Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I’m in a white midi maternity dress, and Kane is wearing a pair of khaki dress shorts with a button-down white linen shirt. His hair is messy from the ocean breeze, and his face is scruffy since I told him I loved his facial hair. While I’m wearing a cute pair of Valentino sandals, he’s sporting Christian Louboutin leather boat shoes.
It’s nothing like our first wedding and everything like what I dreamed of when I was a little girl.
The officiant says a few words and then turns it over to us.
Like last time, Kane goes first.
“I never thought I’d be married,” he says. “My only goal was to be successful, and I measured that success with dollar signs. But what I didn’t understand at the time was that there’s a different type of success, one that can’t be measured with money …”
“It’s in the way you smile at me when I do something that makes you happy. The way your body calms at my touch. When you’re having a bad day and I pull you into my arms and you tell me that I made it better. Success is when you and Molly snuggle against my side while we watch our shows. Or when you light up because I remembered your favorite coffee or muffin.”
I choke out a sob, and Kane palms the side of my face.
“I thought I had found success until I met you. But now, with you by my side, every time you look at me with happiness and love in your eyes, I feel like the most successful man in the world. And I vow to spend every day of the rest of our lives working to ensure that you look at me like I’m all you need in life, even though we both know you don’t need anyone.”
“Kane”—I sniffle back a sob—“it’s not me that makes you successful. It’s us.” I reach up and cup the sides of his face. “It’s having each other’s back, no matter what. Sharing our goals and hopes and dreams and supporting each other through them.
“And I vow to spend every day of the rest of our lives sharing my hopes and dreams with you. And when things get hard, I’ll be here because this life we’re creating is beautiful, and all I want is to spend it with you.”
I glance at Matteo, who stands and brings me over the box I asked him to hold.
“Thank you,” I tell him, plucking the ring out of the box and handing it back to him.
“You remembered,” Kane rasps.
“Not only did I remember, but I had it engraved—I give myself to you.”
I look into Kane’s eyes, and he swallows thickly, understanding what I’m saying.
I’ve always craved control. But with Kane, I no longer need it because I trust him with every part of me.
I take his fourth finger and slide the ring onto it. “I, Brielle Antonova-Morgan, give myself to you in every way, till death do us part.”
Kane nods, his eyes teary. “Thank you, Princess,” he chokes out, taking my hand in his. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a new wedding ring that matches the engagement ring he bought me.
“I, Kane Morgan, give myself to you in every way, till death do us part.”
Kane
Waking up next to my pregnant wife is something I could do every day for the rest of my life. Given, she wouldn’t be thrilled if I kept her knocked up, but thankfully, she wants a few babies, which means in a couple of months, when she gives birth, it won’t be the end of getting to see her pregnant.
“What are you thinking about?” Bri croaks out, rolling over so her bump is pressed against my torso.
“How long I have to wait to get you pregnant again.”
Brielle laughs. “Let’s have this one first, and then we can discuss it.” She glides her creamy thigh between my legs and presses her lips to mine. “But we can definitely have fun practicing.”
I reach between us and find her clit. But with her belly, it’s hard to do what I want. So, I gently roll her over and then proceed to remove her underwear so I can make her come.
It only takes a few strokes to her needy clit before she’s screaming my name, and then I’m pushing my boxers down and guiding myself into her.
“I love this,” I murmur, my hand going to her belly. “I love you.”
Her face splits into a beautiful smile, and I vow to make sure she smiles as much as possible.
“I love you,” she says, pulling my face down to hers for a kiss.
Careful not to put pressure on her stomach, I make love to my wife, thanking whatever god there is for bringing her into my life.
When we both find our release, I drop onto the bed and pull her into my arms, not ready to let her go yet. My hand goes to her belly, and when the baby kicks, I hold her even tighter.