Page 25 of When In Rome
“If we had a wedding night to go along with our wedding.”
I watch her sweet face go blank. “Wedding night?”
I lower my eyes to where the covers are pooling as she sits cross-legged and lift my eyebrows.
“Oh! I…oh, Rome? What…How…?”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get all worked up over nothing. We were both drunk off our asses. It’s very likely that…”
“What? That what? You couldn’t…”
“Yeah, that’s not…there’s not enough alcohol in the world to keep my dick down if you were anywhere near me and naked.” She gives me a little whimper of despair. “Look, I’m a big…man. You would be able to tell if I…”
I give her a look and nod my head.
“What? I would know…okay, stop. Let’s just back up. Speak in full fucking sentences and don’t do any of that double-talk bullshit. Just spit it out. What would I know?”
“Okay, look, sunshine. My dick is big, a lot bigger than most men. If I fucked you, you would still be feeling me. And trust me, when I get all up inside of you, you’re going to have to take at least a day off before you walk again.”
“Conceited much?”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger and just fling the sheet off me.
“Holy shit, Rome! You…you have the fucking Colosseum between your fucking legs. Oh my God! How the fuck do you walk with that thing? Is it always so big? Are you a grower or a shower because damn…if that thing gets any bigger…”
“It’s got feelings, sunshine. Don’t be talking about it like it doesn’t?” I cover my dick back up and rearrange myself. It actually is getting bigger the longer she has her eyes on it.
“Oh, sorry. Um, sorry.” She actually addresses the second sorry to my crotch and I have to fight back the grin that wants to stretch across my lips. “You…you think…no. I would freakin’ know. Like you said. That thing won’t even go inside of me so…”
“Oh, it'll go in, baby.”
“There is no way in hell that thing is going to fit in me. You’ve…no way.”
“It’ll fit.” I hold up my two fingers together, “Why do you think I’ve been slowly stretching you?”
She looks between my fingers and my eyes and back again, “You…you want to…fuck me?”
“Hell yes. Why do you think it’s so fucking big right now? It wants to as well.”
“But you always tell me no when I ask you!” She says it like it might be proof she’s right and has been right all along.
“Baby, I could barely fit my pinkie in your pussy the first time I ate you.” I give her a cocked eyebrow which in essence is the mike drop moment I win this argument.
Her mouth falls into a perfect ‘O’ before she actually verbalizes the word, “Oh. I guess that…that…um, would be…so you do want to…”
“Make love to you. Yeah, sunshine. I do. But I also don’t want to hurt you or make you not want to do it with me ever again.” I make sure to correct her word usage between the word ‘fuck’ and my choice, ‘make love’.
“So, we’re both pretty sure we didn’t…that means we can annul it!” She says it like it is the best news she’s heard all day long. But I’m not smiling.
“We could. But I think that would take some paperwork and time.” Like for-fucking-ever since I don’t plan to do it.
“Oh.” She deflates a little. “But…um, we can…have it annulled, right?”
“Do you want it annulled?”
“As opposed to a divorce? Yeah, kind of. I mean, they have to have rules about being drunk and not in your right mind, right? We’re not the only couple who drank a bunch of wine and…and…did something both of us regret. Right?”
She stands taking the sheet with her leaving me to grab the pillow to put over my growing erection. I try to talk myself down. I try to rationalize the fact she just said she regretted marrying me because she’s scared and kind of stunned. I try so hard but she just keeps talking.