𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ✓

-40-

"My baby," Naaz cooed, pulling my cheeks, then kissed them. I couldn't help but smile with my eyes closed.

It's been three weeks since she proposed to me, right in front of our parents, at my house. I was shocked when she did that, and even more shocked when she declared she was marrying me—first in my room, then in front of everyone.

"What was she thinking?" That’s what I thought at the time.

I do admire her boldness, and I love the fact that she’s so eager to marry me. I’ve wanted that for so long. I want to be with her, all the time. On top of that, my desire for her is at its peak.

I need her so badly.  I can't wait any longer.

"Baby."

"Hmm?"

"Did you like my idea for our wedding?"

I finally opened my eyes and turned my head to face her. Damn! She looks so beautiful, even in simple nightwear—a baby pink T-shirt with white trousers. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and her face was glowing in the moonlight streaming in from the window next to her balcony door.

The same door I used to meet her every night. But I plan to put a stop to that from tomorrow. This decision wasn’t easy for me, but I had to make it.

For me. For her. For all of us.

Next week, we’ll be married. She’ll be staying at my house, with me, as my wife. Just the thought fills me with warmth and brings a smile to my face.

I’m so happy and desperate to marry her, but if she found out just how eager I am, she’d probably call me crazy. Or a pervert. Because on our wedding night, I’ll make her mine. She’s going to see a side of me she never imagined---wild and passionate.

God! I'm getting desperate to fuck the hell out of her. I’m just waiting for the day to come.

But, amid all this, I’m thinking about her parents. They’ll miss her once she’s with me, so I want her to spend some quality time with them, especially with her mother.

Today, at the breakfast table, Mom told me how Aunt Sifat was crying over the phone, talking about Naaz leaving her house. She even told her that she wanted to sleep with Naaz in her room at night but noticed Naaz had been locking her door for the past few weeks… because of me.

She found it odd.

I almost choked on my food when Mom looked at me with a knowing expression. She suspects I’ve been sneaking over here to Naaz’s place at night, which is true. I tried to ignore her look and focus on my food, but her words made me almost jump out of my chair.

Almost.

"I know you go to her house every night," she said, her voice flat. "Stop it," she added sharply. "Let her parents enjoy some quality time with their daughter."