Epilogue
EPILOGUE
KANE
“Diane must be sick of seeing us,” Hannah says as we walk together down Main Street, each holding a cherry pie.
“Nah. She loves us really.”
It’s a warm afternoon in Cherry Hollow. People are milling around eating ice cream and enjoying the sunshine, and fliers for this year’s Cherry Festival are already starting to appear on streetlamps.
Nearly a year has passed since the day I met Hannah in the forest, and since then, things have only gotten better. Like all news stories, people stopped talking about what happened in Silvercrest a long time ago. Journalists like Andrea Ryan moved on to new victims, and now Hannah can walk around freely without fear of being harassed.
My girl was terrified of how people in Cherry Hollow would react, but when word leaked out about her real identity, nobody gave a damn. Everyone believed she wasn’t involved, and the town has welcomed her with open arms ever since. This place always gives second chances, and now that time has passed, most people don’t even remember that Hannah used to pretend she was from Winterdale and call herself Hannah Martin.
But these days she’s not Hannah Martin or Hannah O’Neill. I put a ring on her finger as soon as possible, and now she’s Hannah Donovan, my beautiful wife.
“Oh no, not again!” Diane exclaims as Hannah and I enter Buttercup Bakery.
Hannah laughs. “Sorry, but we need an impartial judge.”
We set our cherry pies on the counter and take a step back, letting Diane examine them both. I catch my wife’s eye and she grins at me.
“You’re going down,” she whispers.
“Sure am. Going down on you when we get home.”
“Shhh!”
Luckily, Diane is too busy staring at our pies to hear.
“Hannah, your presentation is better,” she says, grabbing a knife and cutting a slice of each pie.
“Hear that?” my wife says, smirking at me. “Better presentation.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ginger Snap. Taste is way more important than presentation.”
Diane tastes a forkful of each pie, looking thoughtful.
“Hannah, yours is delicious, but your filling is a little runny.”
My wife frowns up at me, keeping her voice low. “That’s because you started touching my ass when I was mixing in the cornstarch.”
“Doesn’t sound like me.”
“Kane,” Diane says, “yours is perfect. Just the right amount of nutmeg.” She points down at my pie. “This one wins.”
Hannah groans, and I smile smugly at her. “That’s my second win in a row.”
“It’s a fluke,” she says.
I squeeze her plump ass, making her gasp before I grab the cherry pies off the counter. “Thanks, Diane.”
“That’s the third time this week!” she says, laughing. “You kids and your cherry pies, honestly!”
We thank her again and say our goodbyes. There’s a spring in my step as we head back to my truck, and Hannah rolls her eyes as I start to hum jauntily.
“You sabotaged me with your ass-touching,” she says.
“That’s slander.”
She bites back a smile as I help her up into the passenger seat before we drive toward the forest. Diane might be our cherry pie judge, but she doesn’t know the details of our baking contests. It’s become a tradition for my wife and me—whoever loses the cherry pie contest has to spend the rest of the day naked. It’s the reason I take our competitions so seriously. I want an excuse to see my wife’s curvy body on display all day long.
“Tell you what,” I say as we reach our cabin. “Since you claim that I sabotaged you?—”
“Because you did!”
“—how about we say that we both lost this time?”
Hannah’s eyes light up. “You mean you have to get naked, too?”
“Yep. That fair?”
She nods eagerly. “Fair.”
I get out of the truck and pull Hannah into my arms, carrying her into our cozy home. It always smells delicious in here. My wife and I love to bake together—not just cherry pies, but all kinds of desserts: cookies, cakes, tarts, and muffins. Hannah has even started taking over some of the baking at work. Diane is planning to retire soon, and she’s going to leave Hannah in charge of Buttercup Bakery. I know she’ll do an awesome job, and I’m so damn proud of her.
And that’s not the only big change coming soon.
“You feeling okay, princess?” I ask as she moves unsteadily when I set her down in the living room.
“Just a little dizzy.” She eases back onto the couch. “The doctor said it’s normal in the early stages. Something to do with blood pressure.”
She smiles at me reassuringly and I sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. My heart still soars every time I think about the baby growing in my wife’s belly. She’s only a couple of months pregnant, and her bump isn’t showing yet, but the excitement is already palpable.
“You hungry?” I ask her. “Thirsty?”
“I’m good.”
“Cold? Hot? Want a blanket? A massage?”
Hannah giggles. “I promise I’m fine. My head already feels better.” She gives me an expectant look. “Now hurry up and take your clothes off.”
“Damn.” My cock twitches as I stand up, unbuttoning my shirt. “Some of my bossiness has definitely rubbed off on you, Ginger Snap.”
She grins at me, pushing herself off the couch and lifting her top until her bra is on display. Her plump breasts fill the cups, and I can see the hard buds of her nipples poking against the material, making my mouth water. I’ll never get over how fucking sexy my wife is. Just looking at her gets me rock hard, and I tug down my jeans and boxers, kicking them aside until I’m naked.
Hannah stares at my cock as she pulls down her skirt and panties. It’s swollen as hell and already aching for her as my gaze roams her curves. Her body is deliciously plump, from her thick thighs to her soft stomach, and I can’t keep my hands off her a second longer.
“Come here, princess,” I growl, pulling her toward me.
She wraps her arms around my neck as I bend down to kiss her soft, cherry-sweet lips. She whimpers against my mouth, and my cock throbs with need as I carry her toward the couch. I sit back and Hannah straddles my lap. Her core is warm and wet, and she grinds herself on my length, her folds rubbing against my shaft.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Sit on my cock, princess. Put it inside you.”
Her pretty green eyes are glazed with lust as she grabs my cock with one hand, holding my shoulder with the other for balance. She lets out a guttural moan as she sinks down onto my length, her tight pussy gripping me like a vise.
“Oh yes,” she gasps.
“Feel good?”
She nods, breathing hard. “So good.”
I kiss the soft skin of her neck, breathing in her sweet scent. “Ride me, baby. Make yourself come for me.”
She shivers, throwing her head back as she starts to bounce on my cock. Her honeyed core throbs around me, and I clench my jaw, watching in awe as my wife takes me deep inside her. She rides me like a wild thing, her plump tits bouncing, and I grab them hungrily. Her nipples are darker, her body changing with pregnancy, and it drives me crazy knowing I did that.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Hannah,” I growl. “So fucking perfect.”
She moans in response, moving faster, covering my length in her cream.
“I’m gonna come soon,” she whimpers, breathing hard, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Good girl. Look at me.”
She does as I ask, her eyes locking onto mine as she slaps down onto my cock, the room filled with the sounds of her wet pussy. A pretty pink blush spreads up my wife’s body, sweat beading on her forehead as her orgasm blooms. I grab her hips, helping her move, forcing her to take every inch of my cock.
“YES!” she sobs. “KANE!”
Her body trembles, walls clamping tight as she comes for me.
“I love you, princess.” My hips buck, fucking her deeper as my orgasm builds. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she gasps, eyes rolling back as she rides out her orgasm.
Holding her tight, I bury my face against her neck as my cock explodes, pleasure flooding my body in waves. A hoarse groan escapes my lips, and I fill my wife with warm cum, smothering her with kisses as I empty myself inside her.
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” I tell her once we catch our breath, my heart squeezing with love for my beautiful wife.
She grins at me. “Well, you better start believing it. I’m wearing your ring and carrying your baby.”
“Fuck, I must be the luckiest man in the world.”
Hannah shrugs, smiling coyly. “Well, I’m lucky too. My husband’s pretty great.”
I chuckle, running a hand through her glossy red hair as I say, “He loves you more than anything, Ginger Snap.”
Her eyes shine. “I love him too. So much.”