It’s been eight weeks since Cane and I got back from Belize.
Eight weeks since I screamed the word “Yes!” while Cane was perched on one knee in front of me.
As a little girl, I used to dream about how he would ask me. Of course, back then I was delusional, and he had no idea that I loved him so deeply, but still—I always wondered how the Quinton Cane would ask a woman to marry him.
Would he make himself vulnerable by dropping to one knee? Would he look her in the eyes? Would he say something deep and sweet, or quick and simple?
I got the answers to all of those questions that night in Belize, and it was one of the best moments we’ve ever shared.
Marriage was a big step, one I hadn’t mentally prepared for after everything we’d been through. To be honest, I was perfectly content with where we were before he asked for my hand in marriage. We were happy, living our lives, and enjoying one another’s company, and that was all I’d ever wanted.
Take this very morning, for example. I was happy. Cane and I were in the bed, and I’d just begun to stir as the sun spilled over the horizon. He was sleeping, but when I ran a hand over his bare chest he groaned, and his eyes slowly peeled open.
“Mmm,” he murmured. “Morning, little one.”
There was always something about his voice in the morning. The extra bass to it—a gravelly-ness that made me clench. Yes, clench.
“You leave tonight,” I said with a sigh. I wasn’t too pleased about it. Then again, I never was. Every time he had to travel for work, I missed the hell out of him. He always extended the offer of joining him, but I didn’t want to distract him. I knew work was work, and he needed to concentrate and be present for the majority of it.
“I’ll be back soon,” he rumbled. I climbed on top of him, swinging my hair to one side.
“You’ll miss me?”
“Every second,” he said, smiling as he clutched my hips. “I’ll be thinking about you every day that I’m away. Thinking of all the things I can do to you.”
“Oh yeah? Things like what?” I asked, biting back a grin. “Show me.”
He didn’t hesitate. He flipped me onto my back, and I let out a shrill yelp as he pushed up on one elbow, his face hovering over mine. His hand slid over my belly, moving down to my pelvis. He pushed his hand between my legs, and when I was exposed, one of his fingers skimmed over my bare pussy.
“Things like touching you here,” he said, his lips above mine.
He adjusted his body higher, sliding two fingers inside me. “Fucking you with my fingers,” he rasped on my lips. “Feeling your wet pussy come all over them.”
I moaned, and clenched again.
“What...else?” My voice was breathy—erratic—as he massaged my clit with the bottom of his palm, his fingers still penetrating deep. He continued the massaging a few seconds longer but then came to a rapid stop. “No,” I whined. “Why did you stop?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved down between my thighs. “Would you rather have my fingers,” he crooned, the head of his cock pushing into my pussy, “or my dick inside you?”
“Your dick,” I panted as he stalled. I writhed a bit, aching for the rest of him, but he didn’t budge, only chuckled.
“So impatient, little one.”
“You know I am. Now stop teasing.”
His eyes skimmed over me. “How do you want it?”
“Hard,” I said, bringing my mouth up to his. “Fast,” I added. “And deep.” When that last word left my lips, I clutched his hips and forced them forward.
His cock thrust into me with ease, and a primal growl started deep in his chest, falling through his lips.
He dropped his head, crushing my mouth with his as I held on tighter. Rocking his hips back and forth, he gave it to me just how I wanted it.
He sucked on my bottom lip while I panted and moaned beneath him. My fingernails dug into the skin of his hips, and he released my lip with a hiss. His eyes latched on mine, and he brought a hand up, tangling his fingers in my hair. He grabbed a handful of it and yanked back just enough so my neck craned, and then sucked on the bend of it.
“Fucking mine,” he growled on my mouth. “All of you belongs to me. Right, baby?”
“Yes. I’m all yours.”
“My fiancée,” he groaned, and his body tensed, muscles locking.
“Yours,” I breathed erratically, and he grunted almost instantly. His cock pulsed inside me as he came, his eyelids sealing as one of his hands locked on my hips.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, pulsing, twitching. “I’ll never get tired of this pussy.”
When his body relaxed, he pulled out and then looked down at me, dropping a damp kiss on my lips. He gave me another, and I let out a whimper.
He dropped his hand and used the tips of his fingers to rub circles on my clit. My body bucked in response, and he swallowed my moans, still kissing me. Owning me.
His soft cock was now on my thigh, rubbing against me. I felt him spasm as he massaged me faster, building me up more and more.
“Oh, God! Cane!” I cried out. His hand felt so damn good, and my body had been worked up since the moment he’d thrust inside me. I clutched the sheets with one hand while my other ran through the hair on the back of his head, and then I came all over his fingers, just as he’d been anticipating, and he hummed in response.
“I’ll never get tired of that either,” he mumbled on my mouth, and I could tell he was smiling. “Watching you come for me.”
I smiled up at him, and after we’d cleaned up what we could, we jumped in the shower together, this time making love. We always made love before he left town.
For some, marriage means harmony, but for Cane and I…well, I had no idea what it meant for us. To be honest, a part of me was afraid that one day he would want a family, and I wouldn’t be able to deliver that.
Even so, not much had changed since we’d gotten engaged. We were still the same couple who loved too hard, and fucked even harder, even after getting back from our trip. I will say that my love for him was monumental—like somehow being engaged to him was deeper than just him asking me a question. It was as if we were connected by an invisible but unbreakable chain.
Once Lora found out, she asked if she could help plan our wedding, and when Cane and I agreed she could, she immediately started investigating options. She assured me the wedding wouldn’t happen until after I graduated, and promised that the process would be as stress-free as possible, just so long as Cane didn’t try and set a low budget for it.
Later that night, I watched Cane walk out the door to get to the black car that was waiting for him. Neo, his driver, stood patiently by the trunk with his hands clasped in front of him. Cane had given Neo his suitcase, but before he got into the backseat, Cane came back toward the porch, jogged up the steps, and reeled me in by the waist, giving me a passionate, sensual kiss. I giggled behind it at first, and then kissed him just as deeply, curling my fingers into his shirt.
“I love you, girl,” he said, pulling away, walking backward before reaching the steps.
“And I love you, man. Safe travels.” I blew him a kiss as he climbed into the car. Neo shut the door behind him, and before I knew it, the car was rolling away.
Sighing, I went back into the house and upstairs, where I spotted Lora coming out of her room.
“Hey munchkin!” she sang.
I laughed. “Hey. You wanna watch a movie tonight?”
“Kandy Jennings!” she gasped. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I broke out in a laugh, walking into my and Cane’s bedroom. Lora followed after me as I walked to the closet and pulled out a blanket and my favorite pair of fuzzy socks.
“Just a movie, no play.” I winked back at her.
“Sure, I don’t see why not. Oh—I didn’t even tell you about this bridal boutique I found. It’s in Charlotte. I went to check it out, and the dresses are fucking stunning, Kandy. You’d love them.”
“But are they super expensive?” I asked, pressing my lips and closing the closet door.
She scoffed. “Um, duh! I’m not letting you walk around in some two-dollar shit, okay? Only the best for you. Got it?”
“Now Cane…he’s going to be a little harder to get in order. He’d settle for a basic-as-hell tux.” Her head shook. “Not letting that happen. I mean, he’s got all that money and is so cheap with it.” She rolled her eyes as she fluffed her hair in front of our floor-to-ceiling mirror.
“You know we don’t need a great, big wedding, Lora,” I laughed. “I don’t even know that many people—not any that are close enough for me to invite, anyway.”
“Yeah, but Cane does, and once word gets out about him getting married, the people who work for him are going to be fighting to get an invitation. Did you see that Tempt has announced on their website and blog that he proposed to “a special lady” in Belize? I’m not sure how the word got out, but I’m sure his emails and calls are blowing up right about it now.”
“Yeah, but just because he works with them doesn’t mean he has to invite all of them.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that this wedding has to be fucking perfect, okay? I’m the kind of girl who won’t have a big wedding because I truly don’t give a fuck about most people, or about pleasing them, for that matter, but for other people, I love doing shit like this. Besides, you don’t need the stress of it on top of college work.” I smiled as she walked across my bedroom and capped my shoulders. “It won’t be too big. It’ll be chill and a night to remember. I promise, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Fine,” I laughed. ”But no crazy stuff, like flame throwers and animals and performers. Simplicity is best.”
“Deal!” She snatched me toward her, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m telling you. You won’t regret it. I’ll make it the best day ever!”
I was sure she would. We went downstairs to the den, where the sixty-inch TV was already primed for Netflix. Lora picked a movie that had Noah Centenio, her latest boy-crush, and then she pulled her phone out, going straight to Pinterest to show me some ideas she’d saved for us to discuss.
I never took Lora for the type to get excited about a wedding, but she was. She showed me dresses that she thought would look good on my frame and even color schemes and backdrops she assumed I would like. With everything I’d been shown, I had no doubt Lora was going to make this wedding epic. She was persistent and had very good fashion sense, but I didn’t know how Cane would feel about her taking over every detail.
He’d told me he wasn’t interested in a big wedding either. He wanted it to be quiet and private, with only people he really cared about there. Everyone he cared about was either under his roof or back in Georgia, but even I knew he was going to have to invite some of the people from work to his wedding, just to keep up appearances.
Still, the fact that we were getting married topped all of those worries. I was going to be a wife—and not just any wife. His wife.