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I had fallen hard for him, and it hurt so much to want a man I couldn't have.
Kandy and Cane. His Kandy Cane.
We'd started something—lit an inextinguishable fire in our souls—and that fire was going to burn us inside and out. It was going to consume us whole and probably destroy us.
“From now on, those lips will only go around my cock. Do you understand?”
“If you’re still talking and hanging out with that boy, break it off with him.”
“Doesn’t matter what kind of shit we go through, you’ll always be mine, Kandy. Doesn’t matter how fucked up the situation is, or how wrong it fucking feels…you are mine.”
“if you don’t love everything about yourself, how can you possibly take on the task of loving everything about someone else?”
which made scarring her my biggest fear of all.
“You’re still on birth control?” he rasped. “Yes,” I assured him, still out of breath. “Good. I hate condoms.”
But this was Kandy. My Kandy. My baby. And as my baby, I knew I had to take care of her.
Wanting you is a beautiful challenge, Kandy Cane, and though it’s complicated, I don’t want to figure this one out anytime soon. As selfish as it sounds, I want this challenge to last for as long as it possibly can. I love the spontaneity of what we have—the satisfaction I get when I see your smile, and the comfort I feel when your skin touches mine.”
“Don’t ever think I don’t love you,” he said in my ear. A full thrust. More tears. “I fucking love you, Kandy. Love you more than words.”
