Lilah
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“No, Fox!”
“Why not?”
“Because I… I… No!”
He rolls his lips together to keep from laughing, and I get it. I do. I’m sure I look nuts right now, waving around a hairdryer and wearing nothing but pantyhose and heels, a full face of makeup, and all my jewelry.
We were moments away from walking out the door when I stopped for what I thought was going to be a quick drink and of freaking course my lid wasn’t on my bottle tight enough. Water went all over my dress.
So, here we are, me drying my dress with the hairdryer while Fox sits on the bed and waits for me to be ready to go again.
“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t complain.”
I narrow my eyes at him and his relaxed form. He’s leaning back on his arms, his long legs spread wide, his bowtie loosened around his neck once again.
I want to be annoyed by that since we really do have to leave as soon as I dry my dress, but I can’t seem to be. He looks too damn good right now for annoyance.
He lifts his hand, running it over the scruff lining his face, and fuck if that’s not hot, too.
I set the hairdryer on the counter and walk toward him, not stopping until I stand between his legs. I don’t know what I’m doing. We have to leave. We’re already going to be late for Coach Smith’s birthday party, but I can’t stop myself.
Fox doesn’t seem to mind as I slip my hand into his hair. He leans into the touch, his eyes growing heavy. I bend, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth, and he groans softly.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his hands finding my waist, his fingertips digging into me as he holds me tightly, like he’s trying to hold himself back. “We’re going to be late, Lilah.”
“As if you care.” I kiss the other side.
He chuckles. “I really don’t.”
“Then shut up and let me kiss you, Arthur.”
“I’m yours for the taking, sugar.”
And take I do.
I press my lips to his, not caring in the least that it means I’m going to have to redo my lipstick, and he opens for me instantly. Our tongues meld together, reuniting like old friends as he drags me closer. My dress doesn’t require a bra, so I’m not wearing one, and I’m reminded of the fact as my nipples brush against his suit jacket. The touch is soft, yet I feel it everywhere.
Fox must feel it too, as another soft groan leaves him. The sound vibrates through me, spurring me on. I shove on his chest, and he falls back with the pressure. I climb on top of him, our bodies lining up perfectly, mouths still fused.
His fingertips dig into me even more, no doubt leaving behind little indentions on my waist, and I can’t help it when I roll my hips against his hard cock that sits right between my legs.
Another groan, and I laugh against him, then do it again.
And again. And again. Until he’s a panting mess under me, moments away from coming in his fancy attire. I want him to. I want him to make a complete mess while he’s fully clothed and I rub myself against him. While he’s at my mercy.
He wrenches his mouth from mine.
“You’re mean,” he complains, trailing soft kisses over my jaw. “So damn mean.”
“No, I’m not. You love this.”
“I do.” He nods against me, his lips teasing at my neck. “I really fucking do.” He drags his tongue against me. “Fuck, you taste so good.”
“I bet my pussy tastes even better.”
He stops moving. Stops breathing. Then he’s choking on a strangled laugh. It sounds pained as his fingers dig into me so hard, I’m sure I will bruise later. He’s physically holding himself back from hauling me up and burying his face between my legs to see if I’m right.
“Don’t tempt me,” he warns, dragging his tongue against my neck again. “I’m liable to give in.”
“Then give in,” I tell him, grinding my already swollen clit against him again. “Taste me, Fox. Taste all of me.”
My permission is all he needs before I’m dragged up, up, up until my thighs are bracketing his head.
I’m still wearing my pantyhose, but it doesn’t deter him. No, he rips the sheer material with ease, then spears me with his tongue in one swift motion.
“Oh, god,” I cry out.
He laughs against me, then laps at me again, his hands now on my thighs holding me steady. I wish we had moved farther up the bed so I had something to hold on to, but I guess his hair will have to suffice.
I grab his dark brown locks, holding on for dear life as he sucks my clit into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. I’m not surprised. Fox knows my body better than anyone else at this point. He’s explored it enough times in the last year and a half not to.
He eats me, tasting every inch and not once relenting in his torment. I don’t want him to either. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know we should stop. That we have somewhere to be. But I can’t bring myself to care. Not when having his hands and mouth on me feels so damn good. So damn right.
“Fox,” I whine, tugging on his hair. “I’m close. So close.”
He quickens his pace, the flicks of his tongue driving me closer and closer to the edge that I’m already close to tipping over.
“Come on, sugar,” he says between long licks. “Give me what I want. Make a mess all over my face.”
I tug on his hair again. “I would if you’d stop talking and start licking.”
Another deep chuckle, and the vibrations from it are just what I was missing.
My orgasm races through me, my legs shaking on either side of Fox’s head as I hold on to him and ride the wave.
But he never relents. No, he keeps tasting me again and again until I’m shaking for a second time, making the mess he asked for.
When he finally gives me a reprieve, I slump forward, barely catching myself from face planting onto the bed and ruining my carefully done makeup.
As I struggle to catch my breath, all I can hear is my heartbeat in my ears and the clinking of metal as Fox undoes his belt.
Then I feel him and his hard cock pressing at my entrance. His hand grips my waist as he pushes inside me slowly. Torturously slow. So damn slow that by the time he’s fully seated, I’m ready to come again.
“Fuck, sugar, you should see yourself. Your pretty pussy stretched so perfectly around me, ass in the air. I wish we didn’t have anywhere to go. Wish I could stay inside you like this all night.”
I nod. “I wish it too.”
“But I can’t,” he says, slowly dragging himself back out until just the tip of him is sitting inside of me. “I can’t. Which means I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, Lilah, and I refuse to apologize for it.”
Then he slams back into me with a force that has me scooting up the bed. It doesn’t matter. He chases after me, thrusting into me over and over.
It’s hard and fast, just like he promised, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not with my third orgasm racing through me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant as he continues to rut into me relentlessly.
“Fuck is right,” he says, voice gravelly. “You feel so damn good squeezing my cock, Lilah. So perfect. So mine.”
I am his. I’ve been his since the moment he told my mother he was my boyfriend when he most certainly was not. I just didn’t know it yet.
But now… Now I know it, and I’ll tell anyone who listens.
“Always yours,” I tell him.
“Damn right,” he grits out, pumping into me harder and faster than before. “Gonna come in this sweet pussy of yours, sugar.”
“Do it, Fox. Fill me up.”
And he does. He slams into me again, then comes with a force, filling me up as promised. It’s so much that I feel it leaking out, and I hate that a little. I want to feel him in me for the rest of the night, throughout the party and even after.
When he’s finished, he slides out, using two fingers to push the cum that’s leaked out back inside of me.
Guess he wants me to feel him too.
Fox leans over me, kissing the back of my neck. “We really should go.”
“Ugh. You’re right. We’re going to be late.”
He laughs. “We’re already late.”
“But soon we’ll be so late that everyone will know what we’ve been up to.”
“Please. We all have bets on whether Coach will even show up to his own party on time because of what he’s certainly up to with his wife.”
“Do you blame him? She’s hot.”
“She is, but you’re prettier,” he tells me, kissing me again, and I know he’s not just saying it because he thinks it’s what I want to hear. He’s saying it because he genuinely believes it, and that’s what I love most about him—the way he loves me.
Fox drags me until I’m in a sitting position, then grabs my chin and brings my lips to his in a searing kiss that could easily lead to more sex if we’re not careful.
But we are. We know our limits. Or at least Fox does, since he’s the first to pull away.
I whine, and he chuckles. “I know. Make it up to you later?”
I nod. “You better.”
He helps me off the bed, buckling his pants as I head to our dresser.
We bought a small house together earlier this year after he signed another four-year deal with the Serpents. I’ve never lived with a guy before, but I have to say I don’t hate it. Not at all.
I pull open the top left drawer, but in my post-orgasm haze, I quickly realize it’s the wrong one, so I close it.
But it’s too late—I saw it.
A black box.
It is not just any black box. Not one that would house a watch, a necklace, or even a bracelet.
No. It’s the kind of box that would contain a ring. The ring.
We’ve talked about marriage a few times, but they’ve all been brief conversations. Nothing lengthy. Nothing serious.
A ring is definitely serious.
A kind of serious that I want.
I might have been engaged to Fox before but none of that was real. I want real. I want him. I want to be his wife. I want to be with him forever.
But there’s clearly a reason the ring still sits in the drawer, not on my finger. He’s not ready to ask, and I’m not about to push him to.
So instead, I pull open my drawer, grab a fresh pair of pantyhose—thankfully, I always buy multiple pairs—and pretend like I saw nothing as I remove my now ripped clothes.
“Lilah?”
I don’t turn around. He’s going to see it all over my face if I do. “Yeah?” I say, pulling on my new pair of stockings.
“You saw it, didn’t you?”
I trip, and Fox catches me before I hit the ground.
“Jesus, are you okay?” he asks once I’m righted.
I blow my hair out of my face, ignoring how my knees shake. “Yeah, yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’m good. Totally fine.”
One side of his lips kicks up. “Hmm. I’m sure you are.”
“I am.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Now he’s full-on smiling. “You know what. You saw the box, didn’t you?”
I nod, swallowing thickly. “I saw…something. I don’t know what it is or what it means. I just saw—”
“An engagement ring. And it means I want to marry you.”
He pulls open the drawer and snatches up the box.
He exhales heavily before slowly falling to one knee in front of me.
I gasp, even though I know exactly what’s happening. Still, I can’t believe it.
Fox is on one knee before me. He’s holding a black box. He’s looking at me like I’m his everything.
“Lilah Jane Maddison” My name falls off his lips like a love song. “I did this once before. I got down before you and I asked you to marry me. It was for show, and I told myself it meant nothing.” He laughs quietly. “Man, I was wrong. It definitely meant something. Hell, I think it meant everything. And I meant those words more than I ever realized I did. So, I’m going to repeat them, this time knowing their full weight.”
He clears his throat.
“I fell in love with you on our first date. You were radiant, eating nachos and drinking sparkling jalapeño lime lemonade at my kitchen counter. I knew then that our love was the kind you hear about in fairy tales.”
A smile breaks across my face, thinking of our first date.
“I wasn’t looking for forever, but that’s exactly what I found in you. You brought something into my life I didn’t know I was missing.”
Just like the first time he said it, his voice softens, his words growing heavier, more serious. The rest of the world fades away. It’s just me and him. His hair a mess from my hands and my pantyhose not even pulled all the way up my legs.
We look so ridiculous, and I don’t care. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not with Fox.
“You’re brilliant and kind and beautiful,” he continues. “And your wit might be my favorite thing about you. You make me laugh and smile. And you make me really, really damn happy. It would be an absolute honor to be your husband.”
He grins and mine widens, because I know what’s coming next. And I know exactly what I’m going to say.
“So, what do you say, Lilah? Will you marry me?”
The words are barely out before I nod and say, “Yes, yes, yes!”
He jumps to his feet, his arms going around me as he kisses me hard, and I let him. Sure, I’m going to have to redo all my makeup now, but I don’t care. This moment is worth it.
I have no idea how long we kiss. I’d say too long, but I don’t think that exists with Fox.
Either way, when we finally pull apart, I have to wipe away the tears spilling from my eyes. Fox does the same.
“Shit. I told myself I wouldn’t cry. Guess Lawson won that bet.”
“You made a bet you wouldn’t cry? With Lawson? Wait, does everyone know?”
He nods. “Yeah. I mean, not the when or the how, but they’ve known for a while that I wanted to propose. I was waiting for the perfect moment.”
I look down at my half-dressed state. “And it was now?”
“Well, you saw the ring, didn’t you?”
“I saw a box. I haven’t seen the ring yet.”
“Oh, right.” He holds the black box before him, and it pops open with a distinctive sound.
A gorgeous teardrop-shaped ring with two smaller diamonds sits in the middle of a silver band. It’s simple yet elegant.
“Fox, this is…” I shake my head, those damn tears stinging my eyes again. “This is gorgeous.”
“Yeah? I’m glad you like it. I was nervous. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel.” He takes it out of the box, tossing it aside. “May I?”
I hold my hand out to him, watching as he slowly slides it into place.
“A perfect fit,” I say, marveling at the ring on my finger. “A perfect ring too.”
He grins. “See those smaller diamonds? Those are from your grandmother’s ring.”
About six months after the scene we caused at the restaurant with Fox’s parents and my own, my grandmother’s ring arrived in the mail with a note that said, “This is still yours.”
That was it.
I knew instantly that it was from my mother. It’s the only contact I’ve had with her since, and likely the only contact I’ll have for a long time to come. I’m still too angry at my parents to speak to them.
But knowing that Fox took the ring I always loathed to wear and turned it into something I now want… Well, it just proves the kind of man he is—a good one.
“It’s gorgeous. It’s perfect. It’s…” I look up at him. “Thank you, Arthur. Thank you so much.”
“Thank me? I should be thanking you. You’re the one who said yes.”
“And I’d say it again a thousand times over.”
“Yeah?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me until I’m tucked against him. The perfect fit. “A thousand times?”
“Ten thousand.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Yeah? Me too.” I push to my toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Arthur.”
“I love you more, sugar.”
I want to argue with him because it’s impossible, but I don’t. Instead, I let him kiss me again. Softly. Slowly. Sweetly.
This time, when he pulls away, I don’t whine. I don’t complain. Because I know that I get to do this for the rest of my life, and I can’t imagine anything better.
“Now,” he says, grinning down at me, “let’s get to that party, fiancée.”
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