Epilogue #2
She was awake. Playing the game perfectly, but aware the entire time. Feeling everything, experiencing every thrust and touch while maintaining the facade of sleep.
I lean close, press a kiss to her temple. "Perfect," I whisper.
The smile widens slightly before she settles back into mock sleep.
I return to my own seat, adjusting myself, heart still racing.
Six months ago, we started this game on a flight to Paris. Tonight, we perfected it.
And we have two weeks in the Maldives to explore everything else.
Morning light filters through the cabin windows as the plane begins its descent. I've been awake for an hour, watching Violet sleep—real sleep this time, not pretend.
She stirs, opens her eyes, sees me watching.
"Morning," she murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
"Morning."
She stretches, winces slightly. "I'm sore."
"Worth it?"
Her smile is wicked. "Completely."
We touch down in Malé, the capital of the Maldives. The heat hits us the moment we step off the plane—humid, tropical, perfect.
A private boat waits to take us to our resort. Violet watches the turquoise water, the scattered islands, wonder on her face.
"It's beautiful," she breathes.
"Wait until you see the villa."
The resort is exclusive, expensive, exactly what I wanted for this trip. Our overwater villa is at the end of a long pier, complete privacy, glass floor panels showing the ocean below.
Violet explores while the staff brings our luggage. She discovers the private deck, the infinity pool, the outdoor shower.
"Vincent, this is amazing!"
I watch her from the doorway, taking in her excitement. Then I make a decision.
I've been planning this for weeks. Had the ring custom designed, carried it through security in my carry-on. Now seems like the right moment.
I walk out onto the deck where Violet stands at the railing, looking at the endless ocean.
"Violet."
She turns, sees my expression, goes still.
I pull the small box from my pocket, drop to one knee.
Her hands fly to her mouth. "Oh my God."
"Violet Hayes," I begin, voice steady despite the emotion coursing through me. "Six months ago, I told you I wanted to marry you eventually. That I wanted you to be my wife."
Tears well in her eyes.
"I don't want to wait anymore," I continue. "I want the world to know you're mine. I want to give you my name, build a life together, make everything we've been to each other official."
I open the box. The ring catches the sunlight—platinum band, single perfect diamond, elegant and timeless.
"Will you marry me?"
Violet is crying now, nodding before she can speak. "Yes. Yes, of course yes!"
I stand, slide the ring onto her finger. Perfect fit, just like I knew it would be.
She launches herself at me. I catch her, hold her close, feeling her tears against my neck.
"I love you," she whispers. "So much."
"I love you too."
We stay like that for a long moment, holding each other on the deck of our villa, the ocean stretching endlessly around us.
Finally, Violet pulls back, wiping her eyes, laughing. "You just proposed to me right after fucking me on a plane to get here."
I grin. "Is that a problem?"
Her smile is radiant, mischievous. "Only you could pull that off."
"Only you would let me," I counter.
She looks at the ring on her finger, then back at me. "We're really doing this. Getting married."
"We are."
"People are going to lose their minds."
"Let them."
Violet laughs, shakes her head. "My mother is going to have a stroke."
"Your mother can deal with it. You're an adult, and this is our choice."
She kisses me. Deep, passionate, full of promise.
When we break apart, I say, "Besides, if that's your problem, I'll fuck you again right here and then propose again. Make sure you know exactly what you're getting into."
Violet's eyes darken with desire. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both."
She takes my hand, starts pulling me toward the villa entrance. "Then stop talking and take me inside."
I follow, already hard again, anticipation building.
The bedroom is spacious, the bed enormous, white curtains billowing in the ocean breeze. Violet turns to face me, starts unbuttoning my shirt.
"Two weeks," she says. "Just us."
"Just us," I confirm, pulling her sundress over her head.
She's not wearing a bra either. Completely bare under that dress all morning.
"You planned this," I accuse.
"Maybe."
I lift her, carry her to the bed. She wraps her legs around my waist, kissing me hard.
This trip is going to be incredible.
Two weeks of sun, ocean, privacy—and Violet, my fiancée, wearing my ring and nothing else.
I lay her on the bed, position myself between her thighs.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Always."
I push inside her, both of us groaning at the sensation. Her pussy is still sensitive from the plane, but she takes me eagerly, legs locking around my hips.
"Fuck," she gasps. "Yes?—"
I set a hard rhythm immediately. No teasing, no buildup. Just raw need and possession.
Violet arches beneath me, hands gripping my shoulders. "Vincent—harder?—"
I oblige, pounding into her, the sound of our bodies meeting loud in the quiet villa.
She comes fast, crying out, pussy clenching around my cock. I fuck her through it, chasing my own release.
When I come, I bury myself deep, filling her again. Marking her as mine.
We collapse together, breathing hard, tangled in the sheets.
Violet's hand finds mine, our fingers lacing together. The ring glints on her finger.
"Best graduation gift ever," she murmurs.
I laugh, pull her close. "We haven't even started yet."
Two weeks stretches ahead of us. Endless possibilities.
But right now, in this moment, holding my fiancée in paradise?
Everything is perfect.