He grips my sides as he rams relentlessly into me. I lift my hips—encouraging him for more. I have many reasons why I would never tire of making things work between us. It is because we are compatible like this—as if he knows me deep within my roots… my bones… my soul.
I shut my eyes as he buries his head on my neck and whispers how fucking good he feels. Small tremors begin to build inside me, and as much as I want this to last a little longer, my legs are giving out. The pleasure is too intense. I don’t think I can hold it in anymore.
“Brandonnn…” I whisper his name as my hips shake and orgasm takes over me, then .
Brandon’s thrust quickens as he reaches for his. Seconds later, he pulls out of me, and I collapse on the couch.
Brandon kisses my forehead, then lies beside me. He pulls me against him, and we stay like that for a long time without saying a word. When I finally find the strength to talk, I whisper to him.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.” He kisses my head again and looks into my eyes.
“I have to confess something,” I say.
“What is it?” he murmurs.
“I thought you should know.”
He frowns. “Is this serious?”
“Not for me, no.”
“Tell me, darling.”
“I’m not on birth control. This vacation isn’t planned, at least on my part. We have not used protection ever since we came here, so an unexpected pregnancy might happen. I thought I should tell you because you might not be ready.”
Laughing softly, he leans his head on the backrest. “Oh, Alayna.”
“What?” I’m not sure if he’s amused or his laugh is sarcastic.
“I thought you were about to say something else serious. You scared me.”
I push myself up. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, just something else you’re good at.” He stares at me. “Surprising me.”
“So it’s not a problem?”
He shakes his head. “If I get you pregnant, then that gives me more reason to marry you.” He pinches my chin. “Being ready is not the problem either, because I’m always ready. Didn’t you think I considered that?” He grins impishly.
I gape at him. “Are you saying you deliberately didn’t use protection?”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything. My only intention is to fuck you.” He bruises my mouth with his, then he stands up. He picks up my clothes from the floor, gets on his knee, and starts dressing me. “But if I get you pregnant—” he first slides my panties on my legs“—I am naming her after Elga.”
I grin back. “You are naming everything after your mom and sister, so that isn’t a surprise. But if you get me pregnant and it’s a boy?” I sit up to put my bra on.
His eyes sparkle, smiling. “Then it’s up to you.”
“You are unfair. Do you know that? I always like the name Evangeline. Can only be used for a girl though, can’t be used for both genders.”
“Then we can give them two names each.”
“Them“Four? Five? A twelve doesn’t sound so terrible,” he teases. “Like your siblings.”
“Hey!” I pat his arm, then giggle. “I’m not some baby machine! A maximum of five is fine. Don’t you know how hard it is for a woman to bear and give birth to a child? At least from what I’ve heard.”
He laughs pleasantly with me. “The more, the merrier, right?”
My eyes widens. “You’re not serious.”
“Now, why am I suddenly liking this idea of an unexpected pregnancy to happen?” He crosses his arms, and his eyes narrow. “I would be the happiest man if you do get pregnant.”
“Ugh.” I shake my head. “But what if I don’t?”
“Then we can try again,” he suggests, grinning.
I burst out in laughter. “Shut up.” I get up from the couch after putting on my shirt. “So, what are your plans tonight? Don’t you think we need to get ready?” I inquire, referring to our special dinner later. “Do I need to dress up?”
“Ah, about that. My staff has already arranged everything.” He reaches for my waist and yanks me against his luscious body. I trace my fingers along the lines of his six-pack.
I lick my lips. “Mm. I’m sure it’s romantic.”
His expression melts my heart. He certainly looks younger than he already is when he’s happy. “We’re talking about the engagement tonight, and maybe the wedding too.”
“Yeah… sounds romantic already.”
He closes his eyes and kisses my lips softly. “I love you, and I already can’t wait for it,” he whispers between our lips.
I cup his face, smiling. “I’m getting ready, so you call Lydia to come back already.”
“I already have.”
I’ve felt this before. I know because this isn’t my first time being in a relationship. I was naïve to assume that my tormentor felt the same. I thought our love was real, but the more I think about it now, the more I understand I was stupid to believe that it was.
My first relationship was based on self-abuse and masochism that I should have loved myself first. It was pure foolishness. The devil didn’t love me for who I was. He thought he loved me, but for the person who I was not.
But not this time. This is me. The real me.
For a long time, I’ve tried to hide what I’ve been through from the people I loved. I buried it deep within my soul as though all of that didn’t happen. But I was only fooling myself. I thought it was my escape route until I met Brandon.
I was stubborn enough not to admit that I saw myself in him—as though looking at my own reflection in front of a mirror.
We didn’t go through the same misery, but I’ve also imprisoned myself in a cage I created—just like when he locked himself in his room for ten years. He was just as broken as I was and just as disturbed.
Trying to forget my past wasn’t the real escape.
It was acceptance.
I’ve learned that recognizing the problem doesn’t make me weak. It actually made me strong, and that it doesn’t define me as a person. Brandon showed me that, and continued to do so when he began to face it head-on and thrived. And now he is leading me to do the same, but with him on my side.
I finally know what my redemption is. It’s my love for Brandon.
***The clear sky stretches out thousands of shimmering stars tonight. The air’s humidity is just right for the ambiance, making the surroundings tranquil. A piece of beautiful instrumental music is being played by a quartet instrumentalist when I step into the garden house.
What astonishes me the most is when I see Brandon in an immaculate tuxedo, standing by a stunning candlelight table surrounded by fairy lights and with a red carpet beneath my feet. Lydia and her assistants are standing at a distance. I notice the excitement in her eyes, too. I clasp my mouth as my chest explodes in bliss, and butterflies flutter in my stomach, making my eyes water.
Brandon reaches out his palm to me, inviting me to come to him, but I make no attempt to move. I am too dazed to move my feet, and my knees suddenly feel frail.
He chuckles and walks toward me instead. He cocks his head as he looks at my face, then takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Don’t hide your face from me,” he whispers.
“All this…” I look around. “Is this part of your plan? We’re leaving tomorrow, but you still have a lot in your hands.”
“Mm.” He sniffs on my hair. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
I chose a crimson red dress tonight. It’s simple but fancy enough to match the night’s theme, but I should’ve chosen something more formal.
He brushes the tears from my cheek. “Why are you crying? Don’t you like these?” he teases, smiling.
I laugh between my tears. “I love it. No one has ever done this for me before.”
“Then I’m glad to be the first.” His forehead furrows. “And your last, for that matter. I mean, this can’t be the last time I’m doing this. I’m just saying—”
I chortle. “I know what you mean.” I glide my hands on his chest, then wrap them around his neck.
Brandon kisses my lips tenderly, then my forehead, never minding the people watching around us. I sigh in relief.
“Shall we?” he invites and offers me his arm.
“Yes.” I take his arm, and we saunter on the red carpet toward the candlelight table. He pulls a chair for me to sit on, and he waits as I carefully perch on. One of the assistants appears to our side, hands him a bouquet of white roses, and then Brandon passes it to me.
“For my beautiful bride.”
I smile as I accept. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”
Brandon then turns around and sits across from me. “Just so you know, this is the first time for me too.”
I grin. “Yet I’m still surprised. You seem like an expert.”
“Asking for advice doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs.
“Let me guess. Ollie?”
“He’s the real expert,” he admits, laughing. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Another attendant approaches our table and carefully opens the lid of the silver food tray, and a smoky scent fills the air. I recognized the dish immediately. A platter of Ragù with Creamy Polenta, and on the other side is an affogato—a coffee-based ice cream dessert. My tongue salivates at the scent and the presentation alone.
“I thought you’d like Italian and ice cream.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Then the attendant uncorks the bottle of Armand de Brignac and pours it expertly on our glasses.
“Well, you’ve taken care of my meal since then. So it’s my turn. Buon appetito“Grazie milleI speak again after a few beats. “I’m really impressed. This is delicious.”
“Well, that’s all I intend to do.” He eats a spoonful of his food. “To please you.”
“To please me,” I repeat, chuckling. “Let me just say that I almost don’t know the feeling.”
“And I also intend to do that for a long time in the future.” He takes his glass of champagne and drinks a gulp.
“We haven’t spoken of the wedding date yet,” I say, remembering the other purpose of this dinner. “When do you plan to do that?”
“As early as possible. In a month, maybe? If that’s alright with you, of course.”
I blink. “Why in a month, if I may ask?”
“It’s after the time you’ll reach your goal for the restaurant.”
“And if I don’t reach the goal?”
An airy laugh escapes his mouth. “You will. I believe in you.”
“Or you can just ask me if I want to do it in a month regardless,” I propose.
“All right, princess. What do you think? I’m open to suggestions.”
“Let’s do it.” I shrug.
“In a month?”
“Yes, I guess.”
“Regardless of your plans for the restaurant?”
“I’m close to reaching my goal, Brandon,” I say with all my confidence.
“Darling, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Your decision is important, so I’ll ask again. Are you sure?”
I halt for a second and grin sweetly at him. “I’m sure, and to convince you I really am…” I take a deep breath and slip my hand into my purse, then draw out the small box I meant to give to him anyway. I present it before his eyes and show him the custom-made ring I got from that gift shop.
His mouth parts a little.
“It’s not much, and it’s not as expensive as what you gave me, but this is, um—” I chuckle nervously “—but if you don’t like it then…”
He abruptly snatches his gift from my hand and stares at it.
“Brandon!” I spring up to get the ring back, but he moves his hand away.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I can get you something else you prefer.”
“Sit back down.” His voice is a command, making me nervous more than I already am. “It’s mine, you said,” he murmurs.
I clear my throat. “Yes.”
He pulls the ring out of the box and looks at it with admiration. A smile plays across his lips. The expression on his flawless face is one pure of satisfaction and awe.
“This is customized?” he notices, semi-dazed. “This is your handwriting.”
I nod, blushing. “Yes.” He must have recognized my writing from when I was still putting notes together with his meals.
He raises an eyebrow. “Alayna heart“Alayna loves Brandon,” I correct, rolling my eyes.
I then watch him put it on his finger and study it while on his hand, still smiling as he does. Suddenly, his face is already in front of me and with his mouth touching mine. And with my open eyes, I see him standing up from his chair.
“You’re right. You do love me,” he says softly between the small gaps of our lips. “Though you haven’t finished what you were saying yet.”
“What am I saying?”
He moves back to his seat. “The thing you were planning to say earlier.”
“What?” I frown. “Are you waiting for ‘Will you marry me?’.He cuts me off with his low chuckle. “Yes, Alayna. I will marry you.”