31. Vines of Passion

Caleb and Naomi make pivotal decisions about their future, culminating in plans for a new life together.

NAOMI

I blinked against the bright sunlight that seemed out of place given how utterly depleted I felt. It was like a semi had flattened me during the night. The disorientation clung to me, making little sense. We had left the restaurant, stopped by Marlon's to grab some clothes for Caleb, and then we were back here, in my hotel room.

Last I remembered, Caleb had been all over me, and then... it was suddenly morning?

“She rises…” Caleb’s voice, tinged with amusement, floated through the air as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

When my vision cleared, there he was, returning to the room from the balcony, clad only in his boxers and the hotel robe, a cup of coffee in hand and that effortlessly perfect smile gracing his lips.

“What time is it?” I asked, my voice groggy as I tried to sit up.

“Almost noon, Sleeping Beauty,” Caleb replied, sliding the balcony door shut behind him.

“Noon? Like, daytime? What happened? We just got here…how…” My voice trailed off, trying to piece together the fragmented memories.

“I ate you out, you came twice, I said I’d be back cause we had a knock at the door from concierge bringing the water you asked for, and by the time I got back in bed from being gone 2 seconds, you were knocked out cold,” Caleb explained, his smile broadening. “Snoring like never slept a day in your life".

“No,” I protested feebly, unable to believe I'd missed so much.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, setting his coffee mug down on the night stand on his side of the bed.

Pregnancy exhaustion was relentless, sweeping over me with little warning. Standing still for a moment too long and I’d be overwhelmed by the need to sleep, irrespective of my location or activity. It was as if my body had entered a state of perpetual shutdown, conserving energy for the tiny life growing inside me.

I’d only discovered the pregnancy less than a week ago, after Frankie, ever the observer, had practically coerced me into taking a home test thanks to how tired and sick I’d been feeling. The positive result had led to a whirlwind visit to her cousin Sabina's OBGYN practice the very next day. The reality of it all was still settling in, yet there was a profound peace that enveloped me—a stark contrast to the turmoil that had clouded my previous pregnancy with Jeffery’s child. This time, something deep inside reassured me that everything would be fine, even though Caleb and I hadn’t resolved our complexities yet.

My grandmother had graced my dreams the night before, a serene vision filled with promises of love and acceptance. She had foretold that Caleb would embrace me fully—and indeed, he had, wrapping me in the warmth of his love and acceptance without reservation.

I found myself profoundly grateful to Marlon for orchestrating the backdrop to our heartfelt reunion. Now, as new chapters were unfolding, I was genuinely excited about deepening my relationships with Marlon as well as Victor and Valentina.

Last night, as he laid me down, his gaze lingered on my body with a reverence that felt both intense and gentle. Though my physical form had scarcely changed, the life within me no more than a faint whisper, Caleb’s eyes, always so attuned to every shift in my being, noticed even the most minute changes. He traced his fingers lightly across my skin, cataloging each new curve and contour, his voice soft as he inquired about my symptoms and well-being.

“All that big talk about making sure I don’t take it easy on you, and you couldn’t even stay awake past foreplay,” Caleb teased, his voice laced with playfulness as he shook his head.

I chuckled, a hint of embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize, you’re growing a whole baby in there,” Caleb said, his smile spreading as he gently rubbed my belly. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” I smiled, placing my hand over his. The warmth of his touch brought comfort. “And Caleb, about me leaving... I’m sorry again.”

“Naomi,” he said, his hand reaching to cradle my face gently, his touch tender. “I understand. If I had done a better job of protecting you—”

“You did nothing wrong. I can’t blame you for Jasmine’s actions,” I interjected firmly, not wanting him to shoulder a burden that wasn’t his.

We shared a silent gaze for a moment, an understanding passing between us.

“So, can we agree to just let that part of our story be what it is? I don’t think we need to speak on it. It has no bearing on our future,” Caleb insisted, his eyes searching mine for agreement.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips, a soft reaffirmation of our bond. Pulling back slightly, Caleb reached for his coffee, taking a thoughtful sip.

Caleb cleared his throat, a hint of seriousness returning to his tone. “We’ve got some things to figure out, Naomi. You being on the East Coast and pregnant while I’m out west, I can’t say I’m a fan of that idea. And as much as I wouldn’t mind being in New York—”

“I’m moving to California with you,” I cut him off, the decision clear and resolute in my mind. His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features at my abrupt declaration.

Caleb's laughter filled the room. "Naomi, I sat up all night preparing a presentation, damn near, to convince you to come live with me. I was ready for you to fight me on it, I had bullet points ready to go, and here you are just suggesting it yourself?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly taken aback by my straightforwardness.

"I’m sorry, sir, are you trying to say I’m difficult?" I asked, raising an eyebrow but keeping my tone light, a playful smile playing on my lips.

“I’m saying...I’m wondering if this pregnancy is making you…more agreeable,” Caleb teased, his gaze softening as he observed me, a half-smirk decorating his face. It was clear he was enjoying this unexpected shift in our dynamics, his earlier apprehensions dissolving into the warm air between us.

I couldn’t help but laugh, though the weight of my next words felt like anchors tethering me to a sea of deep introspection.

“It’s just…Raine Drops…after everything I’ve gone through, I’ve been trying to decide if I want to keep going or not. I’ve been thinking about what drove me to start it and keep it going, and I just don’t resonate with those reasonings anymore,” I confessed, the words tumbling out with a mix of relief and resignation.

“What do you mean?” Caleb’s voice was laced with concern as he settled more comfortably into the bed, his entire demeanor shifting to give me his full attention.

“Yeah, I love haircare, I appreciate everything I learned from my Grandma, but a lot of what drove me was me not thinking I was enough. I felt like I had to do something grand to prove my worth—to fill the void inside me — so show her that raising me had been worth it. I needed to repay her somehow. Passion was there, sure…but so was trauma, this feeling of not being enough, wanting to be somebody special. That’s what fueled a lot of my ambition.”

As I opened up, Caleb watched me with an intensity that made me feel truly seen, truly understood. His gaze held no judgment, only a profound recognition of the depths I was revealing.

“Truthfully, I never knew Raine Drops would blow up like it did, and suddenly, I was on a train moving so fast I couldn’t see a way off. Even if I wanted to stop, I couldn’t. I had employees who depended on the income I provided, customers around the world talking about how much my product helped them, all the press, the praise, the money. How could I walk away? How could I walk away from something I prayed so hard for? That would be ungrateful, right? And how would it look if I just gave up? I felt obligated. But now, with the company being a shell of its former self, I realize—nobody died. All my biggest fears came true, and yet, I’m still here, still breathing.”

As I spoke, a sense of clarity washed over me. Sharing this with Caleb not only aired out my doubts but also solidified my understanding of my own journey.

Caleb reached out, his hand finding mine, intertwining our fingers as he processed everything I had shared. The room was filled with silence, the kind that speaks volumes, echoing with the gravity of revelations just laid bare.

"I can't even imagine the pressure you've been under," he said softly, his voice warm and understanding. "But Naomi, realizing all this—it’s a huge step. Knowing what drives you, confronting these shadows from your past, deciding what you really want going forward...it's powerful."

I nodded, feeling a weight lifting with each word he spoke. It was as if verbalizing my journey and the tangled motivations behind it was freeing me from chains I hadn't fully realized were there.

I sighed, a thoughtful, deep exhale. "I think... I need to find what truly makes me happy, what feels authentic to me now. Not out of fear or a need to prove anything to anyone, but something that aligns with who I am today."

Caleb squeezed my hand gently, a gesture of support and solidarity. "Whatever you decide, I’m here. And this new little life," he added, his other hand lightly touching my stomach, "is going to need a mom who feels fulfilled and at peace with herself."

The intimacy and understanding Caleb offered were more than I could have asked for. His presence, his support, it made me feel stronger, more capable of facing whatever decisions lay ahead.

"I guess it’s time for a new beginning," I murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I leaned into his embrace. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, it felt full of possibilities.

The sudden shift in Caleb's demeanor caught me off-guard, and his words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. "It is, I want my child and fiancée to be as comfortable and happy as possible," he said, his smile wide and genuine.

“Yeah—I—,” I started, confusion setting in as I paused and cocked my head to the side. “What? Your who?”

“What’s the matter, Mrs. Thompson to be? Cat got your tongue? That’s a first,” Caleb quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He reached under the covers, gently grasping my left hand and lifting it into view. My eyes widened as they landed on the massive rock now adorning my finger, sparkling intensely. I gasped, tears instantly springing to my eyes.

The ring on my finger was nothing short of stunning—timeless elegance wrapped in refined luxury. At its heart, a massive, flawless diamond cut in a classic round brilliant shape dazzled with every flicker of light. It sat regally on a platinum band polished to a mirror finish, its brilliance unmatched.

Encircling the main stone were delicate pave diamonds, meticulously placed to accentuate but not overshadow the centerpiece. Together, they added layers of sparkle, transforming the ring from mere jewelry into a profound declaration of love.

The band itself, substantial yet gracefully tapered, cradled the diamond perfectly, ensuring the stone remained the focal point. How did I not notice the weight on my finger? I was truly out of it.

"Flawless, just like you," Caleb murmured, a playful bite on his lip as he watched my awestruck reaction to the ring.

"Caleb? Did I say yes when I was half asleep? Do I not remember a proposal? Caleb, what does this mean?" I asked, my mind spinning, trying to catch up with the magnitude of the moment that was unfolding right in front of me.

Caleb's face softened, his usual confidence giving way to a vulnerability that tugged at my heart.

"It means that I couldn't wait another moment," he said, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I didn't plan it like this—I had something much grander in mind. But last night, just watching you sleep so peacefully, having you back in my arms, something inside me clicked. It just felt right, like it was the moment I’d been waiting for all my life."

He paused, his thumb caressing the back of my hand where the ring now sat—a brilliant testament to his sudden decision. "I didn’t want to wake up another day without making sure you knew exactly how I feel about you, without you knowing that I want you as my wife."

My heart swelled, astonishment flooding through me as the reality of his words sank in. The room seemed to spin slightly, a whirl of emotions clouding my vision, yet everything felt crystal clear at the same time.

“Caleb, you mean you just... put this on my finger while I was sleeping?” I asked, half-laughing and half-crying from the overwhelming surge of love and surprise.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted with a shy smile, his eyes searching mine for any sign of displeasure. But there was none.

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him close into an embrace that spoke more than any words could before he urged me to sit back and look at him.

“Naomi,” Caleb began, his voice thick with emotion as he continued to hold my hand, his gaze locked with mine. “I’ve loved you from the moment you came into my life. I told you, after you tried to ditch me that first night, I prayed to God, and only hours later I found you at the retreat. And when you left this time, I prayed again. I promised to do a better job protecting you, to provide for you, love you, and take care of your every need. I told God I needed you back but only if it was His will for you. I bought this ring as a down payment on my faith, preparing for you to come back to me because I knew, if you did, I’ve been right since the day we met—that you’re the woman I am meant to do this life with.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably as I absorbed his heartfelt declaration.

“And not only did you come back, but you came back bearing the life we created from our love. I have no shadow of a doubt that despite all we’ve gone through separately and together, we’re fated lovers, Naomi. Like I said from the start, you're mine, and I’m yours.”

His words resonated deep within me, affirming something I'd felt but hadn't dared put into words.

“We’re starting a family, and I want to know before this baby gets here, will you marry me, Naomi Turner?” Caleb asked, his voice a gentle yet earnest plea.

“Caleb, of course, I’ll marry you.” I whispered, sealing my promise with a kiss that bridged our dreams and reality into one.

In a burst of emotion, I leaped into Caleb's lap, wrapping my arms tightly around him as he enveloped me in his embrace. His laughter mingled with my tears, the sound comforting and warm against the backdrop of my sobs. He held me close, my bare skin against his, as waves of feelings crashed over me.

“You ok?” he chuckled, his voice rich with affection.

“These hormones just make me extra emotional, but I love you so much, Caleb, I really do,” I managed through the tears, my voice quivering with the intensity of my emotions.

He gently lifted my chin, encouraging me to look into his eyes. His smile was radiant, lighting up his entire face. Without a care for morning breath or the tears still wet on my cheeks, he kissed me deeply. The affection and warmth in his touch melted away any remnants of sleep or hesitation. Beneath me, I could feel him responding, his body reacting to our closeness, reigniting the passion that hadn't quite faded since last night.

In a fluid motion, guided by a mix of love and desire, I freed him from his boxers and slid down on his length. The proposal was foreplay. We both gasped as we reconnected, the sensation sharp and sweet. For a moment, we just sat there, lost in each other's eyes, sharing kisses that ranged from tender pecks to deeper, more urgent ones.

Caleb's gaze was intense, his eyes searching mine for the truth. "You still scared of me, Naomi? Scared to love me? Scared to let me love you?" His voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of earnest concern.

"No," I whispered, feeling a tear escape despite the heat of our connection. "I’ll never leave you—"

In that instant, he moved within me sharply, a sudden thrust that caught me off guard yet sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"Holy shit," I gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.

"I’m sorry, I—" Caleb's words broke off as he kissed me, a kiss filled with such desperation that it stole my breath away. "I miss this, Naomi. I feel like a starved man," he confessed, his movements resuming with a hunger that was palpable, his voice rough with raw desire. "You starved me."

"I’m—" I started to apologize, caught up in the swirl of emotions.

"Don’t apologize to me," Caleb said firmly as he laid back, gently pulling me on top of him, his hands guiding my movements with practiced ease. "That’s it, baby, relax. Just feel me."

Every movement was a reminder of how right it felt, how perfect he felt, and it overwhelmed me. Tears streamed down my cheeks not just from the intense pleasure but also from the profound realization that I was going to be Mrs. Thompson. The weight and warmth of that future enveloped me, heightening every sensation.

"Caleb," I cried out, my voice breaking as I neared the edge much quicker than I anticipated.

I had been starved of him for too long, and now my body was voraciously reclaiming him, absorbing his presence so intensely I feared I might lose myself to it.

"I’m right there with you, baby," he breathed out, his voice husky with his own need. "I’m sorry, this is gonna be quick—it’s been too long since I’ve had you."

His movements intensified, and I gasped at the fervor of his thrusts. This was exactly what I needed—this punishing rhythm that was both a reclamation and a reminder of what I had missed, what I had left behind. Clinging to the headboard for stability, I felt my climax building rapidly.

Caleb's face was a mask of concentration and pleasure, his features contorted as he fought to hold back, waiting for me to find my release first. The gentleman in him always putting me first, but his body was on the brink.

"Holy fuck!" I screamed as the orgasm crested, sweeping over me with a ferocity that left no room for preparation.

"Shit, Naomi!" Caleb exclaimed, his control snapping.

Our cries mingled, a raw soundtrack to the wild, desperate urgency of our reunion as I collapsed on him. He held me there for a while, his body instantly ready for more, dick already hardening, yet he chose to simply breathe with me. His hands wrapped firmly around my waist, grounding us in the quiet aftermath of our passion.

“I could stay inside you forever,” Caleb murmured after a few moments, his voice low and filled with a raw tenderness.

“I know, that’s how I got pregnant,” I quipped back, lightening the moment with a bit of humor.

We both chuckled, the sound mixing softly with the quiet of the room.

“I hope you don’t have any other plans today besides eating, sleeping, and fucking,” he whispered, his lips tracing a path of gentle kisses along my arm and shoulder, marking his words with each peck. “Because that’s what’s on the agenda for today.”

I laughed, his tone playful yet utterly sincere. “Sounds like my plans align with yours,” I responded, amusement lacing my voice. “But I do need to go do my morning routine and freshen up.”

I sat up, gazing down at Caleb—this beautiful, infuriatingly wonderful man. A pang of regret tightened in my chest, a stark reminder of the time we'd lost. I couldn't help but chastise myself, realizing that perhaps it was my skewed hormones that had spurred the impulsive decisions, leading me to walk away before I had fully grasped the consequences of my actions.

“Don’t say it,” Caleb urged, his voice a gentle command as he sensed what was coming.

“I’m sorry,” I said anyway, the words slipping out despite his plea. Caleb let out a soft sigh, his hands moving to rub my back in a soothing motion that was both comforting and grounding. “I know you want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I don’t think I can just ignore it.”

Caleb sighed in resignation.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the space to get whatever you want off your chest. I’m listening,” he responded, his hands tightening slightly around my waist as he leaned back, giving me both the physical and emotional space to express myself.

His gesture, simple yet so significant, underscored the depth of his commitment. His eyes held mine, steady and encouraging, a silent promise that he was there, ready to listen, to support, to weather this storm side by side. His readiness to put my needs above his own comfort in that moment spoke volumes about the kind of partner he was, reaffirming why, despite everything, I had fallen so deeply in love with him.

"It's just that sometimes, I felt so overwhelmed," I confessed, my voice trembling slightly with vulnerability. "When I walked away, it wasn’t because I stopped loving you. It was the opposite. I love you so much that it scared me."

Caleb listened intently, his gaze never wavering, his touch a steady presence that encouraged me to open up.

"And when everything happened with Jasmine…and then Jeffery getting out, I panicked. It felt like I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t want to keep putting my anxiety on you. You’d taken care of me enough. But at the same time, I felt so caged in because you were doing too good of a job taking care fo me. I wrongly thought I needed to distance myself from you to protect you from my chaos."

"Your chaos is my chaos, your battles are mine too," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm that seemed to seep into the very crevices of my worried heart. "And now that you’re about to be my wife and the mother of my child, I really need you to trust me, Naomi. Let me take care of you."

In his eyes, I saw not just love but a fierce commitment to us, to our family, and to facing whatever life threw our way—together. It was a declaration, a vow that went beyond the words spoken at altars. Here, in the quiet intimacy of our shared vulnerability, Caleb was offering me not just his heart but his strength, his shoulder, his all.

I melted into Caleb, resting my head against his chest, where the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a comforting symphony that spoke of home and safety. "Thank you for being here, for being you," I whispered, my voice barely a breath against the warmth of his skin.

“Like I told you before, I want to help you continue on your healing journey, Naomi. I want to hear your good and bad news first. I want to do a better job of protecting you,” he said, his voice laced with a tinge of regret as he mentioned protection. “I just want to love you, Naomi. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. And now that I get to be a Dad,” his voice lifted, brightened by the smile that spread across his face, “I want to give that love to my son or daughter too, with us side by side. One thing I never want my child to ever question is whether their mother was loved and whether I was wholly devoted to her.”

As he spoke, his words embroidered the air between us with promises and dreams of a future together. I thought I had been holding my emotions in check, only to let out a sob, realizing that my face was completely wet with tears as he spoke. Without a word, Caleb gently lifted me and laid me down on the bed. The ring on my finger sparkled in the soft light, a symbol of promises and expectations, drawing fresh tears from my eyes.

“Do you like it?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine for approval.

“It’s perfect, but Caleb, when—”

“The day after you left,” he interjected, knowing my question before I could finish it. “I stayed right where you left me for a long time. Figured I’d pray while I was down there.”

His words conjured the image of him, heartbroken and kneeling, the memory that had haunted my decision to stay away, fearing the damage was irreparable. My heart ached anew, and I began to sob even harder.

“Although I told Him I’d wait as long as it took for you to be ready, it hurt like hell each day that passed without you.”

“So you already had it here with you?” I asked, overwhelmed by the depth of his commitment.

“Been walking around with it for almost two months, had a couple of customizations done on it, so I didn’t walk out of the store with it the day I saw it,” he explained, his lips trailing kisses across my neck and down to my breasts, each kiss igniting a trail of fire. “That’s what I really needed from Marlon’s last night,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed down my stomach. “I knew I wouldn’t really need clothes today,” he added, his gaze lifting to meet mine, filled with unabated desire.

As I reached for him, drawing him closer, it was as if we were committing anew to mend the fractures of our past with the sheer force of our love.

Yet, Caleb had other ideas, his movements deliberate as he gently parted my legs, lowering his head with a purposeful intent. The sensation of his mouth on me, the tender yet insistent pull of his lips on my most sensitive spot, drew a sharp gasp from my throat.

"Caleb…" My voice was a breathy whisper, of surprise and deep pleasure.

"This pussy is mine, Naomi," he declared, his voice a deep rumble of ownership as he devoured me, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that seared.

"It’s yours, Caleb," I managed, my words coming out as a breathless affirmation.

"Don’t ever take this pussy or your heart away from me again," he commanded, his voice resonating with a fierce possessiveness as he alternated between sucking and licking with a practiced rhythm that knew every secret corner of my pleasure.

"Ne—never," I stammered, overwhelmed by the depth of feeling he evoked, my hands clutching at the sheets.

He spread me wider with his thumb and pointer, diving deeper into his ministrations. "So fucking pretty," he moaned, his voice vibrating against me, adding layers of sensation that made me shiver. "I won’t ask if you gave it to anybody else while you were away from me, because I know you didn’t."

"I—," my reply was cut off as another wave of pleasure made my back arch off the bed, the intensity catching me off guard.

"I know, baby, I know…" Caleb groaned, his voice thick with desire as he continued his fervent worship, the sound of his sucks and slurps filling the room. "I carved my name in this thing, ruined you for anybody else…and I miss you."

"Me or—" I began, a playful tease in my tone despite the overwhelming rush of sensations.

"Both," he smirked, pausing to look up at me, his eyes glinting with mischief and undeniable love.

“I need you inside me, Caleb,” I pleaded, my voice breaking into a whimper as tears blurred my vision, the intensity of my emotions spilling over from the sheer pleasure.

But Caleb was relentless, focused solely on his task. He pushed my legs back even further, pulling me toward the edge of the bed where he knelt—a man wholly absorbed in his pursuit. Watching him derive such profound satisfaction from pleasing me only amplified the storm of sensations swirling within me. When he slid two fingers inside, my body instinctively bucked.

“Caleb, please,” I cried out, the pleasure so overwhelming it bordered on pain, my voice escalating into a howl. I had never felt so utterly consumed, so deliciously out of control.

My hands clawed at anything they could find—the sheets, his hair, his arms—as if trying to anchor myself amidst the torrent of overwhelming sensations. I gasped for air, my eyes rolling back as I ground against his face, his moans mingling with mine in a symphony of mutual delight.

"Ca—Ca—," I stuttered, unable to form words, when suddenly, I was propped up on my elbows, screaming as I began squirting. Caleb's face was triumphant, his smile wide as if he’d just claimed the greatest prize, while I continued to unravel on his face and inside his mouth.

My head fell back, my body convulsed, and I screamed out as Caleb’s relentless mouth and fingers drove wave after wave of pleasure through me, not stopping until I was completely spent. Collapsing back onto the bed, aftershocks of ecstasy pulsed through me, leaving me breathless and exhausted.

“Good girl, Naomi. That’s exactly what I wanted,” Caleb praised, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed senses. I was too overwhelmed to even open my eyes to see him. “Turn around and get on your knees,” he commanded, and despite the exhaustion that weighed every limb, my body responded to his voice, driven by an intrinsic need to obey, to continue this dance of intense, passionate surrender.

Before I could even catch my breath from the waves of pleasure that had just crashed over me, Caleb was inside of me again, his hands pressing firmly on the small of my back, urging me to arch in the exact way he desired.

“Mine!” he grunted with each forceful thrust. “You hear me, Naomi?”

“Y-yes,” I managed, breathless. “It’s yours, Caleb.”

“You left me for two months,” he growled, each word punctuated by a deep, relentless drive. “Two fucking months!”

For a man who claimed he didn’t want to dwell on our separation, Caleb certainly seemed intent on making me atone for it in the most intoxicating way possible. The intensity was exquisite, and a part of me—the part that was still raw and aching from our time apart—secretly hoped I’d be feeling his fervor like this for months to come.

“I’m sorry,” I cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into one overwhelming sensation.

“Then why are you getting wetter, huh?” he challenged, his hand landing a loud smack on my right cheek. “You like this? You like when I punish you like this?”

His rhythm was unyielding, each thrust pushing me further into a haze of ecstasy. I could feel my arousal trickling down the back of my thigh.

“I deserved to be punished,” I sobbed, the words torn from deep within.

Another smack, then another. Each one harder than the last, each one igniting a fiercer flame within me, driving me closer to the edge until I shattered, moaning into the mattress. My legs started buckle under the strain of the relentless pleasure.

“Get the up, Naomi,” Caleb commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “You don’t get to tap out.”

I wanted to laugh, to tell him how absurd it was that he thought I could get back up, but all I could do was try to obey. My legs were jelly; they trembled beneath the weight of my body and the intensity of my orgasms. He must have sensed my struggle because suddenly he withdrew, only to lay me back down and dive face-first between my thighs again.

In that moment, suspended between heaven and something devilishly intense, I wasn't sure if this was a punishment or a reward. If this was his idea of discipline, I found myself craving it, needing it every day.

“I’m coming!” I screamed, the warning torn from me as another climax built rapidly. But just as the waves began to crest, Caleb lifted his mouth away and thrust back into me mid-orgasm, sending shockwaves through my body that were so intense they made my eyes cross.

"Caleb, I can't—" my voice broke off, overwhelmed under the intensity of our connection.

"You can't what?" he challenged, his eyes a deep, dark abyss as he effortlessly lifted my legs over his shoulders, increasing the depth of his reach.

"I can't," I repeated, my mind teetering on the edge of delirium from the relentless waves of pleasure.

"You will," he asserted, his voice low and commanding. He adjusted my position with a practiced ease, sliding a pillow under my hips. This subtle shift altered the angle just so, ensuring that with each thrust, he was directly targeting my G-spot.

"Fu—uuuuccckk," I gasped out, the word dragged from the depths of my being as he began pushing in deep. Tears of ecstasy streamed down my face, each stroke sending electric shocks of pleasure that blurred the line between pain and bliss.

"Wanna do this with me for the rest of your life?" Caleb's voice cut through the haze of intensity as I struggled to maintain my composure.

"Uh hhhmm," was all I could manage, my words muffled by the overwhelming sensations.

"You gonna let me take care of you?" he asked, locking eyes with me, his gaze intense as he maintained the rhythmic stroke that threatened to unravel me.

"Yes," I breathed out, the word a whisper of surrender.

"No more running?" he pressed, each word punctuated by a deep thrust that made me want to melt into the bed.

"No—no more," I whined, my eyes fluttering shut under the weight of my pleasure.

"Look at me right now, Naomi," Caleb commanded, gripping my thighs tighter, anchoring me to the moment. "I’m talking to you."

My eyes opened slowly, as if emerging from a deep fog, adjusting to the stark sincerity in his gaze.

"I’m yours, you’re mine," he grunted, each word underscored by a powerful thrust that sent shivers down my spine.

I nodded, my whole body shaking in acknowledgment.

"Repeat what I said. Use your words!"

"I’m yours, you’re mine," I echoed, each syllable strained with effort, barely audible over my labored breathing.

"I love you, Naomi," he declared, his voice thick with emotion as he plunged into me again. I was nearing an orgasm, the kind that felt so all-consuming I feared it might leave me senseless. "I need you to remember what we have. What it feels like when I’m loving you...fucking you..."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, tears started streaming down my face—I was crying like a big old baby, completely overwhelmed by the moment.

“I need you, Naomi,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as his hips continued their insistent dance. “Don’t take your love away from me again,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with the weight of his vulnerability.

He was hurting—a raw, palpable kind of pain that resonated deeply within me. He needed this release; he needed me. I had stayed away until his soul practically begged for my return. I could feel the depth of his longing. He had wanted to gloss over our separation because it pained him too deeply, but now here he was, channeling months of pent-up frustration and hurt into every movement, every thrust. He needed to express it, to release it.

“Use me,” I instructed him, my voice steady. “Make me feel the pain you felt.”

Caleb searched my eyes for reassurance, seeking permission that it was indeed okay to let go, to not hold back.

“The baby—” he began, concern creasing his brow.

“Is fine,” I finished firmly, offering him the certainty he needed.

He nodded, a silent agreement passing between us. Then, with a renewed intensity, he gripped my waist and dived deeper, each thrust targeting my G-spot with such precision that I quickly unraveled, becoming a babbling fool melting under his touch. His pace quickened, driven by a mixture of need and release, until he too crossed the threshold, his roar guttural and raw, reverberating through the room and causing me to flinch from its intensity. If I wasn’t already pregnant, that would have done it.

Exhausted, he rolled onto the bed beside me, his length slick with the effort of our union, his breath ragged. We lay there side by side, our hands intertwined, as we stared at the ceiling, chests heaving as we both struggled to catch our breath. The silence was thick, filled only with the sound of our rapid breathing, each trying to anchor ourselves back to reality after the storm of emotions we'd just weathered together.

“When we get back to California, let’s set up some sessions with Dr. Lynn and that lady you had me with before I left,” I started, my gaze still fixed on the ceiling as the aftershocks of our connection lingered. “We can do some sessions together and separately,” I suggested, feeling the weight of our shared future settling around us like a comforting blanket.

Caleb, still catching his breath from our intense moments, nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea. Premarital counseling.”

“Yeah.” The word floated out softly as I remembered again that I was engaged. Turning to look at Caleb, a surge of affection washed over me. “I get to be a Mom and your wife.”

He turned to me, his smile wide and filled with a happiness that mirrored my own. “I get to be a Dad and your husband,” he grinned. “Damn Lisa, that one-night stand just keeps giving,” he quipped, his eyes twinkling with humor and love.

I rolled my eyes, and we both chuckled—a light, easy sound that filled the room with warmth.

“I love you, Naomi. And I’m sorry for any pain I caused you,” he said, his smile fading into a more serious, tender expression.

“I love you, Caleb, and I’m sorry for any pain I caused you,” I echoed his words, choosing to reflect his sentiment with a sincere apology of my own.

He lifted my left hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Thompson,” he whispered, a soft promise that sent a thrill through me.

Warmth enveloped me. “I’m really excited to be part of your family,” I responded, my voice thick with emotion.

Caleb looked back at the ceiling, his thoughts shifting to the next steps. “We gotta call Senior and my Mom, tell them the news.”

“Sure, maybe after,” I suggested, the thought of sharing our joy with his family bringing a smile to my face.

“After what? Another round?” Caleb’s smirk was playful, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“After my nap,” I yawned.

The ambiance at Cherry Garden’s was nothing short of enchanting. Nestled just a stone’s throw from The Thompson Winery, this high-end Caribbean restaurant was a treasure trove of culinary delights, favored especially by Caleb Sr., who had celebrated his birthday here annually without fail from what I’d been told.

The restaurant's charm was apparent in its elegant decor—a harmonious blend of rustic Caribbean aesthetics with modern luxury. Soft, warm lighting cast a gentle glow over rich, dark wood furnishings, while vibrant tropical plants added bursts of greenery, creating a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere.

As we settled into our plush seats, the air was alive with the rich scents of spices and herbs, setting the stage for a promising culinary adventure.

Caleb Sr. went for the jerk chicken, a smoky and spicy delight, expertly charred and served with sweet plantains that just melted in your mouth.

Helen chose the coconut curry lobster, immersed in a golden curry sauce with a hint of coconut—exotic yet comforting, paired perfectly with jasmine rice.

Caleb stayed traditional with grilled snapper topped with vibrant mango salsa—a beautiful balance of sweet and tangy that complemented the mild fish perfectly.

I indulged in the oxtail stew, rich and hearty, the meat tender and succulent, served with buttery mashed yams that balanced the savory flavors wonderfully.

“I don’t know how they do it, but this place gets better and better every year,” Senior remarked, his voice filled with admiration as he delicately wiped his mouth with a crisp white napkin. His eyes twinkled with the satisfaction of a meal well enjoyed.

“It’s amazing, but this place has nothing on Coastal Fusion,” Caleb interjected proudly, eager to sing praises of his cousin’s restaurant in Florida. “Right, Naomi?”

I nodded, my enthusiasm matching Caleb’s. “You’ve got to head over there when you get a break, Mr. Thompson. Marlon has done something really special.”

“Yeah, I see,” Senior responded, his gaze bouncing between Caleb and me, a knowing smile creeping across his lips. “Y’all two are back together. Now that’s special.”

Caleb and I exchanged a glance and blushed like guilty teenagers caught in a sweet moment.

“And thank God for that because I was sick and tired of seeing this boy moping around, looking sick, cracked out,” Senior continued, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables.

“Senior,” Helen interjected, her tone gentle, attempting to steer the conversation to calmer waters.

“I’m not saying he was on crack, I’m saying he looked crack-ish.”, Senior clarified.

“I swear —”, Helen started.

“Nah, let’s go on ahead and tell the truth now. 'Cause I don’t care what y’all go through, Naomi, if you leave again, just take him with you. He’s no good without you,” Senior declared, his voice firm yet coated with a layer of warmth that only a father’s concern could bring.

Caleb almost choked on his wine at his father’s blunt words. “Dad—”

“Don’t hide your truth from your woman—you need Naomi. Plain and simple,” Senior pressed on, his words boomed around the table, unequivocal and resolute.

“Well, speaking off that…”, Caleb cleared his throat, a subtle sign of the significant announcement to come. He glanced at me with eyes brimming with love and anticipation before turning to face his parents. With a tender motion, he reached under the table to slip my ring back on my finger, lifting it so the sparkling evidence of our commitment was visible to all.

“We’re getting married,” I squealed, unable to contain my excitement.

Helen’s reaction was immediate; her mouth fell open, and her eyes started to water, shimmering with the onset of joyful tears.

“Hot damn!” Senior exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he clapped so loudly that nearby diners turned to look. “I told you this was your wife, I knew it!” he proclaimed, rising from his seat with the vigor of a man half his age. Caleb stood as well, and the two embraced—a heartfelt father-son moment that spoke volumes about their bond.

The celebration didn't stop there; Caleb hugged his mother next, and then I found myself wrapped in the warm embrace of my future in-laws. We all resettled into our chairs, faces lit up with broad, unstoppable smiles.

“This is wonderful! I’m so happy for you two. I can’t wait to plan this wedding, well…” Helen’s voice trailed off, her eyes meeting mine with a hopeful yet questioning look.

“Mrs. Thompson, I would be honored to have your touch on my wedding day,” I responded sincerely, feeling genuinely grateful for her involvement.

“This calls for champagne! Let’s have a toast!” Senior declared, turning his excitement into action as he signaled for a waiter to bring over a bottle of champagne.

With a champagne glass in my hand—more for the toast than for drinking—I caught Caleb’s tender gaze. He was already pulling out a beautifully wrapped gift box, adding another layer of surprise to the evening.

“Before we do your birthday toast, Dad,” Caleb announced, presenting the box with a flourish, “A gift from me and Naomi.”

“Well, shit,” Senior chuckled, setting down his champagne glass with a clink and pulling at the ribbon with eager hands.

“I wonder what it could be,” Helen said, her voice filled with excitement, her smile beaming across the table. “Nothing can top you two tying the knot.”

I shrugged playfully at Helen.

Senior shook the box next to his ear, his brow furrowed in curiosity. “Doesn’t sound like anything,” he commented, his voice filled with playful skepticism.

Caleb and I couldn't help but chuckle, watching eagerly as Senior's anticipation built. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, he opened the box. His usual composure vanished in an instant as his eyes bulged at the sight of the ultrasound photo nestled inside.

“Happy Birthday, Dad. You’re going to be a grandfather,” Caleb announced, his voice catching with emotion as he struggled to get the words out.

Senior lifted the photo from the box, holding it delicately between his fingers as if it were the most precious artifact. He looked from the photo to me, then to Caleb, and finally to his wife, his face a canvas of shock and burgeoning joy.

“You’re going to be a grandma,” I added, turning to Helen to ensure she felt as included in this monumental moment as Senior. It was his birthday, yet this gift was for both of them.

For a moment, Senior was utterly speechless, a rarity for a man usually brimming with words. He collapsed into Helen's arms, and they both cried, holding each other in a tight embrace that spoke volumes of their joy and surprise. Meanwhile, Caleb squeezed my hand tightly under the table, a silent expression of his own swirling emotions as he tried to maintain composure.

It was a significant moment for everyone at the table. I knew the history of what they'd been through as a family—the heartbreak caused by false starts thanks to Jasmine and her antics.

This time, there was no doubt; I was indeed carrying their grandchild, their heir, a child born from the love Caleb and I shared, a love that had blossomed unexpectedly in the midst of our whirlwind romance. It was a testament to new beginnings and the enduring strength of family bonds, celebrated together in this shared moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

Before I fully grasped the moment, the four of us were enveloped in a collective embrace, huddled together, sharing tears of joy. This was family—this tight circle of love and acceptance where I knew unequivocally that I was enough, that I was cherished, and that my child would enter a world surrounded by people committed to their care and happiness.

“God damn, son, you really put a baby in her,” Senior exclaimed, breaking the emotional intensity with his boisterous humor, drawing laughter from all of us and momentarily lightening the mood as we stepped back to wipe away our tears. “I thought I was gonna have to give you some lessons, but looks like you had already taken care of it!”

Helen playfully smacked him in the stomach, scolding him with a laugh before she pushed past him to wrap me in a prolonged, heartfelt embrace. I owed so much to this woman; without her intuitive gesture of sending me to that retreat, I doubted Caleb and I would have ever found our way back to each other. Reflecting on it, I realized how every little moment, those seemingly insignificant events, had intricately woven together to lead us here.

“I’mma be a granddaddy, y’all!” Senior couldn’t contain his excitement as he announced to the entire restaurant, spinning around with the ultrasound photo in hand. “And this here,” he gestured grandly towards me with a proud finger, “is my soon-to-be daughter-in-law that my son put the baby in!”

“Jesus, Lord,” Helen muttered, rolling her eyes as she threw her hands up in mock embarrassment while the rest of the patrons began to clap, caught up in our celebration.

Caleb, slightly mortified but mostly amused, shook his head as he returned to his seat, his smile betraying his enjoyment of his father’s antics. I laughed heartily, as usual, the happiness bubbling up uncontrollably before sitting down myself, with Caleb courteously holding my chair.

“Granddaddy Caleb, that’s me!” Senior continued unabated, now parading the ultrasound image to a neighboring couple, reveling in his new title and the joy it brought him, sharing our personal milestone with anyone who would listen.

“Thank you,” Caleb whispered softly, his words a gentle exhale that seemed to carry all the gratitude of his heart. He leaned closer, planting a tender kiss on my shoulder—a gesture filled with affection and reverence. “You bring so much joy to my family. Your family. Our family,” he said, each word underscored with a smile that radiated warmth and belonging.

“Our family,” I echoed, the words resonating deeply, affirming the new bonds we were forging together.

“Ready to be a Thompson?” he asked, his voice laced with a playful smirk that hinted at our future together, filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams.

“I can’t wait,” I responded, my heart swelling with anticipation and excitement. The promise of becoming a part of the Thompson family not just in name, but in spirit and in heart, filled me with an overwhelming sense of eagerness to start this new chapter in our lives.

That night, Caleb led me through the shadowy vineyards to the historical building he'd been passionately restoring—a project he was eager to show me under the starlit sky, insisting it couldn't wait until morning. Though only the dim outlines were visible in the darkness, the silhouette of the building hinted at significant progress.

Having returned to California just over a week ago, the chapters of my life were rapidly turning. After reconciling in Florida and then heading to New York where I made the tough decision to close down Raine Drops, I felt a profound shift. The revelations surrounding Kayla and Jeffrey, coupled with my own personal growth, made continuing with Raine Drops feel incongruent with the person I was becoming.

After deciding to close Raine Drops, I opened up about my personal struggles with abuse, betrayal, and sabotage in a series of heartfelt interviews. It was a deeply vulnerable experience, laying bare the painful details of my journey, but also an empowering one as I announced my decision to start anew. The response on social media was touching; though many expressed sadness over the end of Raine Drops, there was a resounding wave of support. Followers and customers alike sent messages of understanding and encouragement, wishing me good luck in whatever ventures lay ahead. Their kindness and empathy were a balm to my soul, reinforcing my belief that closing one chapter was indeed the right step toward healing and new beginnings.

In a gesture of immense generosity and support, Caleb had provided a full year’s salary to Leelianna and Giselle, acknowledging their unwavering loyalty through it all. With Raine Drops behind me, I surprisingly found myself breathing easier, ready for new beginnings.

I kept my place in New York, where Caleb and I began brainstorming renovation ideas to transform it into a home fit for our bi-coastal life and growing family. Meanwhile, back in California, we embarked on the exciting journey of house hunting, eager to lay down roots in a new setting that would symbolize our fresh start together.

As we approached the little building, Caleb flicked on the flashlight on his phone, illuminating the structure before us.

"Wow, it’s really coming together,” I remarked, squinting to make out the details that Caleb's light brought into focus.

“You like it?" Caleb asked, a touch of uncertainty in his voice as he scanned my face for a reaction. "Kinda hard to see the vision in the dark," he admitted, his tone a mix of hope and mild apprehension.

The light from his phone cast sharp shadows and highlighted the contours of the old building, revealing the care and thought he had put into every element of the restoration. Even in the partial darkness, the potential of the place—a blend of historical charm and modern possibility—began to shine through, mirroring the new chapter we were embarking on together.

"Yea, I love it! It’s beautiful,” I affirmed, wandering around slowly to take in every detail of the painstakingly restored space though it was still under constuction.

“Enough to get married in it?” Caleb asked, his voice carrying a hint of hope and a touch of nervousness.

I paused and turned to face him, a mix of surprise and curiosity washing over me. “What?” I asked, intrigued by the sudden turn in our conversation.

“When I met you…” Caleb’s gaze dropped to the ground before lifting back to meet mine, a vulnerability in his eyes that he seldom showed. “I knew you’d be my wife, and this is where I saw us making things official. It’s why I’ve been so obsessed with it,” he confessed, a slight blush tinting his cheeks, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “I know it sounds crazy.”

I chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the open space, filled with affection for the man I was planning to spend the rest of my life with.

“You’re telling me this like I don’t know you’ve been in love with me since the moment you met me,” I teased, my tone playful and brimming with attitude.

“From the moment I saw you, get it right,” he quipped back, his grin wide and infectious.

We laughed together, the sound bouncing off the walls of the building, filling it with life and love.

“This,” he said, sweeping one hand to encompass the entire space, “is for you, Naomi.”

My breath hitched, and those familiar stupid tears started to fall again. I really looked forward to the day I’d stop crying so much, but it wasn’t today.

“That is, if you want it. Don’t feel obligated,” he added quickly, his tone serious yet gentle.

“This is perfect, Caleb,” I replied, my eyes tracing the way the moonlight framed his strong, confident figure.

Lord, this man looked fine, and under the soft lunar glow, his chocolate skin seemed absolutely edible. The romantic setting, his heartfelt words, and the earnest love in his eyes—everything about this moment felt like a dream sculpted just for us.

“This is my first project here, my legacy within the winery, and if it can also be the place where we make our family official as well—” Caleb’s voice trailed off, filled with determination as he gestured around the beautifully restored space.

“I want that,” I said, the words coming out firm and filled with conviction. This wasn’t just any building; it was a symbol of new beginnings and dreams unfolding.

“Already yours, Baby,” Caleb responded with a tender smile, crossing the room in a few purposeful strides to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. His affection was a comforting balm, reinforcing the solidity of our partnership.

“So we’re going to renovate the Brownstone, look for a new house, I know you’re gonna wanna renovate that too and you still have this going on, Caleb, are you sure this isn’t too much?” I asked, my voice laced with concern. The scope of our plans was expansive, and while exciting, the reality of managing it all could be overwhelming.

He looked at me and laughed, a light, easy sound that brushed my worries aside.

“Naomi, this is fun for me. You have nothing to worry about except growing this baby,” he said, his hand resting gently on my belly—a reassuring touch that spoke of shared futures and his commitment to our growing family. “And kicking your feet up while I spoil you,” he added, lifting my chin gently with his hand and pulling me into a deep, meaningful kiss.

“Okay,” I murmured against his lips, a word that sealed my trust and surrender to the journey ahead.

“Besides your input on some design choices for the Brownstone, I got it,” he smiled, his confidence infectious. His assurance was not just about taking care of the physical spaces we would inhabit but about nurturing our life together, crafting a world where love, family, and creativity flowed freely.

He released me gently, stepping back with his hands lingering on my waist. His eyes roamed over me, intense and full of longing, as if he were contemplating whisking me away and loving me right then and there amidst the soft shadows and the gentle glow of the room.

“I also have a whole wedding to plan,” I said, my smile teasing, lightening the charged atmosphere between us.

Caleb surveyed the space around us, his gaze taking in the intricate details of the venue that was to become an integral part of our story.

“Well, looks like I gotta get back to work,” he said, his smile mirroring mine, playful yet filled with a promise of the things to come. “Because in a few months, this place will be where we say I Do.”

His words hung in the air, a beautiful affirmation of our future, turning the space around us into more than just a building—it was the soon-to-be site of our vows, our commitment, our love solidified. The thought of it, of all the memories that would soon be created here sent my hormonal self into overdrive. Like I did at just about everything these days, I broke out in tears.