Loving Mr. Cane (Cane 3) - Page 47

He had both of our plates ready, so I dug right in.

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I had to make those calls today for Cora.”

“It’s fine. Stop apologizing.”

He smirked and cut into his toast, popping a piece into his mouth. “You like art?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“What do you say we go to a museum today?” His eyes shimmered, and I laughed, grabbing the syrup.

“That sounds fun, babe. Let’s do it.”

“Oh, I’m your babe now?” he teased.

“Oh, shut up.” I giggled. “You’ve always been my babe.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t using that word all my interns use now. What is it? Bay, or some shit like that?”

“You mean bae?” I broke out in another laugh. “And no. I hate that word so much.”

“Yeah.” His nose scrunched up. “Me too.”

* * *

After eating, Cane took a quick shower. I did my makeup while he was in there, and we were off. He ended up taking me to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Going there felt strange. I’d never been in a museum on vacation, but I felt very hip for going—like I was ahead of my own time and generation. There were so many different forms of artwork there, some of it catching my attention much more than I thought it would. We spent an hour and a half at the museum, but instead of calling his driver, Cane flagged down a taxi, all because I was dying to have the experience of riding in a taxi in New York City.

To be perfectly clear, I hated it. All the movies I’d watched weren’t kidding about the traffic. It was awful. Due to our late start that morning, we ate a late lunch, and then after lunch, we walked to Central Park, where a small band was doing live music. The cool thing about this band, though, was that they played on recycled items: the drummer played on empty paint containers and old pot lids, and the singer didn’t have a mic, but was playing an acoustic guitar, while another guy played a harmonica, and another woman used a stick over the ridges of a water bottle.

To my complete surprise, Cane danced with me, right in the middle of Central Park.

“I never took you for a dancer!” My voice was shrill as he held my hand and reeled me into him.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Kandy Cane.” He smiled, and it was everything to me.

To say our day was amazing wasn’t enough. It was phenomenal. Breathtaking. Every single moment was pure bliss. The sun began to sink again, so Cane called a driver and had him take us back to the hotel. Once we were inside the room, that feeling came over me again—the one where I couldn’t keep my hands off of him.

“Take me again,” I urged.

He laid me on the bed, but flipped me over so my backside was facing his front. He took off all of my clothes, and when his pants were gone, he climbed on the bed behind me, causing it to dip. His hand pressed to my upper back, and he pushed down just enough for me to rest my cheek on the comforter.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he rumbled, voice thick, and he moved his hips forward, slowly entering me from behind. I clutched the sheets, sighing as he plunged his way in.

“Oh, God,” I panted, not because it hurt, but because it felt so damn good.

“You like that?” His voice was huskier. He pulled back and thrust forward again, and I clutched the sheets.

“Yes,” I breathed raggedly. “Keep going.”

“You really love having my cock deep inside you, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes. I want you to come inside me again,” I pleaded, and for a moment he paused, and I opened my eyes. I sat up, peering over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“You know I love coming inside you, but you’ve never begged for it. Why do you want me to now?”

“I don’t know. I just do. It doesn’t matter anymore, right?”

He shook his head. “It does matter.”

“It doesn’t.” I pulled away, grabbing his hand and forcing him onto his back. Climbing on top of him, I lowered my body until the crown of his cock was in my pussy.

He groaned heavily. “Shit, Kandy.”

“What?” I breathed.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s still a possibility of it happening. The doctor never said it was impossible.”

“I know it’s not.”

He held my hips in place when I started to ride him, and I could tell it took everything in him to make me stop. “Not like this. Not while you’re so young.”

“I’ll be twenty this year.”

“Reminding me of your age doesn’t change a damn thing. That’s still too young to have a kid. You want to go back to college, right?”

Tags: Shanora Williams Cane Billionaire Romance
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