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“It’s changed everything between us,” he says.
My heart sinks. “It has?”
“Yes.” He strokes my hair back from my face. “I love you even more. Which I didn’t think was possible. I love you, and I already love our baby.”
“Oh, good,” I breathe out as he plants sweet kisses all over my face.
“And it’s changed another thing as well.” He’s lifting my shirt, kissing over my belly. Going lower, delicate kisses tingling my skin.
“What else has it changed?” The words breathlessly fall from my lips, my fingers stroking his soft hair.
He keeps kissing. Lower. Pushing my pants and panties off. His lips caress my inner thighs. “We’re going to be a family. The three of us.” Kisses move over my pussy, brushing against my sensitive lips. “There’s only one thing left to do.”
I can’t breathe. “What else is left to do?”
“Marry me, Lily.” And he buries his face in my pussy, kissing, licking, sucking.
“Yes!” I call out, both answering his question and celebrating his amazing tongue.
My back arches, liquid heat flowing through my veins, relaxing my entire body. He keeps kissing with that experienced mouth, making my inner body tighten to a coil, a spring, ready to explode. I hit the edge of my limit, tumbling into a trembling orgasm. “Yes! God. Yes!”
He laughs, his chuckle vibrating against me as he pulls away.
“Would you like another orgasm?” He looks up at me, a naughty smile on his handsome face. “Mrs. Bachman?”
“Oh, that sounds so pretty. Mrs. Bachman.” So official, so grown up.
His fingers stroke my wet pussy. “Have you made your decision, my wife to be? Would you like another orgasm?”
“Yes, please.” And he kisses me, warm and wet, pulling me under for another round, another mind-blowing climax. I cling to his shoulders, trying not to smother my new fiancé with my clenching thighs.
Mrs. Bachman. One of them. A member of the family.
The memory of Claudia’s words rings out in my mind, a conversation we had that now feels like a lifetime ago, when she told me, ‘The whole thing is a little dark ages, a little sexist, but if you’re a woman, the only way in is by marriage.’
But she was wrong.
So wrong.
Marriage is just a cherry on top. The only way into the Bachman family?—
Is love.
CHAPTER 29
Rockwell
I stand at the altar, a white linen-covered table teeming with pink and green flowers and foliage. Bronson and a line of men stand to my right, dressed in three-piece suits with silk ties, women to my left, donned in couture gowns. Claudia, my best man, is to my left, wearing a black gown, she says, as a funeral to my bachelorhood and, as she so lovingly added, stupidity, making me promise never to make such a mistake with my precious Lily again.
I will never.
White lights twinkle like stars, strung above us on the rooftop bar we typically use for this purpose. Soft music plays and the scent of garlic and butter, food being prepared for afterwards, lingers in the warm night breeze.
I wait.
My bride arrives at the end of the rows of people. Her beauty takes my breath away, and air hitches in my lungs as I take her in, from the pretty veil she wears perched at the top of her head to the simple, elegant thin-strapped gown she wears, the material shifting over her curves as she moves.
Her eyes find me and she smiles, lighting up my whole world.
