I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring box. Her eyes round.
“Jasmine Haywood.” I open the box, revealing the ring. “You’ve given me everything I didn’t know I needed. A reason to be a better man. A daughter. A home. Will you give me one more thing?”
The pale light catches the curve of her cheek, the shine of unshed tears in her eyes, and she’s fucking beautiful.
“Will you marry me? Not because of our daughter, though I’m grateful every day that she exists. Not because my mother thinks we should, though she’s not wrong.” I hold her gaze. “Marry me because I love you. Because I can’t imagine a single day of my life without you in it. Because you’re my home, querida, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I know it.”
My voice breaks on the last word.
“Marry me and let me spend forever showing you that you were right to trust me. That your faith in me wasn’t misplaced. That I’m not going anywhere ever.”
She’s nodding, laughing, and crying at the same time. “Yes. Yes, of course, yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. I knew it would. I’d been measuring her ring finger whenever she was asleep.
Then I’m on my feet again, kissing her cheeks, eyelids and the corner of her mouth. When I finally claim her sweet mouth, her body sways closer.
We walk back to the villa slowly, fingers laced together. The ring catches the moonlight with every step.
“I’m sorry I pulled away.” She leans into my side, her head resting against my biceps. “I was so scared...”
“You don’t have to apologize for protecting yourself,” I say. “But you never have to protect yourself from me.”
The ocean whispers against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, music plays. But here, in the space between the proposal and whatever comes next, there is only us.
Inside, the bed is turned down and the lights are low. The ocean is dark and endless through the glass floor.
“Come here,” I say.
She comes. I undress her, peeling away each layer until she stands bare before me. I trace every new curve of her body with my hands, then my mouth.
Her breasts are fuller now, heavy and sensitive under my palms. I cup them, brushing my thumbs across her nipples and watching them stiffen.
I lower my mouth to one, sucking softly, and she gasps.
I kiss my way down to her stomach, feeling our daughter shift beneath my lips.
“I love you,” I tell her belly. “Both of you. Everything about you.”
“Eu te amo,” she says while her fingers thread through my hair. “Eu te amo, Antonio.”
The words in my language, in her voice, send heat straight to my cock.
I lay her back on the bed, sliding pillows beneath her hips. We’ve learned how to navigate her belly, which angles let me sink deep, which positions make her moan loudest.
I kneel between her thighs, and she wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer.
I run my fingers through her slick folds, finding her swollen and wet. She whimpers when I circle her clit, jerking her hips against my hand.
“Antonio, please...”
“Look at me,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine. Dark and wanting and full of love.
I notch myself at her entrance and push in slowly, feeling her stretch around me, hot and tight and perfect.
Her lips part with a soft moan as I fill her. She tilts her hips, drawing me even deeper, and I have to pause to keep from losing myself too soon.
