37. Derek's Destiny

Hakeem and Eden savor their first weekend together, immersed in passion and intimacy. The weight of their decision begins to sink in, highlighting the permanence of their union and the new

Author's Note: This chapter is too long for the email format, and I don’t want you to miss a single moment. Be sure to click here to view it in its entirety. Enjoy!

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Are you new to this series, DEREK’S DESTINY? If so, tap below to start from the very beginning…

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Previously on Derek’s Destiny: With a new lease on life Hakeem decided not to wait to begin forever with Eden.

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EDEN

The room smelled of lavender and vanilla, the scent of the lotion I was slowly smoothing over my arms and legs, the quiet ritual calming me as much as it kept my hands from trembling. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft, golden glow across the room, highlighting the lace and satin of the lingerie I’d chosen—simple but delicate, ivory with a whisper of shimmer. It had taken me an hour to decide on it, and even now, I wasn’t sure if I looked sexy, sweet, or somewhere awkwardly in between.

I was standing in front of the mirror, catching glimpses of myself as I rubbed the lotion into my skin, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Hakeem’s voice.

Deep, steady, and filled with something I hadn’t dared to believe in until I’d heard it spill from his lips. His vows echoed in my mind, replaying like the sweetest song. We hadn’t done anything grand—no church, no aisle, no string quartet. Just the courthouse, my parents standing beside us as witnesses, their faces soft with love and pride.

But the way Hakeem had looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world? That had been enough to fill the entire room, the entire day, with a kind of magic I’d never felt before.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be perfect,” he’d said, his voice low, rough with emotion. “But I can promise you I’ll never stop trying to be the man you deserve. I’ll carry you when you’re tired. I’ll fight for you when you can’t fight for yourself. And I’ll love you, Eden, with every piece of me, until there’s nothing left.”

The weight of those words settled in my chest again, warm and heavy, as I thought about the way his hands had trembled slightly when he slid this family heirloom onto my finger. How his eyes had shimmered when I said my own vows, my voice shaking as I told him I’d always be his soft place to land, his light when the world felt too dark.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, taking in the way my skin glowed, how the lace of my lingerie hugged me just right. My hands stilled on my thighs, and I let out a shaky breath.

My heart raced, the nerves fluttering in my stomach as the reality of the night pressed in. This is it. Our wedding night. My first time. The bed, with its crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows at The Westonberry Grande were we’d gotten a room for the weekend, looked more intimidating than inviting—mostly.

I caught my reflection one more time, brushing my hands over the soft fabric of my lingerie as I turned toward the door. My pulse quickened at the thought of him waiting for me on the other side of it.

I took one last deep breath, smoothing my hands over my thighs again, and stepped toward the bathroom door.

“You can come out now,” I called, stepping back toward the bed, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest.

The bathroom door creaked open slowly, steam curling out into the room like a soft veil. Hakeem stepped out, the hotel robe draped around him, loose enough to hint at the body beneath. His hair was damp, curls clinging to his forehead, and his skin glistened faintly, catching the low, golden light of the bedside lamp.

But it wasn’t just the way he looked—it was the way he was looking at me. His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he took me in. It was like he was seeing me for the first time, and the intensity in his gaze sent a rush of heat through me. I smiled, turning slowly in place, the soft lace of my lingerie catching the light, highlighting every curve, every inch of skin I’d bared for him.

“How do I look?” I asked, my voice teasing but threaded with a vulnerability I couldn’t quite hide once I was facing him again.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice low and reverent, his eyes raking over me like he was memorizing every detail. “I can’t believe you’re my wife, Eden.”

The way he said it, full of awe, made my cheeks flush. I rubbed my hands together nervously, still standing a few feet away as he kept looking, kept drinking me in. His gaze traveled from my legs to the delicate straps on my shoulders, lingering like he was committing me to memory, piece by piece.

Finally, he crossed the space between us in one smooth step, his presence overwhelming in the best way. He cupped my face gently, his hands warm against my skin as his lips brushed mine, slow and deliberate. The kiss deepened, his hands sliding down my arms, my waist, until they settled on my hips, pulling me closer. I gasped softly against his mouth, my fingers gripping the robe at his chest.

His lips moved to my neck, trailing fire along my skin, and his hands explored my curves, every touch igniting something deep inside me. I moaned, the sound breaking free before I could stop it, and I didn’t care. I didn’t have to hold back anymore. I didn’t have to hide the way he made me feel. He was my husband now—mine to have, mine to love, mine to need.

“Hakeem,” I whispered, my voice breathless as he kissed along my collarbone, his hands roaming as if he couldn’t touch enough of me. “I need you so bad.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire, his breath uneven.

“You got me, Eden,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

My hands moved on their own, slipping inside his robe, palms pressing against the heat of his skin, tracing the contours of his chest. He was solid, steady—my anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me, Papi,” I whispered, the words trembling as they left my lips, bold and bare. For the first time, there was no hesitation, no embarrassment—only truth. I wanted him. All of him. So badly.

His hands roamed my back, slow and deliberate, his lips brushing against the curve of my shoulder.

“You ready for me to make love to you?” he murmured, his voice low, the kind of low that sent shivers down my spine, that made me feel like the only woman in the world.

“So ready,” I breathed, my voice breaking with anticipation as I leaned into him, letting myself drown in the moment. His kisses grew firmer, trailing along my collarbone, down to the curve of my neck, each touch unraveling me further.

Tonight, there was no holding back. Tonight, we were one.

He walked me backward, his lips never leaving mine, until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sank down onto it, the soft comforter cool against my heated skin. Hakeem followed, crawling over me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. His weight pressed me into the mattress, as his lips claimed mine again, slower this time, deeper, like he had all the time in the world to savor me.

He kissed his way down to my neck, his breath cool against my skin, each kiss a spark lighting a fire that spread through my whole body. His hands slid up my shoulders, his fingers grazing the straps of my lingerie. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed them down, his eyes locked on mine as he revealed me, inch by inch. The lace slipped away, baring my breasts to the warm glow of the room.

Hakeem paused, his gaze lingering, full of something I couldn’t name but felt all the way down to my toes. Then he lowered his head, his lips brushing over the curve of my breast before capturing one nipple in his mouth. The sensation was like nothing I’d ever felt before, heat and pleasure rolling through me in waves as his tongue teased me, his other hand gently kneading the other breast, his thumb brushing in soft, deliberate circles.

I gasped, my hands clutching at his shoulders, my body arching into him, desperate for more. I’d dreamt of this—of him—wondered what it would feel like to finally be touched like this, to have him this close, this intimate. But nothing had prepared me for the reality, the way his touch set every nerve in my body alight. My breath came in shallow bursts, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

He shifted, his lips moving to my other breast, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin before drawing my nipple into his mouth. A low moan escaped me, my fingers threading into his curls, holding him there, like I was afraid this moment might slip away if I didn’t hold on tight enough.

His free hand began to move lower, trailing a line of fire over my stomach, his fingertips brushing the waistband of my panties. I shivered, anticipation and desire swirling in my belly, building into something almost too big to contain.

“I love you, Hakeem,” I whispered, the words spilling out, soft and trembling, as I looked up at him, his face so close, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine.

“I love you too, Mrs. Diaz,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. A small smile tugged at his lips before he leaned down, kissing me softly, reverently. “I love you so much.”

As his hand slipped beneath the lace of my panties, his fingers found my clit, teasing and exploring with a touch that felt like fire and silk all at once. I gasped, my back arching off the bed, my body moving of its own accord, desperate for more. His lips trailed down my neck to my shoulders, each kiss sending ripples of pleasure coursing through me as his fingers worked my clit with deliberate, devastating precision.

Oh God. My breath hitched, a moan slipping past my lips as my body felt like it was unraveling, liquid heat pooling between my thighs. I squirmed beneath him, unable to keep still, the sensation overwhelming in the best way.

“You so wet, E,” Hakeem groaned, his voice low and rough, like it was dragged from somewhere deep inside him. His eyes flicked up to mine, dark with desire, his smirk dangerous and full of promise. “This all for your Husband?” he asked, his tone teasing but commanding, like he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice trembling, barely audible.

His smirk deepened, his fingers still moving with maddening precision before he stopped, leaving me gasping, my body aching with the sudden loss of his touch. I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died on my lips as I watched him bring his fingers to his mouth, his gaze locked on mine.

He licked them clean, his eyes darkening further, like he’d just tasted something forbidden. Something sacred.

It was like watching him transform, shedding his restraint, becoming someone more primal. His shoulders squared, his jaw tightened, and the way he looked at me made me stop breathing for a second.

“Eden,” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger. “You taste so good. I need more.” His lips curled into a grin, equal parts reverent and wicked. “I’ma eat it all, aight?”

I nodded, unable to form words, my chest rising and falling as his intensity swallowed me whole.

“And I don’t want you to hold back,” he said, his hands sliding beneath me to pull me further up the bed, positioning me with a confidence that made my heart race. “I wanna hear everything you’re thinking,” he continued, his voice a velvet growl. He sat me up, helping me out of my lingerie like he was unwrapping a gift he’d waited a lifetime to open. “I wanna hear how I’m making you feel.”

I shivered at his words, my skin tingling as he tossed my ensemble aside, his gaze devouring me, lingering on my body as his lips parted, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip like he was savoring the moment.

“I wanna know what you want me to do to you,” he said, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties and sliding them off with excruciating slowness. He laid me back down, his hands trailing over my thighs, his touch both possessive and worshipful. “Don’t be embarrassed about nothing. You understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, my body trembling with anticipation.

“Say it,” he commanded gently, his voice like a low rumble, his eyes never leaving mine. “Say yes, Papi.”

“Yes, Papi,” I said, the words tumbling out of me like a prayer.

His grin was devastating, full of pride and want as he leaned in closer, his breath cool against my skin.

“That’s my wife,” he said, his voice filled with something raw and unshakable.

He took his time, his hands moving over me, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over my skin as my chest heaved beneath his gaze. Every touch, every look, felt like a claim, a promise, a vow.

“I wanna take my time with you,” Hakeem said, his voice low, laced with both reverence and something darker, more primal. He chuckled softly, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe any of this was real. “But I can’t lie… I’m still in shock that you’re mine.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, my hands gripping the sheets beneath me. The way he looked at me—like I was something sacred, something he couldn’t quite believe belonged to him—made me feel both shy and powerful at the same time.

“I’m yours, Papi,” I whispered, the words trembling out of me, a promise and plea. “I’m yours. Teach me. Teach me how to please you. Please make love to me.”

A slow, knowing grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned closer, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss so soft it made my heart ache. Then, with a deliberate slowness that made me shiver, he shifted, rising up to kneel between my legs, his eyes dark and focused, like a man on a mission.

I gasped as he positioned himself lower, his broad shoulders pressing against the inside of my thighs. My heart raced, the reality of what he was about to do sinking in, and suddenly, embarrassment crept up, blooming hot across my skin. His face was right there, so close it felt like I couldn’t breathe. This was so intimate, so raw. It was overwhelming.

“Keem…” I whimpered, unsure if I was asking him to stop or begging him to keep going.

“Shh,” he soothed, his large hands spreading gently across my hips, grounding me, holding me still. He looked up at me then, his expression softening just enough to let me know he saw me, really saw me. “I’ve been starving for you Eden, let me have my first meal.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as my body betrayed me, trembling beneath his touch. “Okay,” I whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

He dipped his head closer, his breath warm against my most vulnerable place, and I felt the heat of his gaze before I heard his words.

“This is the prettiest pussy in the world,” he said, his voice filled with awe, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it was real. “You’re so perfect, Eden.”

I bit my lip, my hands covering my face as I let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Keem…”

But he wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t teasing. He was serious, his eyes locked on me as his hands slid lower, steady and patient, coaxing me to let go.

“You don’t need to hide from me, Mama,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated through me. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Just let me make you feel good.”

And then he began, his lips, his tongue, his hands worshiping me in a way that made the world tilt, my body melting into the bed as he took me somewhere I’d never been before. My hips bucked instinctively, and his hands tightened around my thighs, holding me steady, grounding me while my world tipped sideways.

“You taste like heaven, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his voice deep and full of reverence, each word vibrating against me, sending waves of warmth cascading through my body. “I’ve got you,” he promised, his tone steady, unshakable, like he’d carry the weight of the world for me. “Be as loud as you need, let go for me. I’ll catch you. Always.”

I tried to be quiet. God knows I tried. But the way he moved—like he was starving, like he’d been waiting his whole life for a taste of me—made it impossible. He ate me like I was his last meal, his favorite indulgence, savoring every shudder, every broken moan that slipped past my lips.

His tongue wasn’t just teasing; it was demanding, exploring me with precision, with purpose, dragging me to the edge again and again without mercy. My hands gripped the sheets so tight I thought they’d tear, twisting and pulling as he devoured me, his mouth working magic that left me dizzy, my mind spinning, my body completely his.

“Oh, God,” I gasped, my voice breaking, my body arching as his mouth worked magic I didn’t even know was possible. My legs trembled, the heat building in my core, my breaths coming faster, shallower.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction, pausing just long enough to look up at me. His lips glistened, his breath warm against my skin, and the look in his eyes—a mix of pride and unrestrained hunger—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. “Talk to me, Eden,” he urged, his words almost a growl. “I wanna hear you.”

“It… you feel… so good,” I stammered, my voice breaking as every sensation crashed over me, like waves pulling me under. “Keem, don’t stop,” I whispered, clutching him tighter, my words trembling with love and desire. “You’re everything, Papi. I never want this to end. I need you. You’re making me feel things I didn’t know I could feel.”

A low, rumbling moan escaped him, the sound vibrating against me, intensifying the sensations.

“Mmmhhmmm,” he hummed, the sound vibrating through me, low and deep, full of purpose. It rippled over my skin, made my toes curl and my breath catch, each exhale coming quicker, shallower, as I clung to the last threads of control.

But control was slipping fast. Too fast.

“I’mma add a finger, okay?” he asked, his voice steady despite the fire smoldering in his eyes, the tension in his body betraying how much he was holding himself back.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling, desperation laced into every syllable. The need was overwhelming, unlike anything I’d ever felt before, raw and undeniable.

His finger slid in slowly, carefully, and my body instinctively pulled back, the unfamiliar sensation making me gasp, my muscles tightening against him. My reaction was immediate, and I pushed him out without meaning to, overwhelmed by the newness, the stretch.

But Hakeem didn’t falter. His other hand was on my hip, steady and grounding, his touch firm yet gentle, his presence unwavering.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, his lips brushing against my thigh in a gesture that felt like a promise. “I got you, Mama. Just trust me.”

He guided me back toward him, deliberate and patient, his fingers working their way in again, coaxing my body to adjust, to relax, to open. His eyes were locked on mine, watching every flicker of hesitation, every gasp, every shiver.

“I gotta get you ready to feel me, baby,” he said softly, his words warm and reassuring. “Stretch you out a little. You trust me to do that?”

His voice washed over me like a balm, easing my nerves, the tension in my body melting away little by little as I let him lead, let him show me how to surrender. And as his finger moved deeper, more deliberate, the discomfort faded, replaced by something else entirely—something deeper, sweeter, that made my breath hitch and my head fall back.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my hands gripping his shoulders, the words tumbling out without hesitation. And in that moment, I knew I meant them completely.

Each movement was purposeful, a careful blend of tenderness and expertise, his gaze flicking between what he was doing and my face, reading every gasp, every moan, every twitch of my body like it was a language only he understood.

And then, just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, his mouth was on me again, his tongue and finger moving together. Every stroke, each flick, pushed me closer to an edge I couldn’t see but craved, a dizzying pull I didn’t want to resist.

“Papi… oh my God,” I groaned, my voice trembling, breaking on the words. My hands clawed at the sheets, my hips bucking against him as his grip tightened, holding me steady, keeping me in place. “It feels so good,” I gasped, my head tossing back, the intensity leaving me breathless.

His answering hum against me sent another jolt through my body, a ripple of pleasure so sharp and sweet it made my toes curl. His hands held me like I was precious, his mouth devoured me like I was his, and the contrast—the tenderness, the raw hunger—sent me spiraling.

I wasn’t just falling; I was free-falling, and I didn’t care where I landed as long as it was with him.

“One more finger,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the vibration of his words sending a fresh wave of heat rippling through me.

Slowly, deliberately, he slid in another thick finger, the stretch both foreign and overwhelming, his tongue never breaking rhythm as it circled my clit. His lips latched onto me, pulling me deeper into the gravity of his touch, into his orbit where nothing else existed.

“Papi,” I groaned, the word spilling from my lips unbidden, raw and broken. My head tossed back, my body arching against him like I was chasing something just out of reach.

He groaned in response, a sound so deep, so primal, it vibrated through me, making my legs shake.

“I know, Mama,” he said, his voice dark and coaxing, each word drenched in reassurance. “It’s gonna hurt a little this first time, but I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I promise.” His tone carried the weight of a vow, unbreakable, his devotion threaded into every syllable.

My body trembled beneath his hands, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as the tension inside me coiled tighter, threatening to snap.

“I’m gonna explode, Hakeem,” I whimpered, my voice breaking under the pressure. “I can’t hold it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, his words smooth as velvet, brushing against me like a caress. His lips pressed one last kiss before diving back in, his voice muffled but insistent. “Let me get it.”

And then his fingers curved inside me, finding a spot that sent a bolt of lightning through my entire body. It was too much and not enough all at once. The world spun, my breath caught, and I let go. Completely.

“What the hell?” I screamed, my voice hoarse and breathless as my body bucked beneath him. I caught a glimpse of his smirk, his eyes alight with triumph before I was too far gone.

My body shattered, a cry tearing from my throat as the tension broke, the release crashing over me like waves in a storm, relentless and consuming. It was everything—more than I could have prepared for, more than I could have imagined. My fingers twisted in the sheets, holding on for dear life as the pleasure wrung me out, leaving me trembling and undone.

But Hakeem didn’t stop. His hands stayed steady, grounding me, his mouth anchoring me in a sea of sensation. He held me together even as I came apart, his touch keeping me safe as my world tilted on its axis and settled into something new, something ours.

When it was over, when the tremors finally subsided and I lay there catching my breath, his voice came again—soft, steady, full of something deeper than words.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my thigh. “You’re so perfect for me.”

I looked at him, dazed and trembling, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My body still buzzed from the storm he’d unleashed, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, still shaky, every nerve in my body alive and humming.

“Your man taking care of what’s his,” Hakeem said, his voice thick with pride. His face glistened with the evidence of me, his grin slow and devastatingly confident. It made him look almost untouchable—like a conqueror basking in his victory, wearing it like a crown. The hunger in his eyes hadn’t dimmed; it burned brighter, fiercer, like he was still starving for me, still claiming me.

“I’m gonna learn everything about this body, Eden,” he said, his tone dropping to something darker, something reverent. “And I’ll teach you—not just how to please me, but how to feel good, baby. You deserve that. You deserve everything.”

“That felt…” I faltered, still breathless, my fingers reaching for him, brushing over his cheek as if I needed to feel him to believe he was real. “Incredible,” I whispered, my voice thick with awe. “I… I need you inside me,” I said, my cheeks flushing as I laid my heart bare. “I need to feel you now. Please.”

He didn’t rush. That wasn’t his style, and I loved him for it. Instead, he planted slow, lingering kisses over my pearl, each one deliberate, reverent, like he was mourning the end of one chapter before moving to the next. His lips were tender yet possessive, and the way he lingered made my body shiver, my skin prickling with anticipation.

When he finally moved, crawling up my body, it felt like the earth shifted beneath me. His weight pressed me into the bed, solid and warm, grounding me even as he sent me spinning. His lips found mine, slow and deliberate, each kiss a promise. I tasted myself on him, strange and intimate, yet it felt right, like something only we could share.

I couldn’t help but kiss him deeper, threading my fingers into his curls, pulling him closer as if I could somehow bring us closer than we already were. His hands roamed my body, steady and sure, leaving no doubt that I was his, that this was real, that this was us.

“Ready, Mama?” he asked, his voice low and rough, thick with restraint. His hand slid between us, steady and sure, but it was his eyes that held me captive. The way he looked at me—like I was his whole world, like he’d wait forever if I needed him to—made my chest tighten, a lump forming in my throat as I nodded.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling but sure. “I’m ready.”

His lips found mine, softer this time, a whisper of a kiss, a promise etched into every movement. As he positioned himself, his movements were deliberate, unhurried, like he wanted to savor every second, like this moment was as sacred to him as it was to me. This wasn’t just about bodies or desire. This was about us. About love. About forever.

Hakeem leaned back slightly, his hands strong but gentle as he guided me. I felt the press of him, slow and cautious, but my body tensed, the unfamiliarity making me flinch and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered quickly, my voice shaky, my hands clutching his shoulders like they could somehow anchor me.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against my neck. “We’ll go slow. It’s gonna hurt a little, Mama, but I’ll be gentle. You just gotta breathe through it. I got you. I promise.”

I nodded, closing my eyes tight, my chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as I willed myself to relax. But my body didn’t listen. Nothing happened.

When I opened my eyes, he was watching me, his brow furrowed, his gaze filled with concern and something deeper—something that felt like love.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“You’re scared,” he said softly, his tone steady but kind. “That’s my fault. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just…wanted to be honest with you, baby.”

“I’m not scared,” I lied, shaking my head, even though my trembling hands and clenched legs told a different story.

“Eden…” He sighed, his thumb brushing over my cheek, the tenderness in his touch undoing me. “You’re shaking. Your eyes are shut tight like you’re bracing for a damn car crash. Talk to me.”

The truth clawed its way to the surface, raw and fragile, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“It’s my first time, Hakeem,” I admitted, my voice small, trembling. “I’ve never done this. I’m scared, but…” My breath hitched, and I met his eyes, willing him to understand. “I want this. I want you. Please.”

His expression softened, his lips parting like he wanted to speak, but instead, he pressed his forehead to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the small space between us.

“You’re safe with me, Eden,” he whispered, his voice a quiet vow. “We’ll take our time. You tell me if it’s too much, and we stop. No questions, no pressure. Just us.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes as I nodded, his words wrapping around me, easing the tension in my chest. “I trust you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He kissed me again, slower this time, his hands moving to cradle my face like I was something precious.

“Then let me show you how much you mean to me,” he murmured, and in that moment, I knew I wasn’t just giving him my body—I was giving him all of me.

His expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at me, his fingers tracing the curve of my jaw, his eyes filled with something I didn’t have a name for but felt all the way to my bones.

“Why you love me, Eden?” he asked, his voice low, rough, like the question had been clawing at him from deep inside.

“Because…” I began, my voice breaking as the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. “Because of you. Your heart. The way you think you don’t love anyone, but you do. You love hard, Keem. Even if you don’t see it, even if you don’t want to admit it. That’s why.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. The way he held my gaze, the way his expression softened into something that looked almost reverent, said more than words ever could. And then I felt it—a slow, deliberate push. The burn was immediate, sharp, making me gasp as my hands flew to his back, gripping him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. A tear slipped free, rolling hot down my cheek.

“I got you, wife,” he murmured, his voice steady and low, like a vow meant just for me. His lips pressed against the corner of my mouth, trailing to my jaw, then to the crook of my neck, each kiss grounding me, his warmth pulling me back from the edge of the pain. “I got you. I promise.”

“Keem,” I whimpered, my voice trembling, mirroring the burn in my body. The ache was overwhelming, but so was the need—the need for him.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple, the warmth of his voice a soothing balm to the chaos swirling inside me. His movements were slow, deliberate, his body taut with restraint, holding back even as he pressed deeper, inch by inch.

Tears blurred my vision, spilling silently as the weight of the moment settled over me—not from pain, but from the sheer gravity of it all. This was it. I’d waited for this. Waited for marriage. Waited for him. And now, it was happening, and it wasn’t like the movies—no perfect music, no flawless choreography. It was messy and real and mine.

His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “You okay, Eden?” he whispered, his voice low, tender, grounding me even as the emotions threatened to swallow me whole.

I nodded, my lips trembling as I managed to whisper, “I’m okay. Better than okay.”

“Let me in, Mama. Just relax for me. If you don’t…” he chuckled softly, though the strain was evident, “you gon’ break my shit off.”

I tried to relax, but my body was fighting me, tension rippling through me like waves refusing to settle.

“Rub your clit for me,” he groaned, his voice tight, like he was holding himself together for me. “Trust me, Mama. It’ll help.”

For a moment, I hesitated, embarrassment flickering at the edges of my mind. But his tone, the quiet command laced with patience and care, pushed me past it. Slowly, I slid my hand between us, my fingers finding that sensitive spot. The moment I touched it, the tension began to ebb, the sharpness melting into something warmer, deeper. A rush of pleasure replaced the discomfort, softening me, opening me.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my neck, his voice husky, tinged with relief and something more. His breath came faster, his movements still slow, still careful, but there was an urgency beneath them now. As my body adjusted, I felt him inch deeper, filling me completely, the stretch burning but blending with a fullness that made me gasp, made me tremble.

“Damn,” he groaned, his lips grazing my shoulder, his hands tightening on my hips as though he needed to anchor himself. “Ain’t no way this is mine.”

“It’s happening,” I whispered, the words barely audible, meant more for myself than him. My arms slid around his neck, holding him close, letting him feel the truth of it, letting him know without words that I was his. Completely, utterly his.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low, hoarse, filled with concern and restraint. His body was trembling as he stayed still, waiting for my answer like it was the only thing that mattered.

“Yeah,” I whispered, nodding as I adjusted to the stretch, the fullness, the ache that slowly began to shift into something warmer, something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head dipping forward, his curls brushing against my forehead as he exhaled shakily.

He eased in completely, filling me inch by inch, his movements deliberate, patient. The stretch was still there, but it was different now, intimate in a way that left me breathless. It felt like it took forever, like he was claiming me with every movement, and I welcomed it, the world narrowing until it was just us.

“Jesus,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body adjusted, as he started to move—slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. His hips rolled in a rhythm that felt instinctive, like we’d been made for this, made for each other.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick, rough with emotion. “Shit, so damn good.”

“I do?” I asked, the question spilling out unsteady, soft, full of wonder I couldn’t hide.

“Hot,” he murmured, his words punctuated by a low, guttural groan that sent a shiver down my spine. “Wet as fuck for me… tight. Fresh out the plastic.” He chuckled, the sound dark and wicked, satisfaction dripping from every syllable.

The deep rumble of his laughter made my body relax, the tension in my chest easing as a soft, breathless laugh escaped me. The moment felt surreal, like it was too big, too much to belong to me, yet it was so intimately, undeniably mine.

“Worth the wait?” I asked, my voice trembling, teasing, even as I clung to him.

His pace slowed, his hips moving with deliberate precision, his eyes locking onto mine.

“I’d have waited as long as you needed me to,” he said, his voice steady, heavy with the weight of truth. “But now that I know how you feel?” He groaned again, shaking his head, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that left no room for doubt. “Can’t believe I did.”

We laughed together then, the sound soft, shared, a thread of intimacy weaving tighter around us. His hand slipped between us, finding my clit, his touch deliberate and unrelenting, drawing another gasp from me as my body arched into his. His strokes were perfect, each movement inside and out sending waves of pleasure through me, his rhythm steady and sure, like he’d known me forever.

“Let me see you, Eden,” he murmured, his voice rough, his eyes blazing with want and love. “I wanna see you let go. For me. For us.”

And in that moment, I wasn’t afraid to.

“I wanna feel you like this all the time,” I admitted, the words spilling out between ragged breaths, my voice trembling with the weight of my confession.

“You will,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his words a promise etched into my skin. “Whenever you want it. Wake me out my sleep, I don’t care. This pussy is mine, and this dick? It’s yours—whenever, however you want it. Got it?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of blood pounding in my ears.

“Say it louder,” he commanded, his thrusts growing deeper, each one pulling a cry from my lips, leaving me breathless. His hand gripped my thigh, anchoring me to him, his control unraveling with every movement.

“Yes, Papi,” I gasped, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea, my voice breaking as my body surrendered completely to him.

“Tell me how it feels,” he growled, his voice rough and possessive, his eyes locked onto mine like he wanted to see every ounce of my pleasure written on my face.

“I feel so good…so full,” I moaned, my nails raking down his back as my body arched into his. “You’re so big.”

“Big Papi, huh?” he teased, his grin dark, almost feral, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he bit his bottom lip.

A laugh bubbled out of me, breaking through the moans spilling from my lips as my body began to relax, the burn fading into something deeper, sweeter, more consuming. The way he moved, the way he filled me, it was too much and not enough all at once.

His rhythm shifted, each thrust faster, harder, pushing us both toward a precipice I couldn’t see but desperately wanted to fall over. The sound of our bodies moving together filled the room, mingling with my cries and his groans, the air thick with heat and want.

“Keem!” I screamed, my legs wrapping tightly around him, holding him closer, pulling him deeper. “I can feel you everywhere.”

My nails dug into his back as the tension in my body snapped, my back arching, eyes rolling as wave after wave of pleasure tore through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.

“I know, Mama, I know. You can handle it,” he murmured, his voice low, steady, wrapping around me like a shield. His lips found mine, soft and lingering, full of a care that threatened to undo me all over again. “Ready for me to make love to you every day? Eat this fat, pretty pussy for breakfast every morning?”

“So ready,” I whispered, my voice trembling, thick with love and trust.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice low and rough, the words brushing against my ear like a vow. There was reverence in his tone, but it was darkened by a raw, unrelenting hunger that made my body shiver. “You think this is something? This is me behaving, Eden, cause it’s your first time. But you wanted me to teach you, and I will. I’m gonna show you things you ain’t even thought about yet. You ready for where I’m gonna take you, Mama? ‘Cause once we start, there’s no going back.”

“Yes, please,” I gasped, my body arching into his touch, my pulse racing with anticipation, the intensity of the moment pulling me under.

His lips found mine again, deeper this time, consuming, like he was trying to claim every part of me. And I surrendered completely—surrendered to him, to the love and connection between us, to the fire burning away every barrier I’d ever built. Every wall shattered, every piece of armor gone. All that was left was us, raw and unfiltered, holding nothing back.

In that moment, every ounce of restraint he’d shown dissolved, replaced by something feral, unrelenting. His touch wasn’t careful anymore—it was bold, demanding, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every shiver, every breath I took. There was fire in the way he moved, in the way his lips brushed against my skin like he couldn’t get enough of me. And I felt it too. I didn’t want to hold back anymore. I couldn’t.

For so long, I’d been careful, composed, holding parts of myself back. But with him, none of that mattered. With him, I wanted to let go, to see how far we could go together—not just tonight, but every night after this. To meet his fire with my own, to match him passion for passion, flame for flame.

“You think you can ride me, baby?” Hakeem’s voice was a low, gravelly rumble, the challenge in his eyes hitting me like a spark to dry kindling.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice trembling, caught between nerves and anticipation.

“Wanna try?” he asked, his lips curling into that cocky grin that made my stomach flip every time.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

In one smooth, deliberate motion, he flipped us, his hands strong and sure as he guided me on top of him. The shift sent a rush of heat through me, my palms pressing against his chest for balance. His eyes roamed over me, dark with hunger, taking in every inch like he was memorizing me.

But before I could even start to move, he lifted me off him, the sudden emptiness making me gasp.

“Keem,” I whimpered, frustration and need wrapping around my voice like a plea.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his grin turning wicked, his hands steady as he guided me higher. “Papi gon’ give it back. But first, come sit up here.”

It took a second to process what he meant, but then he positioned me over his face, his hands gripping my thighs, steadying me as I hovered there, unsure. “Wait—” I started, but the words died in my throat as he pulled me down, his mouth meeting me with deliberate intent, his tongue stroking and teasing in ways that made my mind blank.

“Ahhh,” I gasped, my hands scrambling for the headboard as the sensation hit me like a tidal wave. My body trembled, my head falling back as his mouth claimed me, tasting me like I was something he couldn’t get enough of. On his face? The intimacy of it, the sheer vulnerability—it overwhelmed me, but then he moved me, guiding me, holding me steady, making me forget everything but him.

“Keem,” I moaned, my voice breaking as my thighs began to shake, his name tumbling out of my mouth like a prayer. His tongue worked magic, unrelenting and purposeful, his hands gripping me tighter, keeping me exactly where he wanted.

The tension inside me built fast and hard, coiling like a spring ready to snap. And when it did, a powerful orgasm ripped through me with a force I couldn’t have prepared for. My breath caught in my throat, my vision blurred, and I realized with a mix of awe and disbelief—I was falling apart on his face, in his mouth, and he wasn’t just taking it. He was savoring it.

The sounds he made, the low, satisfied groans vibrating against me, sent aftershocks rolling through my body. I gripped the headboard like it was the only thing tethering me to earth, but Hakeem held me steady, his hands firm, his mouth unyielding, like he wasn’t done proving just how far he could take me.

When I finally collapsed against the headboard, breathless and trembling, he looked up at me, his lips glistening, his grin slow and triumphant.

“Told you I’d take care of you, Mama,” he murmured, his voice low and full of heat. “And we just getting started.”

Before I could catch my breath, before my mind could catch up with my body, he shifted me again. In one smooth, upward motion, he pushed into me, filling me completely. This time, there was no burn, no hesitation—just an overwhelming, unrelenting wave of pleasure. I was so wet, so relaxed, that the stretch felt impossibly good, better than I could have dreamed.

“Ride Big Papi,” he growled, his voice low and commanding, his hands gripping my hips with firm, steady pressure. His thumbs brushed circles against my skin, sending shivers through me as he guided me into a rhythm.

His fingers slid higher, squeezing my cheeks, his gaze blazing with heat and pride. “You know what to do, baby. Show me.”

Something in his words ignited a spark inside me, a rush of confidence I hadn’t known I possessed. I moved, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that matched his, our bodies moving together in perfect sync. Each roll of my hips, each upward thrust from him, sent jolts of pleasure through me. The sounds filling the room—his groans, my gasps—felt like a song we’d created, a melody only we could hear.

As I looked down at him, his eyes locked on mine, his hands firm but steady as he held me, I felt powerful, beautiful, and wholly his. He wasn’t just holding me—he was grounding me, guiding me, lifting me.

“Look at you,” Hakeem murmured, his voice rough, tinged with pride as his hands slid to my waist, steadying me. “So damn pretty riding your husband’s dick like you were made for it.”

A rush of heat flooded my cheeks at his words, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. “I look pretty?” I asked, my voice shaky, my breath catching as the pleasure built, swirling through every nerve in my body.

“So fucking pretty,” he said, his gaze unwavering, the intensity in his eyes making my chest tighten. “And well loved. Well fucked.”

“Keem!” I gasped, half-laughing, half-embarrassed, the sound bubbling out of me even as I tried to hide my smile. “You’re so nasty.”

He chuckled, low and deep, his fingers tightening around me, pulling me closer. “And guess what? We can be as nasty as we want. You know why?”

I tilted my head, breathless, but the smile was already tugging at my lips. “Why?”

“‘Cause we married,” he said, his voice dropping, a teasing edge dancing in his tone.

I laughed, shaking my head, but the moment was broken when he leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “That’s right. I can eat your pussy while you on a prayer call and not even go to hell.”

“Keem!” I shrieked, smacking his chest, the laughter bursting out of me uncontrollably. The sheer audacity of him left me breathless in every way.

But he wasn’t laughing anymore. His head tilted back, his eyes rolling, a guttural groan tearing from his chest, raw and unrestrained. His grip on my hips tightened, guiding me faster, his breath hitching with every movement.

“Milk my dick, baby,” he growled, his voice rough, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

I didn’t even know what he meant, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The rhythm between us took over, my body moving on instinct, responding to him, to his every word, his every touch. The intensity burned hotter, a fire roaring inside me, threatening to consume us both.

And then, suddenly, he jerked up, thrusting so deep and hard I felt it in my stomach. The sensation pulled a gasp from my lips, my nails digging into his chest. Another thrust, harder this time, sent a jolt through me so sharp it left me open-mouthed, unable to make a sound. The pleasure surged like a wave, so overwhelming it blurred the edges of everything else.

“Eden,” he groaned, his voice raw, cracking under the weight of his release.

His face twisted in pleasure, his body trembling beneath mine, every movement shaking me to my core. One final thrust, forceful and deliberate, pinned me to him, his hands gripping my hips like they were the only thing tethering him to earth. His voice broke into a strangled shout of my name, followed by a deep, guttural moan that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his chest, as if it was pulled from his very soul.

And then he pulled me down to him, his arms wrapping around me tightly, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go. His chest heaved against mine, his breaths coming fast and hard, each one syncing with my own as the world slowly pieced itself back together.

We stayed like that, tangled in each other, our hearts pounding in rhythm, our bodies trembling in the aftershocks of what we’d just shared. The room was quiet except for the sound of our breathing, the storm inside us settling into something warm, steady, unshakable.

“Damn,” he finally muttered, his voice rough and hoarse, his hand trailing up my back, leaving a path of warmth in its wake. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His eyes searched mine, the concern in them so genuine it made my chest tighten.

“I’m okay,” I said softly, my fingers brushing against his cheek, lingering there as I tried to steady my breath. “Better than okay.”

“You sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowed, his voice low and cautious, like he wasn’t convinced yet.

“I promise,” I said, my lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m just… overwhelmed. In a good way. It’s just—” I paused, searching for the words to explain the swirl of emotions flooding me. “I waited so long for this. For you.”

He exhaled sharply, his hand slipping down to cradle my waist, his thumb brushing against my skin as he pulled me closer.

“Thank you, Eden.”, Hakeem said, voice thick with emotion.

“For what?” I asked, my brows knitting together in confusion.

“For waiting on me,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a depth that made my breath hitch. “Even though you didn’t know I’d be the one. You gave me something special, something sacred, and you trusted me to guide you through this. I don’t take that lightly. This is… this is everything.”

My heart swelled, the weight of his words settling over me. I leaned up, brushing my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I pulled back, catching a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

“You think… like…” He hesitated, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. “Me not being a virgin too…that bothers you?”

“Keem,” I said, my tone gentle but firm. “I knew who you were before I agreed to marry you. I’m not judging you. Maybe I wasn’t your first, but I’m your last, right?”

“Fucking right,” he said, his voice dropping low as he brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering.

“Besides,” I added, a small, nervous laugh bubbling out of me. “If you didn’t know what you were doing, tonight would’ve been even more awkward.”

“Hey,” he said softly, rolling us onto our sides. The shift made him slip out of me, and I winced slightly at the sudden, unfamiliar sensation. His eyes immediately searched mine, his hand cupping my cheek. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice steady despite the slight discomfort.

His gaze softened, and he pulled me closer, his arm wrapping around me as we lay tangled together.

“You were perfect,” he said, his voice low and full of conviction. “Perfect for me. I’m the lucky one here. Like I said… thank you, baby. I mean it. Thank you, Eden.”

I nestled deeper into his chest, his warmth enveloping me, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. His arms tightened around me, as if he was holding the very essence of what we’d just become—husband and wife. It wasn’t just words we’d exchanged at the courthouse earlier today; it was a bond, a promise that felt unbreakable.

His breath slowed, matching mine, our bodies still tangled, our hearts beating in sync. For so long, I’d dreamed of love like this—not perfect, not shiny, but real. A love built on trust, on vulnerability, on choosing each other every day.

“Wife,” he murmured softly, almost to himself, his lips brushing the crown of my head. There was a reverence in his tone, a quiet awe that made my heart swell.

“Husband,” I whispered back, smiling against his chest, my voice carrying all the love I felt but couldn’t yet put into words.

We didn’t need to say more. The weight of the day, the significance of this moment, hung in the air between us like a shared secret. We were no longer just Eden and Hakeem. We were us. A unit. A family in its smallest, most intimate form.

I closed my eyes, the quiet hum of the room wrapping around us like a cocoon. Tomorrow, the world would come knocking again, with its demands and its noise. But tonight, in this room, in his arms, I was home.

And as I drifted off, his hand softly tracing circles on my back, one thought settled deep in my heart: we’d made it. Together. Always.

---

---

HAKEEM

I’d been making love to my wife all weekend. My wife. Damn, that word hit different every time I thought it, let alone said it out loud. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching her sleep, her body tucked into the sheets, the morning light spilling over her like a soft spotlight. Her lips had this little curve to them, like she was smiling even in her dreams. She was out cold, worn out in the best way, and I couldn’t blame her—I’d put her through it since my first taste of her.

Meanwhile, I was wide awake, my mind running a hundred miles an hour, still riding the high of it all. Everything we’d been through to get here, everything we’d survived—it felt unreal. Like a dream I was scared to wake up from.

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. If someone told me six months ago this would be my life, I would’ve told them to stop playing. But here I was, sitting next to my everything, my reason, the woman who made me believe I could be something more than who I’d been.

I glanced up, letting out a quiet breath, and said a quick prayer. Thank you, God. For her. For this.

The past few days had been nothing short of magic. In between all the talking and bonding, Eden wanted to learn—wanted to know how to please me. And me? I wanted to show her every way her body could feel good, how to trust me, let go completely in my hands. She was a quick study too. The way she responded to me, the sounds she made, the way she melted against me—I was handling my business. Watching her give herself over like that, knowing I was the reason she felt that way, had me feeling like a king.

She was spent now, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. I looked around the room, the faint smell of us still lingering in the air. Shit felt surreal.

Her parents were back in Juniper, getting our house ready while we were on this honeymoon. My little business was still running, even when I was down bad. Eden made sure of that—handling the backend, making sure me and the guys got paid while she practically lived in the hospital watching over me like a hawk. School was still waiting for me, but I’d handle that when the time came. Life wasn’t perfect, but I was above ground, and that was a miracle in of itself.

I leaned back, running a hand over my face as a wave of emotion crept in. Damn near cried again. Thinking about how close I came to not being here—it still hit me hard. Eden saved me, literally and figuratively, but that shit could overwhelm you if you let it. And right now? I needed a distraction.

Reaching for my phone, I pulled up FaceTime and dialed the one person I knew could shift my focus.

I grinned as the line rang, knowing he hated when I used FaceTime. Good. That’s exactly why I did it. Sometimes, you just needed to piss your boy off a little to remind him you were still you.

“You ain’t dying again, is you?” Truth’s voice hit the phone like a sledgehammer, sharp and blunt as ever.

I smirked, leaning back against the headboard, letting the cool wood steady me. “If I was dying, how the hell would I call you?”

“Well, Eden called last time from your phone,” he shot back, his tone halfway between a joke and something heavier. “So, I’m just making sure.”

I chuckled, but it came out uneven, masking the ache that flared up in my chest imagining Eden in a panic, her hands probably shaking as she dialed him that day. That picture haunted me in quiet moments like this, no matter how much I tried to shake it.

“I ain’t dying, Truth,” I said, pushing the memory down where it couldn’t reach me.

“Good,” he grunted, then added with a dry laugh, “Don’t do that shit again.”

“I’ll work on that,” I said, smirking even though the weight of what he was saying wasn’t lost on me.

“Nah, I’m serious,” he pressed. “I’m giving you a couple days to rock. I know Eden and her folks got you straight, but next week? I’m sending a chef and a trainer down to you. We gotta get on that regimen your doctor talked about.”

“Nigga, who is we?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow even though I knew exactly where this was going.

“Man, fuck up, Keem,” Truth snapped, his tone rough, but I knew him too well to take it any kinda way. That was just how he showed love—couldn’t ever say it straight, had to wrap it in some sideways insult.

I laughed, the sound breaking loose, a little freer than it’d been in a while. For all his bark and the tension that’d been hanging between us lately, he was still my brother. Always would be. And even when he was on my ass, bossing me around like he ran my whole life, it reminded me that somebody out there still had my back. Somebody who cared, even if he’d never say it plain.

“You got all your meds and shit?” Truth asked, straight to the point, like he always was.

“Yeah, bro,” I said, flipping the camera to show the nightstand stacked with bottles. “Eden’s on my ass about it. She ain’t letting me slide on nothing.”

“Good. Somebody gotta keep you alive,” he said, squinting at the background. “Yo, that don’t look like the house. Where you at? Eden’s parents letting you crash over there since, you know… you’re still recovering?”

“I’m not sick,” I snapped, then sighed. “And nah, it’s not their place.”

Truth tilted his head, waiting, like he knew I was holding something back. I glanced at Eden, still knocked out under the covers, her curls wild and her face soft with sleep. My chest got tight for a second, thinking about everything that had happened.

“Actually… um…” I scratched my head, stalling.

“What? Spit it out,” Truth said, impatient as hell.

“Destiny with you?”

“No.”

“Aight, cool, cause, uh…” I took a deep breath. “E wanted to tell her first, but… we got married.”

The phone went dead silent for all of two seconds before Truth exploded. “What?!”

And then, like clockwork, Destiny’s voice cut in from the side. “What did you just say?” She popped into the frame, her face full of shock and something like joy. I shot Truth a look.

“I thought you said she wasn’t with you, lying ass!” I hissed. “This was supposed to be lowkey.”

Truth shrugged, grinning like a damn fool. “I don’t keep secrets from Des.”

Destiny leaned in, eyes sparkling. “Wait, y’all really got married? Like, for real married?”

Before I could even think of how to respond, I heard Eden’s voice, sleepy and sweet but laced with suspicion. “Keem… did you tell them?”

I turned around, and there she was, sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes and looking at me like she was ready to throw something.

“Uh… yeah,” I said, scratching my jaw, trying to play it cool. “It kinda… slipped out.”

“Kinda slipped out?” she repeated, her eyebrows shooting up like she was calling bullshit.

Truth and Destiny were both dying on the other end of the call, laughing so hard it had to be heard through the walls. Eden narrowed her eyes at me, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it square at my head before flopping back onto the bed with a huff.

“I can’t believe you, Keem,” she muttered into the mattress.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, tossing the pillow aside with a grin. “Love you too, Mrs. Diaz.”

“Wait, for real? Y’all actually got married?” Destiny asked, her voice shooting up with that mix of disbelief and excitement.

I smirked, sliding closer to Eden, who was already halfway tucked into my side. “Yeah, for real,” I said, grabbing her hand and holding it up.

The second Destiny caught sight of the ring, her jaw dropped, and she let out a squeal that could’ve cracked glass. “Your grandmother’s ring! Oh my God, ya’ll really did it! Oh my God!”

“When?” Truth asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

“Friday,” Eden and I said at the same time, like we’d rehearsed it.

“I proposed the night I got outta the hospital,” I added, glancing at Eden. “And we just… fast-tracked it. Wasn’t tryna wait. Justice of the peace, lowkey shit.”

Eden turned her face up to mine, kissed my cheek, and then melted into me like she was trying to become part of my skin. I wrapped my arm tighter around her, feeling that weight of disbelief settle in. Yeah, I was really a married man now.

Truth leaned forward in the frame, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to make sense of it all. “Eden, you really wanna be with this dude for the rest of your life?”

Without hesitation, she nodded, her curls brushing my shoulder as she snuggled closer. “Absolutely,” she said softly, her voice full of something that made my chest tighten in the best way.

I raised my chin, throwing Truth a sharp look. “Don’t be asking my wife no dumbass questions like that.”

“Your wife, huh?” Truth muttered, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then he sat back, running a hand down his face before chuckling low. “Hakeem Diaz is married. Married. Shit.”

I braced for whatever joke he was about to throw my way, but then he surprised me. His face got serious, his voice steady. “Nah, for real though—you deserve this, Keem. This is beautiful. And you got the right one.”

His gaze shifted to Eden, softening in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. “Eden, if anyone’s gonna look out for him the way he looks out for everyone else, it’s you. And Keem,” he said, turning back to me, “I already know you’re gonna hold her down. Been doing it. That’s who you are. Always have been.”

He paused, letting out a long breath like he was trying to figure out how to say what came next. “But you? You changed, bro. Since the day you met Eden, something shifted. Maybe I didn’t act like it was a good thing at first—I was on my bullshit for a minute—but I saw what was going down. She’s what you’ve been missing your whole life. You’re at peace, man. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Truth leaned closer to the camera, his expression soft, almost fatherly for a moment. “I wish forever on y’all. For real. I love you both. Ain’t never known two people more deserving of each other…” He paused, the moment hanging heavy, then smirked, that signature Truth energy breaking through. “…even if this shit happened faster than Keem busted a nut this weekend.”

Before I could say a word, Destiny smacked him in the back of the head, and I cracked up.

“Yo, my wife’s satisfied, so fuck you, Truth,” I shot back, leaning into the banter.

Truth didn’t miss a beat. “I know you ain’t get it till this weekend. Premature ejaculation probably whooping yo ass. Eden don’t know no better yet,” he teased, his grin wide.

I narrowed my eyes, my voice calm but laced with venom. “Destiny told me you got ED.”

Truth sat up straight, his face tightening. “Keem, you been in the crib with me and Des. You know damn well I ain’t got no ED the way I be putting her through the mattress.”

Destiny rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Can y’all not? Seriously. Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

Eden, who’d been quietly laughing this whole time, stood up, shaking her head as she headed for the bathroom. “This conversation is getting weird,” she chuckled, disappearing behind the door.

I leaned back in bed, watching her go, then turned back to the screen. “See what you did? You ran my wife off, Truth.”

Truth leaned back, letting out a low chuckle. “Damn, Keem. You got a wife before me? That’s wild.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “Destiny’s been your wife, bro. You been calling her that even when y’all were separated. The wedding and paperwork? That’s just formality. Y’all been locked in.”

He nodded, his face softening, the grin fading just a little. “True. But the paper means something, though. The wedding, too. The symbolism in it, you know? These girls ain’t just anybody.”

I felt that. Deep. “Facts. And, hey—sorry you couldn’t be there for me and E at the courthouse, but we looking forward to coming out for y’all’s wedding. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“The countdown is on,” he said, his tone steady, like he was carrying the weight of it, the gravity of what it meant.

I grinned, leaning back. “Bet you can’t wait.”

“Can’t,” he said, and the way his voice hit, it wasn’t just excitement. It was conviction. Truth rarely said much without a joke attached, but when he did, it meant something.

Truth, in all his madness, loved that girl. Those years without her? Man, he was like a storm with no end, restless and raw.

Before I met him, I didn’t know what real love looked like, not romantically, not from family. Truth taught me something about that just by existing. Seeing the way he loved Destiny, even when they hadn’t been together for years, it taught me a lot.

It’s wild to think how we locked in as friends, two completely different dudes who somehow fit together like pieces of a crooked-ass puzzle. And the craziest part? If I hadn’t stumbled on his SoundCloud mixtape, hadn’t hit play and felt something move in me, I wouldn’t have followed his music, wouldn’t have hustled my way onto his tour, wouldn’t have become his friend. None of it would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have come to Juniper, wouldn’t have met Eden. It hit me like a slow train—my friendship with Derek wasn’t some random shit. It was destiny. All of it was connected. Every twist, every turn, every choice, down to me hopping on that plane with Marcy and them, uninvited, just chasing an escape from New York. All of it led me here.

Juniper wasn’t just some town D-Truth was from anymore. It was my home now.

I looked at Truth, his face half-lit by the glow of the phone screen, and the words just tumbled out before I could stop them. “Thanks, man.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For everything,” I said, my voice steady but low. “You took me under your wing. Took me outta New York, out the country, out my own head. You help me see a life I didn’t even know existed, gave me experiences I wouldn’t have dreamed of. And then you came back for Destiny. You didn’t give up on her. And because you did that, I found my Eden.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at me like he wasn’t sure if I was being real. Then, his face cracked into that slow, crooked smile of his, the one that said he understood you without needing to say a word. “Man, shut the hell up before you make me cry like a lil’ bitch.”

We both laughed, and in that moment, I felt it—how much we’d been through, how far we’d come. Two dudes who’d grown into something more, shaped by love, pain, and the choices we’d made.

“Nah, for real though, that’s crazy to think about, Keem,” Truth said, his voice dropping like he’d just hit the weight of it all. “We all locked in. Destiny’s intertwined.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, trying to keep my emotions in check, but the way he said it hit different. Like he was finally seeing the bigger picture, same as me.

He took a deep breath, scratching at the back of his neck like the words were heavy.

“And, um… I wanna apologize to you. Everything I learned about Destiny, the Johnathon and Arnold shit—it had me trippin’, man. I ain’t even gon’ lie. Felt like an out-of-body experience, like I could see myself going off the rails, but I couldn’t stop. You know? I said things to you I shouldn’t have. Shit I didn’t mean, just ‘cause you wouldn’t move the way I wanted you to, when I wanted you to. That was messed up. I’m sorry for everything I said, everything I did. For not picking up the phone, not hitting you back. I was embarrassed for how big I was trippin’.”

I let his words sit in the air for a beat. Felt the weight of what he was saying, and how hard it probably was for him to even get it out.

“It’s all good, bro,” I said, meaning it, but keeping it light, not wanting to drag him through it any more than he already was.

“Nah, it’s not,” he shot back, shaking his head. “Not unless you really understand I’m sorry. You my brother, Keem. And if you did check outta here before I could really…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, his voice cracking just a little.

I could see him struggling to hold it together, and I wasn’t about to let him carry that weight alone. I leaned in, gave him the out he needed.

“I accept your apology, bro. For real. It’s done. Sometimes brothers get into it. Look at you and Ant,” I said, chuckling to break the tension.

Derek shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling out of him as he leaned back. “Man, I gotta call his big ass too. Ant still dragging his feet with Angel, talkin’ circles around what he gon’ do. Meanwhile, you out here locking down a whole wife.”

I smirked, shaking my head, the weight of his words settling in slow. “If this whole thing taught me anything? Everything happens when it’s supposed to.”

“You right,” Truth nodded, rubbing his jaw like he was chewing on the thought, letting it sit for a second before he spoke again. “I’m glad you found your girl. Eden’s special. I told you to look out for her, and now look at you.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at the memory. “Man, I wanted her before that. Just… I wasn’t gonna make no moves,” I admitted, thinking back to how hard I’d tried to will myself away from her. “But eventually, she just—saw through whatever walls I was putting up. Like she was built for it.”

“Now look at you,” Truth said, leaning back with that knowing grin. “Goin’ to church, fishing with her pops, running a business, in school. Proud of you, Keem. Real talk.”

The words hit me different, heavy in a way I wasn’t expecting. Truth wasn’t one for giving it up like that—praise wasn’t his style. Hearing it from him, though? It meant something.

Neither of us said anything for a while, just letting it hang in the air. The silence stretched, weighty and full, until it got too much for either of us to hold onto.

“Appreciate you, man,” I finally said, my voice low, steady.

Truth just nodded, like he didn’t need to say anything else. Like he knew.

“I’mma have to get up with you later, though. Got sound check for this private party in about an hour. Luh you, man.”

I paused, caught off guard. This fool just said he loved me—again. That was twice now in the span of a few minutes. And you know what? I couldn’t remember him ever saying that before, not in all the years we’d been tight. Not when we were running through life reckless, not when we had each other’s backs in ways that mattered most. But since the cardiac arrest, since I’d been on this path of growth and second chances, shit had changed. We’d changed.

“Luh you too, bro,” I said, my voice steady, but the weight of it sitting in my chest like a quiet reminder of how far we’d come.

I hung up, staring at the screen for a moment longer than I needed to, letting the weight of that conversation settle in my chest.

“Love this for you,” Eden said from the doorway, her voice soft and teasing. She leaned against the wall, a towel wrapped around her, her hair damp and curling at the ends. That smile she had, it was like it could light up the whole damn room—and maybe the whole damn world, too.

“What you talking about?” I asked, smirking as I leaned back on the bed.

“You and Derek,” she said, her tone serious but sweet. “Your friendship. I see how much he means to you, and I know you mean just as much to him. I’m glad y’all had that talk.”

I nodded, the corners of my mouth tugging into a smile I couldn’t hold back. “Me too, Lil Mama. Me too.”

Her grin widened, and she pushed off the wall, making her way over, towel slipping just enough to tease me.

“Now,” I said, my voice low and full of heat as she got closer, “get over here so I can give you some more lessons from Hakeem’s School of Lovemaking.”

She laughed, the kind of laugh that could soften even the hardest day, before sliding into my lap, her legs wrapping around me like it was the only place she wanted to be. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, her lips brushing against mine, her voice melting into a whisper.

I kissed her slow, deep, like we had all the time in the world. And for the first time in a long time, it really felt like we did.

I pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching on the gravel as the little white house came into view. Our house. The thought hit me in the feels like a sledgehammer. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be driving yet—not with the way Eden had been hovering over me since I got out the hospital. But I’d talked her into letting me take the wheel this time, only because I didn’t want her guessing where we were headed.

She looked out the window, her brows pulling together in confusion.

“This is my parents’ rental house,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity as I parked and climbed out. Before she could ask more, I rounded the car and opened her door, grabbing her hand to guide her out.

“Why are we here?” she asked, still looking at me like I’d lost my damn mind.

I grinned, pulling her close. “Come on, Mrs. Diaz,” I said, lacing my fingers with hers and leading her toward the front yard.

The evening light hit just right, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed grass. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the key her pops had left for me at the front desk of our hotel. He’d set it up so smooth, letting me grab it on the sly during checkout. Sliding it into the lock, I pushed the door open, and the smell of fresh paint and cleaning supplies hit me like a welcome mat.

She hesitated at the threshold, looking around the spotless living room where a sign hung that said, “Welcome Home Newlyweds”, with wide eyes.

“Keem, what’s going on? You know new tenants are probably moving in soon. We shouldn’t be in here messing things up.”

I turned to her, letting the weight of the moment sit between us for a beat before I spoke. “I know them,” I said, my voice steady.

She blinked. “The new tenants? Who are they?”

“Me and you.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

I stepped closer, slipping an arm around her waist as her eyes searched mine, like she was waiting for me to laugh and say I was joking.

“This is our house, Mama,” I said, my words deliberate. “This is where we’re gonna start our life together. Your pops and me—it’s all arranged. This is our place now.”

She stared at me, her lips parting like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Are you serious?” she finally whispered, her voice trembling.

“Dead serious.” I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek, letting her feel how real this was. “This is home, Eden. Our home.”

Her tears started slow, slipping down her cheeks, but then this laugh burst out of her, catching me off guard. She threw herself into my arms, her whole body pressing against mine, her face buried in my chest like she was trying to hide how overwhelmed she was.

“You’re my dream come true, you know that?” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of something so raw it knocked the air out of me.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing her curls out of her face with one hand. “Nah, Eden. You my dream. Everything I never thought I could have, it’s standing right here in front of me.”

Her lips trembled, her hands gripping my shirt tight like she thought I might slip away if she let go.

“Thank you for letting me love you,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Thank you for letting yourself love me back.”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you for being patient with me.”

She tilted her head, that little teasing grin of hers breaking through. “Didn’t turn out so bad, did it? From snatching me out of a strip club to being my husband.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Don’t remind me of that night.”

“Keem,” she said, her voice dropping, curious. “Why were you so angry?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face before looking back at her. “’Cause you didn’t belong there. Even if you weren’t on the stage, that wasn’t your place, Eden. And the thought of any man touching you? Seeing you like that? It set me off.”

Her eyes softened, but then that mischievous smirk crept back. “You scared that man so bad, he peed himself.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “He was lucky that’s all he did.”

She bit her lip, looking like she wanted to say something but was holding back.

“What?” I asked, leaning in, curious.

“I couldn’t say it at the time…” She hesitated, glancing down before meeting my eyes again. “But I was so… turned on.”

I raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across my face. “Word?”

“Yeah,” she said, her cheeks turning pink, but she didn’t back down. She was trying to be open with me, and I loved that about her.

I kissed her, my lips brushing against hers before I pulled back just enough to tease. “How bad?”

She covered her face, laughing nervously. “So bad I had to change my panties when I got home.”

The laugh bubbled out of me as I pulled her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her again, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made everything else fall away.

“The way I reacted that night,” I murmured against her lips, “I should’ve known I was being set up to spend forever with you.”

We kissed again, heat rising between us, and then I felt her hands moving, fumbling with the waistband of my shorts, pushing them down until my dick was free.

“E…” I groaned into her mouth, my voice low and ragged, but she just smiled, mischief dancing in her eyes as she dropped to her knees.

“The door’s open,” I forced out, the warning weak as hell, my resolve slipping the second she wrapped her lips around me, not giving a damn about who could see or hear.

When I said my baby was a quick study, I wasn’t lying. The way she moved, tentative but eager, had my toes curling. My hand found the back of her head, guiding her gently as she tried to please me, her determination showing in every move she made. She wasn’t perfect—not yet—but the way she kept at it, learning me, paying attention to what made me twitch and groan, had me ready to give her all the time in the world to perfect it.

“You makin’ Papi feel so good, Eden,” I told her, my voice strained but soft, knowing she loved that encouragement, loved hearing me. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and damn, the way she looked at me while she worked was enough to make a grown man weak. She watched my face, reading every reaction, wanting to know she was doing it right, that she was getting me there. And trust me, she was. I stood there, gripping her head, trying to keep my balance when all I wanted was something to grab onto—a wall, a rail, something. But all I had was her, and that was more than enough.

She gagged a little, and I tried to ease back, to let her take a breath, but she didn’t want to stop. My girl had something to prove, and damn if she wasn’t proving it. Eager, determined, mine. My Eden.

I let out a shaky breath, my hand resting on the back of her head, trying to stay steady. "Damn, E," I groaned, my voice all raspy and uneven. "You don’t even know what you doin’ to me right now."

She pulled back just enough to smirk up at me, her lips shiny, her eyes locked on mine like she had all the power in the world. And she did. She didn’t say nothing, just went back to it, her hands and mouth moving like she was tryna leave no doubt she had me wrapped all the way up.

"Shit, baby, that’s it," I murmured, my head tipping back for a second before I forced myself to look down at her again. No way I was missing this—her on her knees, looking like my every prayer answered, in the home we’d be growing into.

The whole world? It didn’t exist. Not the breeze blowing through the open door, not even the cars passing in the distance. It was just us. Her, so eager, so focused, like she wanted to make sure I felt every ounce of love she had for me.

“E, I’m close,” I warned, my voice catching in my throat, my hips trying to pull back a little, give her a way out if she wanted it. But she wasn’t having it. She gripped my thighs like she was saying, Don’t go nowhere, and kept going, faster now, more determined. My girl was relentless.

And when it hit, it wasn’t just some release—it was like she unlocked something in me, left me breathless, shaking, trying to hold on to the moment and her at the same time. She didn’t flinch, just slowed down, letting me come down easy as I spilled in her throat, her eyes never leaving mine until I was done.

"Eden," I whispered, pulling her up, my hands cradling her face like she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

I kissed her deep and slow, pouring everything I couldn’t say into that kiss. The way her lips trembled against mine, the warmth of her breath—it was all I needed in that moment. When I finally pulled back, I let my forehead rest against hers. “That was perfect, baby. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to make love to you all over this house.”

“You sure you liked it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

I smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Baby, you just swallowed the proof that I loved it.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down like she was trying to hide behind her hair.

“Hey,” I said softly, tilting her chin so she’d look at me. “Don’t be embarrassed. Making love to your husband? That’s nothing to hold back about, aight?”

“I know,” she said, her voice shaky but sincere. “It just feels… I’m working on it.”

I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, slow and deliberate, like I was trying to ease her nerves one kiss at a time. “Whatever you want, you tell me. However you need it. If you wanna try something, if you don’t like something, you talk to me, Eden. Always.”

“Yes, Papi,” she whispered, her lips curving into a soft smile.

I squeezed her ass, making her giggle as I kissed her one more time. “Let’s clean up and head to your parents’,” I said.

“Okay,” she replied, but then she paused, looking up at me with that mix of vulnerability and hope that always undid me. “Keem… one day, there’ll be kids running around here, right?”

“Of course,” I said without hesitation.

Her smile stretched wide, lighting up her whole face, and I felt my chest tighten, like her happiness was hitting me right in the heart.

“You wanna be a stay-at-home mom,” I said, remembering that night at the carnival when she told me her dreams, her plans. “You told me that the night of the carnival, and I’m gonna make it happen.”

I held her hand tighter, the reality of what she’d just said sinking in. “You wanna be a stay-at-home mom,” I repeated, my voice soft but steady, like I was anchoring myself to her dream. “You told me that at the carnival, remember? I told you I’d make it happen, and I meant that.”

She hesitated, biting her lip like she wasn’t sure how to say what came next. Then, with that same shy courage she always had, she blurted it out. “I, um…I brought condoms with me this weekend, but… you’re my husband. I didn’t want to use them,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not on birth control.”

The weight of her words hit me like a punch. My thirsty ass hadn’t been thinking about birth control, about timing, about none of that. I’d been out here all weekend shooting up the club like I had free rein, and I guess I did. She wasn’t stopping me. She wasn’t worried, and honestly, neither was I.

The corners of my mouth twitched up into a calm smile, and I held her gaze. “So maybe in a few weeks, we find out we got a little Hakeem or Eden on the way,” I said, my tone steady, deliberate. “Whatever it is, I’m ready for it, E. I’m ready for anything with you.”

Her eyes widened for a second, and then a flicker of doubt crept in. “We should have discussed this before,” she said, her voice tinged with regret, like she was second-guessing her choice.

“Nah,” I said, cutting that thought short as I cupped her face, making sure she heard every word. “You’re my wife, Eden. If a baby shows up, it shows up. And we rock with it. I’m not going anywhere, ever. This ain’t no temporary thing. This means forever,” I said, lifting her hand, the ring catching the light between us. “I love you, Eden Diaz.”

Her lips trembled, and then she smiled, the kind of smile that made the world slow down. “I love you too, Hakeem.”

She kissed me again, a kiss that felt like a promise. And then we just stood there, holding each other in the quiet, letting everything settle. The weight of it all—the hurdles we’d jumped to get here, the near-misses, the way the universe had rearranged itself to pull us together—it all hung in the air between us.

This house wasn’t just walls and a roof. It was the start of everything we were building. A life. A family. A future. And I wasn’t gonna let anything or anyone take that from us. Not now, not ever.

to be continued…

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© 2024 J.T. Westonberry. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permissions, visit UrbanLoveStories.com