EPILOGUE - THREE MONTHS LATER
TATUM
“Oh fuck, Bubbles. You’re not going to give me a chance to breathe, are you?” Lylah lies on the bed, legs spread wide while she runs one finger from her entrance over her clit, spreading her glistening arousal over the begging bundle of nerves. I close the door behind me with a slam, shielding my perfect, soon-to-be fiancée from any unwanted eyes.