With her mollified, I slip into the bathroom and slump against the door, pulling in a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm my racing heart. I tap the base of my palm to my head, trying to clear the haze that’s clouding my thoughts.

This sudden case of integrity I seem to have developed is extremely inconvenient.

My dick, for one, is not a fan.

I dabble with the idea of getting myself off. With the visual of Sammi coming apart on my tongue so fresh in my mind and her distinct flavor lingering on my taste buds—it wouldn’t take much. A few solid strokes.

But while that might make it easier for me not to lose control and take her in the heat of the moment, I can’t go out there with a limp dick, unable to perform. Sammi would see it as an insult. Who wouldn’t?

Despite how desperately I want her, my conscience keeps rearing its moral head. Reminding me that Sammi isn’t just some girl. She’s the one. A rare and precious jewel. She’s, my diamond. And diamonds are forever.

So, here I am, at an impasse…hiding from my bride in the fucking bathroom.

Get it together, man.

It’s just a freaking blowjob… I could still make the first time we go all the way extra special. Hell, anything would be more meaningful than me filling in for that douche she almost married. I can’t do it.

That’s fair. And a compromise I think I can live with.

I give myself a quick once-over in the mirror, running a hand through my hair just to have the strands land right back where they started.

Time to quit stalling.

Feeling a bit more confident after the internal pep talk, I crack the door and peer my head around to take stock of the situation.

The moon shines like a spotlight, blanketing my bride in an ethereal glow. She’s curled toward the windows in the fetal position.

With easy steps, I cross the room. It isn’t until I hear the soft purring coming from the lump beneath my sheets that I’m sure she’s fallen asleep. I’ve been granted a reprieve.

I could turn tail and haul it right back to that bathroom to deal with this persistent bulge—especially now that I know she’d be none the wiser. But it wouldn’t be worth missing another second spent beside her.

I lower my zipper, finally comfortable with losing the extra barrier. Though I usually prefer to sleep in the buff in the privacy of my home, I’m not that confident in my own restraint, so the boxer briefs stay.

Taking extra care not to wake her, I climb in from the foot of the bed and slip beneath the sheet, molding my chest to her back.