After a long, hot bath, she knelt in front of me in the drained tub and wrapped her lips around my cock. Let me fuck that pretty, pert, dirty mouth of hers until I came in her throat, and she swallowed every last drop of me, licking and sucking my cock clean, not stopping until she’d found every final drop.
From the bath, we moved on to the bedroom, then back to the shower, until we finally collapsed in bed somewhere near dawn. But I woke again only an hour later, from the early morning light painting the curtains. This time, I didn’t awaken her. I simply lay quiet, watching her sleep beside me, studying the way the light played across her features.
The ring on her finger threw an extra added illumination, bright and rainbow colored, across her cheekbones. It lit up her eyelids, the soft place where they lay along her cheekbones. She looked like a renaissance painting, the image of some beautiful girl who inspired poets and painters alike back in her day.
It makes me want to wake up early every morning. To see her in the dawn light every day for the rest of my life. A weight lifts off of my chest as I realize that… I can. I’ll be able to do that now.
All this time, when I thought I was looking for a fake wife, here I was actually wanting a real one. A family, a life of my own. Kids like the ones who have made my siblings so happy in their own lives. A partner like the one my father had all his life, who will be there with me through thick and thin, and improve every day we have together.
Melanie is going to be my wife. Once and for all. And in agreeing to that, she’s made me the happiest man in the whole damn city. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives together to start.
Her eyelids flutter once, twice. Then her eyes flicker open, and she catches me staring. A sleepy, perfect little grin appears on her mouth. “What are you looking at?” she murmurs, her voice deliciously thick and soft from sleep.
I stretch out beside her and pull her close, until our foreheads are touching and my arms twine around her sides, my hands flat against her back. “My future wife,” I whisper in response, which only makes her sleepy smile widen.
Even at this hour, even waking up fresh out of sleep, she’s glorious. She’s more than I ever could have hoped or dreamed of in a wife. She makes me want to be a better, stronger person. To build a life for her, for both of us. To create a family.
“You aren’t regretting this?” she asks, half joking, though I can hear a real note of worry under her tone. “I mean, you went into this thinking the whole thing would be fake. That we’d be splitting up soon.”
“True.” I pick up a stray strand of her hair and coil it around my finger, watching it spring back when I release it. “But that was before I spent more time with you.” I grin. “Before I realized how damn addicting you would be.” I slide my hand down to cup her cheek, my thumb tracing the arch of her cheekbone. “Before I thought about how terrible letting you go would feel.” My forehead scrunches with worry. “When I came home, and I found the penthouse empty… when Andrew told me you’d gone to the airport to fly home, I….” I shake my head slowly. “It all hit me. I realized what it would feel like to lose you, and it was like ripping my own heart out. Because for the past few weeks, having you here with me, I’ve finally understood what having a home means.
“The penthouse was empty until you came and filled it up. My life was empty, filled with meaningless work and money problems, until you came and showed me what’s really important. You complete me, Melanie. And I don’t ever want to go back to the way life was before. I don’t want to live without you.”
Tears shine along the corners of her eyes. She can’t suppress her smile, and she doesn’t try to. She lets it bloom across her face, huge and happy and filled with wonder. It’s the same kind of half-awed, half-appreciative smile she wore when she first stepped off that elevator into this penthouse weeks ago. Her “I can’t quite believe this is real” smile. I love it. It’s the time that she looks the most like herself.
“I didn’t want to leave either,” she breathes. “When I went to the airport, it felt like my heart was going to shatter on that plane ride home. But… I was scared.” Her breath hitches. “I thought you didn’t want me, not for real. And I didn’t know what would happen with our baby; I didn’t know if I could handle all of it on my own, and—”