Being Mrs. Cane (Cane 3.5)

Chapter 1

KANDY

It’s been eight weeks since Cane and I got back from Belize.

Eight weeks since I screamed the word “Yes!” while Cane was perched on one knee in front of me.

As a little girl, I used to dream about how he would ask me. Of course, back then I was delusional, and he had no idea that I loved him so deeply, but still—I always wondered how the Quinton Cane would ask a woman to marry him.

Would he make himself vulnerable by dropping to one knee? Would he look her in the eyes? Would he say something deep and sweet, or quick and simple?

I got the answers to all of those questions that night in Belize, and it was one of the best moments we’ve ever shared.

Marriage was a big step, one I hadn’t mentally prepared for after everything we’d been through. To be honest, I was perfectly content with where we were before he asked for my hand in marriage. We were happy, living our lives, and enjoying one another’s company, and that was all I’d ever wanted.

Take this very morning, for example. I was happy. Cane and I were in the bed, and I’d just begun to stir as the sun spilled over the horizon. He was sleeping, but when I ran a hand over his bare chest he groaned, and his eyes slowly peeled open.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Morning, little one.”

There was always something about his voice in the morning. The extra bass to it—a gravelly-ness that made me clench. Yes, clench.

“You leave tonight,” I said with a sigh. I wasn’t too pleased about it. Then again, I never was. Every time he had to travel for work, I missed the hell out of him. He always extended the offer of joining him, but I didn’t want to distract him. I knew work was work, and he needed to concentrate and be present for the majority of it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he rumbled. I climbed on top of him, swinging my hair to one side.

“You’ll miss me?”

“Every second,” he said, smiling as he clutched my hips. “I’ll be thinking about you every day that I’m away. Thinking of all the things I can do to you.”

“Oh yeah? Things like what?” I asked, biting back a grin. “Show me.”

He didn’t hesitate. He flipped me onto my back, and I let out a shrill yelp as he pushed up on one elbow, his face hovering over mine. His hand slid over my belly, moving down to my pelvis. He pushed his hand between my legs, and when I was exposed, one of his fingers skimmed over my bare pussy.

“Things like touching you here,” he said, his lips above mine.

“What else?”

He adjusted his body higher, sliding two fingers inside me. “Fucking you with my fingers,” he rasped on my lips. “Feeling your wet pussy come all over them.”

I moaned, and clenched again.

“What...else?” My voice was breathy—erratic—as he massaged my clit with the bottom of his palm, his fingers still penetrating deep. He continued the massaging a few seconds longer but then came to a rapid stop. “No,” I whined. “Why did you stop?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved down between my thighs. “Would you rather have my fingers,” he crooned, the head of his cock pushing into my pussy, “or my dick inside you?”

“Your dick,” I panted as he stalled. I writhed a bit, aching for the rest of him, but he didn’t budge, only chuckled.

“So impatient, little one.”

“You know I am. Now stop teasing.”

His eyes skimmed over me. “How do you want it?”

“Hard,” I said, bringing my mouth up to his. “Fast,” I added. “And deep.” When that last word left my lips, I clutched his hips and forced them forward.

His cock thrust into me with ease, and a primal growl started deep in his chest, falling through his lips.

He dropped his head, crushing my mouth with his as I held on tighter. Rocking his hips back and forth, he gave it to me just how I wanted it.

Harder.

Faster.

Deeper.

He sucked on my bottom lip while I panted and moaned beneath him. My fingernails dug into the skin of his hips, and he released my lip with a hiss. His eyes latched on mine, and he brought a hand up, tangling his fingers in my hair. He grabbed a handful of it and yanked back just enough so my neck craned, and then sucked on the bend of it.

“Fucking mine,” he growled on my mouth. “All of you belongs to me. Right, baby?”

“Yes. I’m all yours.”

“My fiancée,” he groaned, and his body tensed, muscles locking.

“Yours,” I breathed erratically, and he grunted almost instantly. His cock pulsed inside me as he came, his eyelids sealing as one of his hands locked on my hips.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, pulsing, twitching. “I’ll never get tired of this pussy.”