Marly breathed out in surprise at what she read in his face.
“Forever?” she asked him hesitantly, her lips parting in hope and fear.
“Definitely forever, baby.” He leaned forward, kissing her parted lips softly. “Marry me, Marly?”
“What?” She whispered as he dragged her dress desperately over her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the couch as the other hand tore at the fastening of his slacks.
She felt her drink leave her hand, only vaguely aware that Tara had rescued it as Cade spread her thighs and after hurriedly testing her readiness, thrust his cock deep and hard into her hot channel. Gripping her hips, he began to fuck her in slow, consuming thrusts that had her crying out for release. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her hips lifting to him as her pushed into her over and over again. Gasping, fighting for breath, she met each thrust of his thick shaft into her body.
“I love you, Marly,” he groaned, his voice strangled as he jerked her forward, taking her lips in a kiss that touched her very soul.
His tongue speared into her mouth, tangling with hers as he felt between her thighs and slowly pulled the plug free of her rear. Marly arched, cried out, and climaxed with a shattered cry, before he pulled her to the floor, bent her over the couch and pushed into that tighter, hotter entrance.
Her back bowed, a cry strangling in her throat as she felt him fill her once again. Then he was pushing into her hard and fast, driving them as their senses exploded as swiftly as their bodies, leaving them gasping in the aftermath of a release so vicious it still shuddered through their bodies minutes later.
Cade held her close, tight, his body still a part of hers. The heat and hardness that was always a part of him heated her to her soul. His breathing was rough, matching the jerky rhythm of hers.
“Mine,” he whispered at her neck, his lips caressing the damp skin there.
“Mine.” She smiled, knowing that finally it was true.
If she worried that the threat against her seemed conquered so easily, then she refused to allow it to mar this moment of happiness that she knew Cade needed so desperately. If she feared the choice she had made had done little to still his demons, then she assured herself that her love would at least ease the way. He loved her. She knew that now, and she prayed that together they would defeat the demons of his past, and problems that could arise in their future.
Epilogue
Brock was a man driven. A man who had reached the end of his fragile control. He stalked through the gym, bypassing the curious looks, the worried frowns and headed for the back corner where a male worked out among the heavy weights under the lustful eye of the young woman cooing over his bulging muscles.
Rage surged through his veins, pounding with a rhythm of fury that he found hard pressed to control. When he reached the man, he jerked the weights out of his hands and threw them to the floor. The resulting thunder of the action had the cavernous room going deathly silent.
“Hey, are you crazy?” Mark Tate bit out, then gasped as he was grabbed by the front of his thin muscle shirt and thrown heavily against the wall.
Brock didn’t give him time to retaliate. In a quick move, he had his hand wrapped around Mark’s throat, leaving only meager room for the man to breathe. Desperate hands gripped at his wrist, but Brock only tightened the hold.
“Divorce her,” he growled furiously, a killing rage surging through him as he glanced at the scantily clad ‘other woman’ that always seemed to shadow Mark. “Sign the papers or I’ll make you wish you had. You understand me?”
Mark knew exactly who and what Brock meant. He had been warned. Brock had made certain of that when he learned Sarah had been asking for one.
“My wife,” Mark gasped.
/> Brock tightened his hold, watching dispassionately as the other man paled.
“My woman,” Brock amended. “Mine. And I mean to have her.”
Mark nodded with a jerky movement. Brock eased the pressure on his throat.
“Whose woman is she, Mark?” he asked him coldly.
“Yours,” Mark gasped.
“Sign the papers,” he ordered him again. “You have until tomorrow evening to get it done. If you don’t, and I find you again, I promise, I’ll hurt you.”
Mark nodded. A stilted, painful movement against Brock’s hand. Slowly, Brock released him.
“Don’t make me kill you, Mark.” He leaned close to whisper the words. “This time, I promise, I will.”
Unnoticed, quiet and hidden, the watcher observed the confrontation. It had been by luck alone that he was there when Brock stalked in, that he was close enough to hear all but the last, whispered words.
It was the woman. It was always a woman. His fists clenched in fury. Hatred, dark and all consuming, surged through him. First Cade, victorious in claiming his Marly, and now Brock, thinking he could do the same. If it were allowed to continue, then Sam would seek his happiness. Sam could not be allowed to believe he could seek his happiness. But if Brock, the oldest twin succeeded, then Sam would believe he could as well.