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He whined low in his throat and released my sack. “Please, Daddy, please. I want you inside me, need you to fill me up with your babies. Make me your wife.”
“You already are, Princess.” I stroked his chin and grinned. “My pretty little housewife, ripe for the taking.” I rocked my hips, my slick cock sliding between those delicious tits, the stimulation drawing a curse from me. “Don’t you want me to come on your tits, sweetheart?”
He whimpered. “Please, Husband. Please. Inside me. Need to feel you all the way in my stomach. Need you to stretch me open.”
I growled and stepped away from the desk. I grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him off the wood, then spun him around as if he weighed nothing. This time I pressed his chest to the desk, hauling his ass into the air facing toward me.
I kicked the chair farther back, out of the way, and opened the drawer to grab the lube that I liked to use for myself before Quin had entered my life. I took the time to stretch him with two fingers, listening to the way he moaned for me, begging. The cries that left his mouth were addicting and I couldn’t get enough.
His spine arched and he raised his ass toward me, demanding without saying anything. I knew what he wanted, and I needed the same.
I lubed up my cock and pressed the head against his tight ring of muscle. He rocked back against me and let out a relieved breath as I pushed into him. He opened for me, his hole welcoming me and drawing me in farther until I was balls deep. He stiffened for a moment, and I waited, reaching around to pet his cock gently.
“Do you like this, baby girl? Like your husband playing with you?” I nibbled at the top of his ear, and he let out a half sob.
“Please, Matt. Please make love to me.” He turned his head, and I grabbed his chin, slamming my mouth against his. He tasted sweet, and I couldn’t get enough. Needed more.
I swept kisses over the width of his shoulders before I began to pound into him. There was nothing gentle about the way I thrust into his warm tightness because we both needed so much more. We craved rough, hard lovemaking. He was mine now, and I wanted him to know that in such a way that he would feel my cock inside him even when I wasn’t. There wouldn’t be a day that went by without him feeling me in his hot little pussy.
I plastered my chest to his back, peppering more kisses over his cheek as I wrapped my arm around his neck, securing him in a chokehold. I didn’t hurt him, but gripped just hard enough that he couldn’t move while I hammered his hole.
The cries of ecstasy that slipped from his mouth encouraged me to keep going harder and faster. He grasped the wrist of the arm holding him, the diamond ring smooth against my heated skin, and moaned louder. “Please, Matt. Please. Make me your wife. Breed me. Make me your pregnant housewife. I want that so bad.”
“Fuck, fuck.” Sweat beaded on my forehead and slid down my face, and if this was how I died, then I’d be the happiest man on Earth.
He trembled. “I’m going to come. Matt, I’m coming!”
The fact that he hadn’t touched himself, yet he was going over the edge, affected me in ways I’d never expected.
I did that.
I made him come untouched.
Pure joy hit me like a punch to the gut, and all at once, it was too much. Quin’s tightness. The way he screamed out in pleasure. How hard I’d made him come. That was for me.
My orgasm ripped through me in a tidal wave, and my balls drew up toward my body, and it was over in a flood of pleasure. I came, filling him until my cum spilled out.
He shivered and moaned and tilted his chin up toward me, pleading with his eyes and the way his ruby red lips puckered. I was only a man, weak when it came to Quin, apparently.
I kissed him gently, coming down from my orgasm high. “Hello, baby girl,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Hello, Husband.”
There were so many other things I wanted to say, but I didn’t know how to put them into words. Fuck, I’d never been great with emotions and shit. I’d grown up with a father who was all about masculinity and the power that a man held. I supposed that explained some things, like my own internalized homophobia and the inability to see that I could be attracted to men. Well.... That wasn’t exactly true, either. I hadn’t been interested in any man until Quin.
He was special.
Mine.
“You’re the perfect wife.” I rubbed my nose against his and kissed his temple, grateful to have him at my side. Maybe that was all he needed to hear. “I can’t wait to make it official.”
“Me too, Matt.” The smile he gave me crinkled the corners of his mouth, creating dimples. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Princess.”
EPILOGUE
QUIN
