"For you and you alone," he promises, craning his neck so he can put a kiss on the corner of her mouth, at the very least. One of his hands runs up and down her stomach, just to touch her, and then gently cups her sex. "Anything."
"Is this where I tell you that you have to earn it?" he teases in turn, but as he lifts her and rises to his feet with her in his arms like a bride, he does lean in to kiss her on the mouth.
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And more than a little pleased with himself.
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"As am I. I should ask you to marry me," she teases.
Yeah, she remembers.
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"I should ask when it's more romantic than this," he says.
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"The answer will be yes, whenever you ask," she promises. "With a vow to ask you to wear silly things more often."
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"I'll make sure you're rewarded handsomely." With less choking.
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"You're too kind," he says. "But that day will come soon. I just want it to be perfect."
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"Don't worry yourself too much about perfect."
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"May I take you to bed and hold you, then?"
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"You may, if you give me a kiss before and after the journey."
Because it's so terribly far away from their spot on the floor.
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"If I can earn it from the bed, I will happily listen to your demands, my love."