"I love the taste of your pussy, baby," he moans into my sex. "God, I missed you." He's only been gone two days, but yes, my pussy missed him too. I can feel myself growing wetter with each filthy word that falls from his lips.
As his mouth fucks me, I can't help but think of Caine. The memory of his slow, confident smile, the way his beautiful eyes seemed to see right through me—it all floods my senses, heightening my arousal to a nearly unbearable peak.
I don't fight the images, the thoughts; instead, I let them wash over me, let them fuel the fire that Reeves is stoking with his very talented tongue. I know I'm being bad, but I feel I deserve it… indulging in a bit of fantasy is not much to ask.
I'm lost in a sea of pleasure, my hips bucking against Reeves’s mouth as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. But just as I'm about to finally get there, he pulls away, almost as if he knows that I've been thinking of another man, that I'm a filthy girl. Maybe I don't deserve to get off.
Before I can even catch my breath, he flips me around, positioning me on all fours. He breathes hard against my ear as he enters me from behind, his thick cock filling me completely. I gasp at the intensity of it, the raw, animalistic need that drives him deeper and harder with each thrust.
I love every minute of it, the way he takes me so hard, the way he makes me feel owned and cherished all at once. My fingers clutch at the sheets, my body rocking back to meet his as he fucks me with a passion that borders on frenzy. The door is locked, but still, inthe back of my mind, I pray that Liam won't choose this moment to need us.
Reeves’s hand snakes around my hips, finding my clit with impressive precision. The sensation of him inside me, his fingers working their magic—it's too much, and within moments, I'm spiralling into an amazing orgasm, my body convulsing around him as I cry out his name.
With a final, powerful thrust, Reeves finds his own release, his body shuddering against mine as he comes. We collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, our breathing ragged and our hearts pounding in unison.
For a long moment, we lie there in the aftermath, neither of us speaking, neither of us willing to break the spell that has been cast over our bedroom.
And as I slowly drift off to sleep in Reeves’s arms, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to be with a man like Caine—a man who holds himself with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly who he is and what he wants.
But those thoughts are for another time. Tonight, I am here with Reeves, the man I love, the father of my child. And for now, that's more than enough.
I wake to the soft morning light peeking through the flowing white curtains. My room feels so alive on lazySaturday mornings. That's the good thing about working in a pool hall — you don't need to go in until eleven am. And we've somehow managed to 'train' Liam to get up later than the typical four-year-old. We let him stay up a little later and encourage him to read in bed in the morning before waking Mommy and Daddy.
Reeves’s arm wraps around me, his body heat warming me beneath the plush covers. I stare at the old rustic fireplace, and I remember the many romantic nights we first spent here, when we were newly moved in. How things were different back then, sharing laughter and conversation by the flickering fire, feeling safe and cherished. Those times are few and far between now.
Reeves shifts next to me, pulling me from my reverie, and his body heat brushes lightly against my skin as he moves to settle even closer. His breath dances across my neck, sparking a thrill that reminds me of last night.
Today, however, we return to real life. Liam will get up any second now, and the monotony of life will settle back in quickly. Off to work Reeves will go, and I will join him as soon as our babysitter next door shows up after dinner, all smiles as usual.
Liam loves her, and I know he secretly loves it when we both work, so he can spend time with Jessica. We both typically work the Saturday night shift since it's the busiest night of the week.
I'm still not quite ready to get up, too comfortable in Reeves’s arms. I stare up at the sparkly chandelier overhead, and I think of Caine again. I know it's stupid. I know I'll probably never see him again. I shake my head, dislodging those silly thoughts out of my stupid, bored little brain.
For now, I am here with Reeves, my gorgeous beast of a man, my anchor in this chaotic world, my soul mate, my best friend, my king.
The pool hall hums with life. Classic rock blares from the speakers, mingling with laughter and clanking balls. It’s a busy Saturday night, and I dart between tables, balancing trays of drinks and making sure everyone’s happy. Liza’s at the bar, pouring shots and flashing her bright smile at customers. Reeves is in his element, talking to regulars and keeping an eye on things.
I love the energy of nights like this, but they also drain me. My mind drifts to Liam, but I know he's safe with Jessica. At sixteen, she’s more responsible than most adults I know.
As I head back to the bar for another round of orders, my heart stops beating when I see Caine Hall walk in. He’s looking even more gorgeous than I remember. I almost drop my tray.
It’s him. In all his beauty and glory.
"Liza!" I hiss, rushing over to her. "Look who just walked in."
Her eyes widen as she follows my gaze. "Oh my God, it’s him! He’s even hotter than last time."
We giggle like junior high girls, ogling him from behind the bar. We know we're both being pathetic, but we don't care.
Caine glides through the crowd, moving like he owns the place. He catches my eye and gives me a small nod. My cheeks burn.
"He’s by himself again," Liza notes.
I keep staring. I can’t help myself. “Yep.”
“Yep… I think we’ve got trouble.”
“Yep… I think you’re right.”
