Page 30 of A Wulver for the Week

“My blessing, son. When are you going to pop the question?”

“Pop the question?” Grandpa Barty is suddenly next to us, his silvery white eyebrows arched on his tan forehead. “Wedding fever strikes again. Reflections is known for its romantic atmosphere.”

I can’t argue with that. “No one tell Minnie,” I hiss. “Don’t worry, Barty, I don’t intend to upstage the wedding. I don’t think that’s possible with all the trouble you’ve taken to create the perfect week in paradise.”

Would a proposal make it more perfect or less? When Minnie said that... Was she just getting her mother off her back? What if she meant it but not now? She’s a sensible woman. She’d like us to date for a while before a proposal, I’m sure.

“Well, don’t leave it too long now. Did I hear someone say you two have been dating for six months? And she chose you to attend this family wedding with her? My, my. That’s serious,” Barty muses with a wise nod.

“If it were up to me, I’d ask tomorrow. I mean—the next day. The day after the wedding. But somewhere private. I’m not one for taking big risks in public.” I shudder as I imagine Minerva’s pitying face, the slow shaking of her head if she says no...

“Risk! What risk?” Mr. Johnson pounds me on the back. “The girl is crazy about you.”

“Aye, I hope so,” I manage to laugh it off, but a little part of me wonders, is being crazy about someone enough to make you want to spend the rest of your lives together?

“MY GAW... LOOK AT YOU! You’re too pretty to touch. And this is just the rehearsal dinner. What will ye look like tomorrow?” Craig demands when I sashay out of the elevator and meet him on the ground floor.

The rehearsal dinner is about to start, but all the ladies are still arriving with perfectly pampered skin and mani-pedis.What’s crazy is that ten of us will have to do some version of this tomorrow for the wedding, when a professional team of aestheticians and stylists will descend on us to fix our hair and faces.

“Tomorrow, I’ll look this good, but in my bridesmaid dress,” I laugh and slide over to him. I’m wearing white at the behest of the bride. All the bridesmaids are in white tonight, and Gerri is in stunningly bold flamingo pink. Tomorrow, the palette reverses, with her in a white mermaid gown and all of us in shades of pink and coral.

“You look like a bride,” he whispers, hand coming up to cup my cheek.

“Well... Thank you.”

“You ever think about when you’d like to get married?”

“Um. Like before next year, so my mother can stop hounding me about tying the knot.” I groan as I lean against him (although I am walking much better now). “Of course, then she’ll start hounding me about making babies.”

I feel Craig stiffen up next to me. “Babies? How many would you want?”

I look up at him, eyes twinkling. He’s so obvious right now—and so sweet. I’m not sure if he’s panicking thinking about kids or panicking because he’s trying not to throw me to the ground and rut me into the polished wooden floor. “That’s a decision between the parents, you know. Of course, compatible couples have similar ideas about parenting and offspring.”

“Three or four,” he blurts.

Chills dance along my spine. “That’s what I’ve always said, too. Exactly that. Three or four. Like, three is what I kind of envision in the house altogether, but then I bet you I get one more burst of baby fever and want another.”Especially now that I know how delicious making those babies can be.

I haven’t seen Craig all day. He’s been fishing. I’ve been spa-ing. Now that we’re back together, it’s like magnet meeting metal. All I can think about is drawing him to me. Into me. Feeling myself stretched so full that my pussy does new incredible things and gives me those bone-melting orgasms that I never knew existed.

“I am so tempted to rip you out of that dress and chase ye again, Little Red,” he purrs in my ear.

“I’m so tempted to let you,” I whisper back.

“Maybe you don’t want to make any bairns just yet, but you know how careful I am. Always taking the extra step. Extra time. I think I’d like to practice some more. Would you like that?”

Like running down the beach until he catches me, pushes me into the sand, and devours me right there in the moonlight?

God, yes.

Or does he mean practice pumping his cock into me, getting me to take that knot?I picture sitting on it, bouncing on it, making myself come as I grind myself to him before my pussy gives in with that wet plop and he fits into me with a stretch that brings tears to my eyes and makes my spine buckle.

“Yes.”Yes, either way.

“I don’t know how I can possibly keep my mind on dinner when all I want to eat is wrapped in this pretty white frock right next to me.” Craig runs his hand over my waist and stops at my hip, grabbing.

“You have to behave,” I giggle.

“All right, sweetheart, but only if you promise we can act out another fairytale tonight.”

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