Epilogue #4
"Yeah, I'm exhausted." She sags against me slightly, hand rubbing her belly. "This baby's been kicking me all day."
"I know, Peaches." I press a kiss just below her ear, breathing her in. "We can take a shower and I'll wash your hair when we get home."
She groans, the sound going straight to my dick despite the very public setting. "Oh, I love when you wash my hair."
"I know." I smirk against her skin, hands settling on her hips. "Let's say our goodbyes."
"Okay."
It takes another twenty minutes of hugging and talking to people before we're finally heading out.
Her parents are coming for dinner tomorrow—Fallon's already planning what she wants to cook—and Grace is bringing our gifts to the house so we don't have to load them up tonight.
Thank fuck, because I've got other plans that require my hands free and Fallon naked.
When we get home, I do exactly what I promised. Undress her slow, hands learning every curve like I'm memorizing her body all over again. In the shower, I wash her carefully, soap sliding over skin I've marked with my mouth, my teeth, my need.
Then I press her against the tile wall and drop to my knees. I make her come on my face while hot water streams over us both. Her thighs shake against my shoulders, fingers twisted in my wet hair, and I drink down every drop of her like it's the only thing keeping me alive.
After, I dry her off with more gentleness than I knew I had in me. Walk her to bed and watch her crawl under the covers, eyes already heavy, body loose and satisfied.
I dry off quick, pull on sweatpants, then move to the dresser. The box has been hidden in the back of my top drawer for months—since the night I realized I couldn't fucking breathe without her.
My hands are steady when I pull it out. They shouldn't be. I've beaten men to death without my pulse spiking, but this makes my heart slam against my ribs.
I walk back to the bed and kneel beside it. Hold the box up where she can see it.
Fallon sits up fast, hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes go wide—shock and something else I can't name but need to see more of.
"Peaches." My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.
She stares at the box. At me. Her hand trembles against her lips.
I flip it open.
The ring isn't delicate. Isn't the kind of pretty shit he would've given her. It's a black band—titanium and obsidian—with a single diamond that catches the low light. Dark. Permanent. Unbreakable.
Like us.
"I killed for you." The words come easy because they're true. "Watched the light leave his eyes and felt nothing but satisfaction that he'd never touch you again. Never hurt you. Never make you afraid."
Her breath catches.
"I'd do it again, Fallon. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me. Anyone who makes you look the way you did when I found you." My jaw clenches, the memory of her bruises making my fists want to find a target that's already dead. "I'm not a good man. You know that. But I'm your man."
She's crying now—silent tears tracking down her face.
"I love seeing you pregnant with my kid." The confession rips out of me raw and honest. "I want to keep you that way—barefoot and full of me, safe in our home where no one can hurt you."
Her eyes widen but she doesn't pull away.
"I want to wake up every morning knowing you're carrying my baby.
Want to fuck you slow and careful while our kid grows inside you.
Want to watch you be a mother and know I'm the one who gave you that.
" I reach up, catch one of her tears with my thumb.
"I want to keep you pregnant as long as you'll let me.
Fill our house with kids who have your eyes and my temper. "
A sound escapes her throat—half sob, half laugh.
"I'm not asking you to forget what happened.
Not asking you to be okay overnight." I hold her gaze, let her see the truth in mine.
"I'm asking you to be mine. Legally. Permanently.
Let me put my ring on your finger and my babies in your belly and my last name on every fucking document that matters. "
The box sits open between us—dark promise, brutal honesty.
"Marry me, Peaches." My voice drops to something raw. "Let me protect you, provide for you, worship you the only way I know how. Let me keep you safe and satisfied and pregnant."
I pause, making sure she hears every word.
"Say yes, and I swear to God I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you. I'll burn down the world if that's what it takes to keep you safe. You'll never be afraid again because everyone will know—everyone—that you belong to Kade Stone, and touching you means death."
The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we've survived to get here.
"So what do you say, beautiful?" I pull the ring from the box, holding it up in the low light. "You gonna let me make you Mrs. Stone? Gonna let me keep you round and full and mine?"
"Yes." The word comes out barely a whisper.
Then she jumps up to kneeling on the bed despite her belly, grabbing my face between her hands. "Yes!" Stronger now, more certain. "Yes, yes, yes!" Over and over until the words blur together. "I love you so much."
I pull her into me, burying my face against her neck. "Thank fuck." The exhale shakes through my entire body—relief and possession and something so intense it makes my chest ache.
After a minute I pull back to slide the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly, the dark metal stark against her pale skin.
"It's so perfect." She's crying again, staring at her hand like she can't believe it's real.
"You're so perfect." I kiss her knuckles, the ring, her wrist. "And I can't wait for all the trying to get pregnant."
She laughs—half laugh, half cry—and pulls my shirt over her head in one fluid motion. "Can we practice now?"
"Fuck yes." I capture her mouth, swallowing her gasp as I push her back against the pillows and show her exactly how I plan to keep my future wife satisfied.
Thanks for reading Her Saint!