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When she asked him to walk her down the aisle, dad’s eyes watered so much he ducked his head to try and hide how honored he was by her request.
Now I’m feeling the same because this woman agreed to marry me.
Again.
Willingly this time.
All because she loves me.
With her first step toward me and the start of our lives together, I let the tears slide down my cheeks, uncaring of who sees how much Madelyn means to me. It’s not like they don’t all know anyway since I’m not shy about it.
The pastor begins the ceremony, and soon, we’re saying our vows and exchanging rings. I don’t wait for him to tell me I can kiss my bride, instead pulling her toward me and pressing her lips to mine.
“Okay then,” the officiant says with a chuckle. “We’ll just give them a moment to uh, congratulate each other.” This amuses everyone watching us, but I tune out their laughter, too focused on the woman in my arms. As the need for oxygen becomes too difficult to ignore, I take one last taste of her before breaking contact. Though I keep her at my side. “I know pronounce you husband wife.”
**Madelyn**
“Right there,” I barely refrain from screaming as Cain’s tongue slips inside me, unerringly seeking out the spot that has my legs shaking with pleasure. Of course, his ability to hear me my might be hindered as my thighs are currently covering his ears.
But he stills knows what I need. He always does.
His onslaught continues until I forget my name, but I know this is only the beginning, just as our wedding was this morning.
“Are you ready for me?” He asks as he notches the head of his thick cock at my center.
“You tell me,” I tempt him as I push down, ensuring he enters me, earning a slap to my ass which sends him even deeper. Yay me.
“Naughty girl,” he scolds me, giving my other cheek a smack. I think the fact I like it as much as I do surprises us equally.
When he pushes fully inside me, his eyes close as head tilts back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as if it’s almost too much for him to handle. “Cain,” I whimper, my voice choking with emotion.
“Madelyn,” he whispers, clearly feeling it as much as I am. As he pushes forward, officially uniting us in body as our hearts and souls were earlier, I get swept up in passion. His pace increases, unable to restrain himself, and I hang on. My fingers grip his arms, his hiss at the bite of my nails in his skin spurring him to move even faster. I tilt my hips, needing him to take me over before I pass out from the pleasure. “Can’t.” Inhale. “Hold.” Exhale. “Back,” he finishes through gritted teeth.
“Don’t,” I respond, wanting all of him. Cain’s hands squeeze my ass, having never left it, and he holds me still as he pounds into me. “I love you!” I shout as my orgasm nears.
“I love you, too!” He hollers as he fills me, ordering me to take every drop he gives me. So I do, over and over throughout the night.
And for the rest of our lives.
Epilogue Two
Cain
Ten years after meeting…
“Yes,” I say with a long-suffering sigh. “You were right, okay?” It’s been a decade, yet I still hate admitting it.
“That never gets old,” my mom states as she pops her collar, no matter how many times I’ve begged her not to do that.
“Not for you,” I mutter.
“Mom,” Madelyn scolds as she joins us on the deck, carrying a tray of iced tea, which mom and I both side-eye until we get the confirmation that has us eagerly reaching for it. “It’s sweetened,” Madelyn assures us. The first time she’d made the beverage for me, it had not gone down smoothly, a fact I’d tried to hide from her. But my wife knows me as well as I do her and knew it wasn’t exactly to my taste – nor should it be to anybody’s. Which is why she smacks my arm as I hesitantly raise the glass to my lips, my gaze locked on my mom as if almost daring her to go first. She, of course, is doing the same, causing us to have a staring contest. “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Madelyn snaps. “I know how to make it correctly now.”
“I’ll drink it, mommy,” our eight-year-old son, Malcolm – named after my dad – offers. We’d decided to wait a few years before starting our family, wanting that extra time together first.
“Mama’s boy,” I tease, earning a glare from my wife and mom, as well as my son sticking his tongue out at me.
“You’re just jealous because mama loves me more,” he immediately fires back. The kid is quick, his intelligence evident from an early age, keeping his mom and I on our toes. Penelope, our daughter in honor of Madelyn’s mom, is four and already showing an affinity for animals.
