D E R E K ' S   P O V

Twenty minutes later we're still in the closet, because Layla just had to give me a run down of how she's planning on setting it up. Or rather where I'm going to put everything while she bosses me around.

I couldn't care less about what side of the closet she's going to put her dresses and heels, and what side she's going to put her purses and belts or where her work, casual and comfy clothes are going to go, but I can't find it in me to stop her. She's beaming with excitement and I'm loving watching every second of it.

"My bras can go in here," She says, opening up one of the empty drawers and I can't help but smile at her antics. She opens up the next one. "Socks and underwear." She slides open the third drawer, pumping her eyebrows suggestively. "All the sexy lingerie I'm going to buy as a thank you."

When I bought this house this room was completely empty and I didn't have enough clothes to fill it. I don't even think every piece of clothing I've ever owned would fill this place, but then I met Layla and knew it would be absolutely perfect for her. I've remodel it into her own personal 'Kim Kardashian level walk in wardrobe', her words, not mine.

"Okay road runner," I chuckle lightly and grab her hips as she tries to pass me, mumbling something about getting hangers and dividers. "Time for bed."

When she steps into me my hands gently tap the back of her thighs and her little jump allows me to lift her into my arms and Layla wraps her legs around me, draping her arms over my shoulders.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," There's a gorgeous glimmer of appreciation in her eyes as Layla peppers my face with kisses, finishing with one on my lips. "I love it, Derek. Thank you."

"Anything for you." There is quite literally nothing I wouldn't do for her. The fact that I get to be the one she smiles at like that is the greatest gift I'll ever receive.

I can't help but take a second to appreciate that she's finally home with me and I'm feeling the warmth of her skin on mine, surrounded by her sweet smell, relishing in the fact that she's in my arms, wrapped around me like she never wants to let go.

We don't stay in silence for too long, because as usual, my girlfriend comes out with an outlandish statement that really makes me question how her brain works sometimes. "I can't believe some random guy I slept with in a dirty bar bathroom did all this for me."

"Oh yeah?" My hand slips under her shirt, punching her side playfully. "That's all I am to you?"

"Well.." There's a repeating teasing tone in Layla's tone as she shrugs her shoulders slowly. "You could be my fiancé if you'd grow a pair and ask me already."

I had planned on proposing to Layla the weekend we got into that fight.

It was all organised, things were put in place, flights were booked and it was the only thing on my mind that week, so much so that I unintentionally avoided speaking to her because I didn't trust myself not to blurt it out in front of her. Then she came into the kitchen that morning and told me about her doctor's appointment and that she was going to on bed rest all weekend and the only reason I got so annoyed when she said that was because I couldn't propose to her then and I am absolutely loosing my mind waiting to put that ring on her finger.

So right now my main concern is to rework the plan and propose to the love of my life as soon as possible. So I tuck her hair behind her ear, smiling when I say, "Soon. I promise."

As defiant as ever, Layla jerks back with a deep dent between her brows. "No. Do it now."

"Right now?" I chuckle and she nods. "No."

Her face drops. "Oh, so you hate me then?"

I can't with her. "How did you end up there?"

Here comes the pout and puppy dog eyes. "If you loved me enough you'd do it now."

"Ah, guilt tripping at its finest."

Layla's giggle feeds into the playful side of this conversation. "Look, you don't even need a ring, just—"

"Who says I don't have a ring?"

Okay yeah, I shouldn't have said that because it's honestly like that statement lit fireworks inside Layla. Her jaw drops and her eyes widen and she desperately tries to wiggle herself out of my arms, no doubt to go look for the ring.

"I'm lying!" I yell but it's no use. Layla is already thrashing, wiggling, worming her way out of my arms. "I don't have a ring!"

"Yeah," Layla snorts. "Right." I'm getting borderline abused here as she continues her efforts. Slaps, kicks, punches. Can you tell she's excited? It doesn't hurt, obviously. It's actually making me really happy that she's this excited about the idea of marrying me.

"Babe, stop!" I'm laughing now. I can't not. "You can't go looking for it!"

"I'm not," She says defensively, still fighting against me even though she absolutely is. "I have to pee. Let me down."

I keep her in my arms as I walk us to the attached bathroom in our bedroom before I finally place her down.

Layla stares at me.

I stare back at her.

She blinks at me.

I blink at her.

"I don't have to pee."

"I know."

"I was going to look for the ring."

"I know."

Nobody moves. Nobody blinks. We're in a silent standoff. I'm not sure she's breathing, but I can see her plotting her escape plan.

She makes the first move.

Layla fakes right then goes left, trying to dart out by me but I'm too quick, catching her before she gets a chance to slip out the door.

"Damn it," She mutters quietly now that she's caught up in my arms and there's no way out. "Why can't you just do it now?"

I hate to be the barer of her bad news, but she's not seeing the bigger picture here. "Oh, so we can tell people that I did it while we were standing in the bathroom randomly. Where's the story in that?"

"Well, we can tell everyone you took me back to where we had our first date." Her eyes light up with ideas and she shakes her head, backtracking. "No, wait. This is better. We can say you took me on a mountain top hike at sunrise or a sunset walk on the beach—"

My point? Proven. "See? You want a story."

"No I don't," Layla says sheepishly and it's a big, fat lie. She knows it. I know it. "I'll be fine without a story."

"Well, I'm not." I say, kissing her pouty lips. "We need something to tell our grandkids someday."

I spend the next five minutes trying to convince Layla not the ruin it for herself. Since I already tell her everyday I'm going to marry her, the only really surprise I have left for her is the actual ring itself.

And what she's probably expecting, she's not getting. It's one million times better. Layla has told me many times that she didn't care what type of ring I picked out, that she would love it regardless because I chose it for her. And while her sentiment behind that is really sweet, I know there is nothing she wants more that her mother's ring. A ring Layla thinks she was buried with, but her mom left as a surprise for her. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I get to surprise her with that ring.

Not knowing this of course, Layla only looks half convinced. But still, I hold my pinky up and ask her to promise me she won't go looking for the ring.

"Okay," Layla sighs in defeat when she finally wraps her pinky around mine. "I promise."

She's absolutely lying through her teeth right now. I know for a fact the second I leave to run to the store she's going to tear the house apart looking for it. I know her too well which is exactly why the ring isn't even hidden in the house. I'm messing with her a little bit. Sue me. But it's going to be so funny watching her secretly search over the next week, get frustrated when she can't find it but try not to show it because she promised me she wouldn't look for it.

"That ring better be huge, Derek." Layla says with humour shining in her narrowed eyes. "I'm talking three years salary huge."

I snicker. "Your calculations are a little off. It's meant to be three months salary."

"Not my one," She tries to mask the humour in her tone with a seriousness in her eyes. "I want you to be able to see it from the other side of DC."

I'm not ruining the surprise by saying absolutely anything so I leave it at, "You're going to love it. I promise."

Confident that she's not going to go looking for the ring, at least not blatantly in front of me, I let Layla go and she heads back into our bedroom and slides into bed. The wrong side of the bed I might add.

I push my sweatpants down, kicking them off by my feet. "You're on my side."

Layla slides her knees to her chest, leaning back on her palms. She has that look in her eyes when they settle on mine. "Get on top of me then."

Her legs fall apart for me, allowing me to nestle myself between them. Our hands intertwine, resting on the pillow behind her head as I lower myself on top of her. "You flirting with me, Evan's?"

Layla smiles and lets out a small laugh, tipping her head up to kiss my lips. "Im trying to get myself a big ring, Morgan."

I prop myself up over her and my mouth slots with hers like a the final piece to a puzzle. We melt into each other, effortless and smooth while my hand moves to her hair, tugging at the root to angle her mouth to mine.

The thought of her wearing that ring, walking around with a visual representation of our love is enough to get me going alone. "I can't wait to give it to you."

Layla's laugh is soft. "The ring or your dick?"

"You're only getting one tonight," I say, letting my eyes drag down her body beneath me.
Her choice of pyjamas tonight is a little pair of panties and a tiny tank top. Enough said.

Layla's soft hand slips beneath the waistband of my boxers, wrapping around my rock hard cock. "This one?"

"Mhm," I moan as she pumps her hand in a perfect rhythm. "But do you know what else you're getting?" My hands slide up her sides, pushing her tank top up to expose her boobs. I palm them in my hands, watching as her soft tits spill around my large fingers. "My face between your thighs."

Her sigh is light hearted, morphing into a moan when I roll her nipples between my fingers. "Fine. I'll settle."

I push myself up onto my knees between her parted legs, gently peeling Layla's tank top off the rest of the way and throwing it on the floor.

I tap my two fingers to the side of her leg. "Lift your hips up for me, gorgeous."

Layla pushes herself up just enough to allow me to hook my thumbs into the sides of her underwear and they too join the pile of disregarded clothes on our floor.

I have to take a second because fuck me, my soon to be fiancée is something else.

My eyes lock onto her face. The cheeky grin on her kiss swollen lips, rosie red cheeks, hair splayed messily around her head like a halo, hazy with lust eyes watching me. Also the fact that she's naked, legs spread, showing me her perfect pussy and every inch of her smooth skin is begging to be kissed by my lips.

"You are a fucking masterpiece. Do I tell you that enough?"

"Yes." There's a new slight blush to her cheeks after I say that and the smile that touches her lips draws one from me too. Layla unintentionally pushes her pretty, perfect tits together when she reaches out for me. "Everyday."

Her hands link behind my neck when she pulls me closer and connects our lips in a kiss.

I couldn't tell you how long we kiss for because I get lost in it every time, but it's long enough to warrant what can only be described as a moan of complete impatience, frustration and pure and utter horniness from my beautiful girlfriend.

"Derek."

I prop myself up over her, brushing her hair back from her face. "Yes, my love?"

"What's taking so long?" When my lips find her neck, her legs spread wider. "Touch me already."

I arch an eyebrow when I hook her leg up around my waist. "You have somewhere you need to be?"

Her soft giggle is like music to my ears. "No, but it's been so long since you've touched me. I need it."

"Which is exactly why I'm taking my time." Her neck is one of her sweet spots so my lips trail a path down. I have memorised every little thing that turns her on and I know exactly what to do to get her there, push her over, and keep her right on the edge. I'm definitely going to use that to my advantage tonight. "I'm going to savour every second and every inch of you tonight."

Much to Layla's dismay, I do take my time as my lips trail down her body, dragging my mouth over her chest, making sure to give both sides equal attention before I settle my face between her legs. Nipping the skin on her hip bones, the apex of her thighs, the curve of her legs. I pepper little kisses on the most sensitive part of her inner thighs.

"Derek, please." Layla is squirming and breathless already. Sliding two fingers through her folds, I gather the wetness and slowly circle her clit, pressing just enough to make that sexy whimper echo around the room. "I can't take it anymore."

It's not long before I have her legs thrown over my shoulders, heels digging into my rippling back as I spend the next forty five minutes with my head buried in my own personal heaven, bringing her right to the edge so many times. Partially to tease her and draw out her orgasm, but mainly because I don't want to stop. I actually can't get enough.

Layla's soaked and dripping, on the verge of tears because I have her so wound up that she can't take it anymore. One more flick of my tongue and she would be gone. I don't give it to her.

"No, no, no!" Layla all but yells when I pull away, depriving her of her orgasm at the last second. She tries to lock her legs around my head but I'm quick enough to hold them apart. At this, Layla only grows more frustrated and I have to hold her hips down to stop her from grinding into my face. "I'm so close." A breathless small whimper passes her lips. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"You're going to come around my cock." I position myself on my knees between her legs. I watch as I glide my cock through her folds, coating it in her wetness. "Say you want it." Gripping it firmly at the base, I slap her sensitive clit with the head of my cock. "Tell me how much you need it, Layla."

"I need it so bad, Derek." Layla whimpers, aligning herself against me. "Please."

Just like every time, I try not to lose my head the second I push inside of her. Hands gripping tight onto her hips, the sound of our skin slapping together echoes through the air around us both. My mouth parts as another moan leaves my lips, but my mind is zeroed in on Layla. Her moans are like music to my ears, a collection of whines, whimpers and whispered pleads of my name. Hearing a moan of my name leave her lips is one of my favourite things in this world, but nothing compares to watching her face.

The way her jaw slacks and clenches, the scrunch of her nose and furrow of her brows, the way her dazed eyes roll back, how they close and flutter every time when I thrust at just the right angle.

"Come for me, pretty girl."

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A/N: Sorry to cut this scene short, but I realised halfway through writing that we're probably going to have another smut chapter reallyyyyy soon💍 I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!