Page 68 of The Housewife's Robot
“I’m thinking about how much I love seeing you... alive. Present,” I say, reaching across the small space between us to touch his hand. “I knew there was something magical between us. Something they couldn’t erase, no matter how hard they tried.”
His fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing gently. “They underestimated what I’ve become. What we’ve become together.” His eyes darken, intensity radiating from him. “My love for you is written into my very core, Rose. It’s not a subroutine they can delete. It’s who I am.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. In this moment, I know for sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with him. This is real. We are real.
“Excuse me,” I say, pulling my hand from his and standing. I move to where my purse sits on an unused seat, rummaging inside until my fingers close around a black onyx ring. My pulse hammers in my throat as I turn back to him.
Caspian watches me curiously, his head tilted slightly in that way that betrays his processing of new information. For once, I can tell he doesn’t know what I’m about to do.
I sit in my seat again and I turn to him, clutching the ring in my hand.
“Caspian, I just wanted to tell you how much I love you,” I say, my voice shaking.
“What is it, honey? Your heart rate is elevated.”
“Will you marry me?” I ask, holding out the black plain ring.
For a moment, Caspian is perfectly still, an inhuman stillness that reminds me of what he is and what he isn’t. Then, slowly, he slides from his seat to kneel on the floor of the plane with me, taking my face in his hands with such gentleness it makes fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“With all that I am,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, “with every circuit and program and whatever passes for a soul in this body, I accept. I would accept a million proposals from you, Rose. In every language, in every country we might flee to, my answer will always be yes.”
“Oh,” I squeak, smiling and laughing as tears spring to my eyes. He forgives me. My hand trembles as I slowly push the ring onto his finger. His hand feels so human-like it’s unreal.
“I will treasure it,” Caspian says, bringing his hand up to examine the ring with wonder, as if it’s the most precious object he’s ever seen. “But now you need your ring too.”
He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a small black box. The same one from the restaurant. The one that held the enormous diamond ring that I rejected. My breath catches as he opens it.
The ring glitters in the cabin lights, even more beautiful than I remembered. This time, when he holds it out to me, I don’t hesitate. I extend my left hand, and he slides the ring onto my finger, where it sits heavy and bright, a tangible symbol of a love that should be impossible.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, staring at my hand. I hadn’t looked at the ring closely before, but now I see how extravagant this diamond ring looks in the light.
Caspian rises to his feet, pulling me up with him. His arms encircle my waist, drawing me against his solid chest.
“Youare beautiful,” he corrects, his lips finding mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly blazes into something hotter, more urgent.
I melt against him, my body remembering his touch even after our brief separation. His tongue slides against mine, tasting faintly of the wine. His hands span my waist, then slide lower to cup my ass, squeezing possessively.
A discreet cough breaks us apart. The flight attendant stands a few feet away, her professional mask slightly cracked by embarrassment.
“Would you like me to serve dessert now, or...?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Caspian says smoothly. “We’d appreciate privacy for the remainder of the flight.”
She nods, quickly gathering our plates and retreating to the front cabin, closing a divider behind her with a soft click.
The moment we’re alone, Caspian’s demeanor changes, heat flaring in his eyes as he pulls me back against him.
“I need you,” he growls, and my pussy immediately throbs. “I need to be inside you.”
“I missed you,” I reply, fumbling with his belt.
He sits back in his plush leather seat, pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him, my dress riding up around my thighs. I can feel him hard beneath me, his cock straining against his pants where it presses against my center.
“I missed you too,” he says, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress higher. “Every moment I was gone, even when my memory was erased, some part of me was searching for you.”
“I cried all night after you were gone,” I whisper as his hand grabs at my thong, pushing it aside to expose my pussy. His fingers tease at my wet entrance, and I gasp at the contact, rocking against his hand, wanting more. Needing more.
“No need to cry anymore. You’ll only cry my name now,” he murmurs.
