Epilogue
JADE
The cotton sheet rustles under my legs as I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. Ten months have passed since the explosion around Elias Hayes. But that’s not why I have butterflies today.
Today is our wedding day. A small army of makeup artists will storm this house in exactly an hour, caterers will set up the tent in the garden, and Hailey will pull a sinful wedding dress over my head.
The nerves pulse in my veins. I’m marrying Cayden Miller.
The man I ran away from for over a decade.
The mattress dips, and Cayden slides to my side. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to his chest. His skin radiates a cozy warmth.
“Your heart is pounding,” he murmurs against my neck. His voice is thick with sleep.
“I’m going over the seating chart in my head,” I lie, closing my eyes.
He rolls me onto my side. His gaze locks onto mine.
“I’m nervous,” I confess in a whisper.
“I’ll distract you,” he promises.
His mouth finds mine, and I bury my fingers in his hair as he moves over me. I can feel how hard he is.
Cayden reaches for the hem of my sleep shirt, and it ends up somewhere on the floor.
His lips travel down my neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below my ear until I feel my pulse thumping wildly there.
He leaves a wet trail on my collarbone, tracing a glowing line further down until his tongue circles the curve of my breast. My nipples harden before he takes one into his hot mouth, nibbling, lashing it with his tongue until I twitch beneath him like a bowstring.
His hands brush over my hips, sliding lower, spreading my thighs with a possessive calm.
The touch sends an electric jolt through my spine.
I grab his shoulders. The muscles tense under my palms. He strips away my underwear, and his fingers dive between my folds immediately, parting the slick flesh, circling my swollen clitoris until I arch toward him and a choked whimper breaks from my throat.
Two fingers enter me, curving, rubbing exactly where I’m most sensitive, while his thumb continues to massage my pearl.
The cool morning air brushes my skin, but the heat between us burns away every concern.
I spread my legs wider, offering myself completely. He pulls off his shirt and boxers, positioning himself between my thighs.
His thick cock presses against my entrance, parting my wet folds, gliding slowly—agonizingly slowly—into me.
Inch by inch, he stretches me, filling me so completely I feel like he’s touching my soul.
The tightness takes my breath away. A guttural groan leaves his mouth.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck, biting gently, as he pushes in all the way, his weight heavy against me.
He starts to move. The rhythm is steady.
Every deep, circling thrust makes his shaft rub against my inner walls, hitting that one spot that makes sparks dance in my vision.
The friction creates an inferno in my belly, as if liquid fire is flowing through my veins.
I wrap my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles behind his back, pulling him even deeper.
My nails dig into his back, leaving red tracks as I cling to him.
The headboard creaks softly. The sound mixes with our synchronized breathing, the wet slap of skin on skin, the slick sound of him pulling out nearly all the way and then ramming back into me.
Cayden picks up the pace. The initial gentleness gives way to a hungry urgency.
He props himself on his forearms and looks me directly in the eyes.
This raw openness drives my pulse crazy.
There are no lies left. No distance. He belongs to me. I belong to him.
He reaches between us, his fingers finding my clitoris again, rubbing in fast, firm circles while his cock plows through me in a merciless tempo.
My inner muscles clinch, milking him greedily.
The familiar tingling spreads through my veins, becoming a roaring storm.
I heave upward. I throw my head back into the pillows.
“Cayden,” I gasp.
“Let go,” he commands in a whisper. He grabs my hips. He holds me pinned against him. He drives me over the edge with hard, deep thrusts, his shaft swelling even further, throbbing inside me.
The wave crashes over me. A bright flash streaks through my mind. My body clamps in a massive release, my heat tightening rhythmically around him, milking every drop. I scream his name. The sound is lost in the pillow.
Seconds later, I feel his own shudder. He tenses massively, then releases deep inside me, hot pulses filling me as he continues to thrust, as if to pump every last bit into me. He lets his weight sink onto me. His sweaty chest presses against mine.
Cayden lifts his head. He presses a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “Still nervous?” he asks quietly. An amused grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I don't give a damn about the seating chart right now,” I answer truthfully. I stroke his cheek.
Downstairs, a door slams. Parker’s voice echoes through the stairwell. He’s calling for his new dress shoes. Helena answers him from the kitchen. Life in this villa is waking up. The day begins.
Parker guarded our wedding rings last night. He placed the box on his nightstand with extreme pride. We’ve functioned as a family long before we sign this document today.
In a few hours, I will take his last name. I will walk to the altar and marry the man who first turned my life into a debris field and then built a castle on top of it.
I close my eyes and smile into the morning silence. I’m ready.
CAYDEN
The sun beats down on my property, where three hundred guests are crowding the lawn. Huge pagoda tents provide shade, while waiters balance champagne glasses through the crowd. The chatter almost drowns out the bass from the live band. The wedding grounds feel more like a festival.
I’m leaning against the wooden bar at the edge of the dance floor. A cool glass is in my hand. Griffin clinks his tumbler against mine.
“To the groom,” he yells over the music. He loosens his tie. “You actually let them put the shackles on you, Miller.”
“I wear them with pride,” I answer and swallow the whiskey.
Marcel laughs. He claps me on the shoulder. “We were taking bets. Beckett put money on you backing out at the altar.”
Beckett raises his hands defensively. He grins. “After I met Jade, I pulled my bet immediately. The woman has a grip on you.”
We laugh. The familiarity fills the space between us. We drank together in college. We weathered crises. Today, they stand here as my best men.
I watch Jade as she dances with Parker on the wooden stage. Her wedding dress swirls around her legs, and I feel like the luckiest man alive.
A movement at the tent exit catches my eye.
A man in a tailored suit steps out of the crowd. Black hair falls over his forehead. Two bridesmaids turn around instantly, whispering behind their hands. He ignores the looks completely. His steps are springy as he heads straight for our group.
He stops in front of us and raises his glass toward me. A slight smile appears on his face.
“Congratulations, Cayden.” His voice is calm.
I nod and raise my own glass.
“Thanks, Vaughn,” I say. “For everything.”
He nods barely perceptibly and leans against the wooden edge of the bar.
I study him. He appears. He vanishes. He solves the most massive problems from the background. None of us really know what his everyday life looks like.
“So, how’s your love life?” I ask.
Vaughn takes a sip from his glass.
“A gentleman stays silent and enjoys,” he answers.
Marcel snorts. He props his elbow on the counter. “If there’s anything to enjoy.”
Vaughn turns his head. He looks at Marcel. A spark flickers in his eyes. The smirk on his lips deepens into a grin.
“If you only knew.”
The End