“Do you have a preference?”
His fingers paused for a moment before continuing.
“None, although I’m more fearful if we have a daughter first.”
“You can’t protect everything 24/7, you know,” I said, shaking my head.
His lips turned up at the corners.
“That’s what you think.”
I opened my mouth to answer—and then he yanked his shirt free from his trousers, baring his chest in one smooth, impatient motion. The white fabric crumpled on the floor.
“Hm,” I hummed, trying to remember what I’d been about to say.
The words had fled altogether. His chest, his eyes, the way he moved—it wiped my thoughts clean.
I moved when his hands reached for his waistband, lying back and pulling my hair free until it trailed down the side of the bed.
“My good little toy,” he murmured as I heard his zipper. “You don’t know how lucky you are that you followed my instructions earlier.”
Heat rippled through me at the sound of his voice alone—low, approving, threaded with that dangerous fondness he reserved only for me.
I was so occupied with my thoughts that I didn't notice him grow closer until the thick, swollen head tapped my lips. I leaned my head back and opened for him—my husband.
He teased me, circling my lips like a predator.
I rubbed my thighs together in anticipation and curled my tongue up to touch him.
He laughed and tapped my lips again, swatting me with his length. I glared at him, but that only made his smile widen.
“I think I’ve spoiled you.” He grinned, reaching down to grip my breasts.
My body was heated and sensitive. I arched up into his touch. His response was instant. His grip tightened before he massaged me. My breath caught at the back of my throat, only for him to tug on my nipples.
A soft, helpless sound slipped out of me. The look on his face shifted—hunger sharpened with something far more possessive—as if the smallest reaction from me fed something feral inside him. Heat rippled through my chest, spreading outward in a slow, sweeping bloom that made every nerve stand on edge.
He watched the way I responded, every tiny flinch, every catch of breath, like he was cataloguing it, claiming it, owning it.
When he ground himself over my face, I reached up to wrap my fingers around him. I licked beneath his cock as he pressed himself against my face.
“Good girl,” he said, resting his balls over my mouth.
He didn't need to say anything. I teased my tongue around one, then the other, before sucking them. His fingers bit into my breasts as he groaned.
“Fuck, Everly. That mouth. Open wide,” he hissed.
I quickly gathered some saliva in my mouth before opening up for him.
He not only protected me from my mother today, but he also helped me get to know my Dad’s family. I remained cautious at first because it was difficult for me to trust others.
A knot loosened in my chest as I thought about it—how he’d stood between me and everything that used to break me, how he’d handled each moment like it was nothing while I was still learning how to breathe through the old wounds. Gratitude pressed at my ribs, warm and unfamiliar, almost aching.
He pushed his cock into my mouth, and I felt for his trousers, trying to draw him closer. He filled me up, gently rocking while I sucked.
This was me thanking him in a way that we both loved. He worshipped my body with care and precision. But today I wanted him to lose control.
I wanted him to take from me, to use me, to let whatever he’d held back all day break loose.
