Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
“Taking this slow, Princess.”
The desire in her gaze transforms into a blazing fire. “You can do slow later,” she practically growls, twisting sharply.
I give in to her silent demand, carefully rolling us.
My brain fires off, my mistake immediate.
Seeing her perched astride me, her perfect tits, my mark inked on her ribs, the tiny rounded bump, my cock deep inside her—I’m ready to detonate.
She pivots her hips, her head falling back with a loud moan.
My fingers bite into her thighs, holding her while I drive upward.
Her cries of appreciation fill the room.
Sweat beads on my neck, watching her ride me, taking what she needs.
“Fuck!” I bite out when she moans, shifting to cup my balls.
My fingers move to her clit, grazing over the sensitive skin until she bucks forward, screaming my name.
Her pussy convulses on my cock and I do an ab crunch, gathering her to me, pounding into her.
“Talon!” She lets out another cry, her body arching into mine, her nipples dragging along my chest, as more wetness coats my dick.
I lay her back, kneeling between her thighs. “Can you take it?”
“Yes!” Her nails sink into my arms as she angles, sucking me deeper.
Her eyes open and I’m hit with that blinding vivid jade that awakens the savage need inside.
I thrust harder, faster, each stroke more brutal. She meets my movements, matching my pace. The sound of bodies and the scent of sex fill the air.
“God, yes!” She writhes, another orgasm brewing as I pound into her relentlessly.
The curls of her hair spread across the sheets, her sun-kissed tan, the flush of her skin… All fucking mine.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Her gaze travels up my body, leaving a burn in their wake. “So are you.”
“You ready for me?”
A small smile creeps on her lips. “I’m enjoying the show.” Her finger glides down my arm, across my abs, and down to where we’re connected. “I’m insanely impressed with your control and stamina.”
My cock thickens, and when she scales her fingertip between us, a haze fills my vision.
I grip her hips, holding her down, and hammer into her over and over.
Her pussy squeezes my dick like a vice, clenching with each stroke.
All control is lost, willpower gone.
This woman… my wife… taking me harder than I’ve ever fucked her before.
She thrashes, her pelvis angling, her chest lifting, and her neck stretching.
Mine, mine, mine… the inner beast in me roars, my dick swelling then exploding in a rush. My mouth drops to her throat, my teeth nipping as I pour into her, listening to my name from her lips until she’s hoarse.
Her body quakes, her pulse racing as she struggles to catch her breath.
I’m careful not to crush her, rolling us to our sides.
“I should probably—”
“You’re not moving.”
“But I’m leak—”
“Don’t fucking care.”
She kisses the underside of my jaw, nuzzling into my hold. After a few minutes, her breathing evens out and I arrange the comforter around her, never losing contact.
For hours, I watch her sleep.
Reels of my life weave through my mind.
The nineteen-year-old, stepping on that bus headed to boot camp.
Twelve years later, leading me to a blue bar in Tennessee and finding this woman.
The trainings, deployments, missions, the close calls, and men lost. I sometimes questioned my purpose.
Now I know the answer, and she’s worth every fucking bit of it.
EPILOGUE
WILLOW
8 weeks later
The baby kicks hard, and I try to hide my flinch, only to have Mark at my side.
“Willow?”
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Mmhmm, peeing on yourself would be bad form.” Jewls side-eyes me.
“I am not peeing on myself!” I whisper-hiss, embarrassed my father-in-law heard.
“Let’s go.” April and Bex take both my elbows and I panic.
“No, I’ll miss it!”
Wyatt saunters his way to the plate, swinging his bat the way Talon taught him. Talon and Chase stand in the dugout, clapping and calling out encouragement with the other young boys screaming along.
Ace, Ford, Major, and my dad stand at the fence, watching raptly.
Wyatt looks through all of them and my chest seizes. He didn’t just gain one uncle, he gained four. And right now, it’s written all over his little face—he wants to impress them.
He takes his time swinging the bat, squatting in stance.
I don’t know who it was that worked their magic, but Wyatt was asked to join a coach pitch team for the summer. This is supposed to be all friendly competitions to warm the boys up for fall ball.
You wouldn’t know it from the male presence baring down from the fence line.
There are no trophies, awards, or championships at play.
Just good old-fashioned fun.
Or, at least, that was the plan until Talon and Chase got involved.
My brother and husband are grooming a championship team and going for bragging rights.
Wyatt takes yet another practice swing and I grip my stomach. “I love that boy with all my heart, but he needs to hurry up and hit.”