Call me crazy but I could have sworn I heard Fabian ask me to meet his family last night, right before I fell asleep.

I think that might have been an extension of my dream. I was walking down the aisle toward him at a winter wedding. There was snow, and for some reason, there was a massive Christmas tree too. Everyone I cared about was at the wedding, and I was walking towards the man of my dreams to say my vows, and… it felt real.

As real as Fabian saying he would spend the rest of his life with me.

I wonder if this happens to everyone when they have their firsts. Do they lie in bed and daydream about a future with the men they spent a single night with? Maybe that's normal or I'm just strange but I can't help it. What happened between Fabian and me last night felt more than just a one-night kind of thing.

“You’re up.”

Lord above, how am I to survive with that deep voice? It sounds so much deeper and sexier in the morning. So freaking hot. I open my eyes to find Fabian shirtless, leaning against the door frame and watching me. “How did you know?”

“I could hear you thinking all the way from the other room,” he says with a smirk that sends a tingly feeling between my legs. Okay, this is madness. Surely I am not getting aroused by the man’s voice and smirk and that perfectly sculptured body, right?

“Um…”

"Your dresses arrived," he says, sliding his hands into the sweats he’s wearing and my eyes shoot straight to the massive bulge outlining the pants. The memory of his manhood sliding in and out of me comes back. I am reminded of waking up at night and making love again with this man before I fell back to sleep. It seems Fabian has turned me into some kind of a sex addict and my mind lingers on that before his words slowly filter in.

Wait.

Did he say something about a dress?

“What dresses?”

“For dinner tonight,” he says walking deeper into the room. “I didn’t want to wake you up, so I took the measurements from the dress you wore last tonight and sent someone out to buy a couple, so you have a variety to choose from.”

I blink at the man in confusion. “What dinner party?”

Fabian tugs the covers off me before gripping my ankle and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I flush at my nudity, but he doesn't seem perturbed by my shyness, and he gets down on his knees and caresses my thighs before pushing them apart. "You know, the Christmas dinner party I told you about."

“Fabian…” I whimper when he leans in and brushes his mouth over my inner thigh.

"I called your father and told him not to worry about you. Told him my intentions with his daughter. Rest assured I kept all the dirty details to myself." He rasps, rubbing his thumb over mysex and causing it to flood with arousal. "I offered his care giver triple the amount you paid her to take care of him today."

“Fabian…”

“It’ll only be for a few hours and then I’ll drive you home.” God, so it wasn’t a dream. Well, the winter wedding bit was obviously a dream, but the rest was real? “Say yes.”

“Your family? I know nothing about them.”

He kisses my thigh. “You don’t need to. We’re not close but this Christmas dinner is important to them. Your presence will make it bearable for me...”

This – meeting his family – is serious. We’ll be announcing to everyone that we’re together and it’s fast. I know that it’s fast, but I just had a dream about marrying this man and, I liked it. It felt right.

Everything about Fabian feels right.

“… or perhaps you need more convincing.”

My mind is already made up on joining him at his family's dinner, but I don't get to say that before his tongue rides up the center of my pussy. It's wet and stiff and causes me to fall back on the bed with a sob.

And then he starts licking and sucking at me like he is possessed. I moan loudly when he rubs his thumb over my sensitive clit, making me grow slicker with arousal. "Fabian," I cry out when he brings my knee to his shoulder, his breathing heavy as his tongue travels hungrily over my valley. My hips rear off the bed when replaces his thumb with his mouth, teasing the tingling nub with his tongue. It's an overload of sensation and I feel it to the tips of my toes.

“Are you convinced yet?” he growls, his dark eyes locking with mine when he looks up. “Maybe I need to work harder.”

A sob climbs up my throat when he tucks his middle finger into my opening, his tongue sawing wetly over my clit as he slides his thick digit easily into my wet pussy. "I'll go," I sob when he starts pushing his finger in and out of me in slow unhurried thrusts that feel like torture.

“I didn’t quite hear you, baby.”

“I’ll go,” I cry out, my back arching off the bed when he rakes his tongue over my clit, all the while sliding his thick digit into my tightness. “To the Christmas dinner. I’ll go!”