back and do it again and again, each stroke a combination of pleasure and pain. It feels good, but it’s not nearly enough.I need more.I’m always going to need more where this woman is concerned.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” I groan against her skin.

“I want …”

When she doesn’t finish her sentence, I draw back and meet her gaze. “What,Bellezza? What do you want?”

“I want to feel you rub down there without my underwear in the way, but I don’t want you to push inside.”

“Jesus,” I murmur as I bury my face in the crook of her neck. I’m not sure I can be trusted to do that. It’s like placing a cookie in front of a small child and asking them not to eat it. “Are you sure you want me to move your underwear aside?”

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