Page 23 of Protective Beast


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I grip her tight and start pumping my hips, fucking her little pussy so hard the desk squeaks across the floor.

She barely makes it a minute before she’s screaming out and coming all over my dick. I cover her mouth with my hand, muffling her cries as I feel her pussy tightening around me.

I give her one last savage thrust and then hold my cock inside her cunt and come hard.

“That’s my girl,” I groan as I empty everything I have into her. “Take it all in your sweet pussy.”

I’m about to pull out, thinking that’s all of it, but then my cock jerks one last time and a little more spills out.

“Can you believe that starting tonight, we’ll be able to do this whenever we want?” she asks after she catches her breath.

I slowly pull out of her. She gasps and shivers when my wet cock leaves her cunt.

“You won’t get any sleep,” I warn her with a raised eyebrow.

She giggles. “Sleep is overrated. I’ll take your big dick over a snooze any day.”

“Good,” I say as I lean in to kiss her. “Because you’re going to get it. A lot.”

She smiles right before I kiss her lips and we both moan, knowing that our future is bright. We’re going to be together and that’s all that matters.

She’s all I need. The beauty for my beast.

EPILOGUE

Ali

* * *

Twenty-five years later…

* * *

I jump up and scream in joy as Martinez catches a rocket of a pass in the end zone. The whole crowd explodes with cheers all around me.

Elijah is running along the sidelines and pumping his fist as the boys celebrate in the end zone. My eyes never leave him. After all of these years, it’s still so hard to look away from my man.

He raises his hand and gives each of the players a high-five as they run back to our sideline, congratulating each of them.

Elijah became the Jacksland High School football coach eleven years ago and he’s amazing at it. The students adore him, the parents love him, and the community really appreciates the four state championships he’s brought home. If they win this game today, it will be number five.

My man has become a local celebrity. No one ever lets me pay for coffee and we’re always getting our restaurant bills picked up by community members whenever we go out. It’s crazy. This town is obsessed with him.

But of course, they are. I’m obsessed with him too.

“Are they going for two?” my twelve-year-old daughter Emily asks as the offense runs back onto the field.

“I guess so,” I say as the nerves take over. This is the state championship game and we’re down by one point in the fourth quarter with only six seconds to play.

This is a gutsy call. An extra point field goal would tie it and force overtime, but Elijah is going for the win with a much more aggressive two-point conversion attempt.

There are murmurs of disagreement around me. They shouldn’t doubt my man. He knows what he’s doing.

I can hear his voice in my head now. “You have to play to win. Tying is for last-place teams.”

Emily and I stand up. My pulse is racing as I watch the players line up.

Our firstborn son Corey is on the field. He’s not quite as big as his father yet, but he’s still enormous. He can catch anything and is playing as a tight end.

It’s been three games since he’s caught a touchdown and it’s been a big issue in our house. People say that teenage girls are dramatic, well they should try to live with a football player in a slump.

I can’t breathe as the quarterback walks up to the center. I know how much this means to Elijah.

The quarterback places his hands in position and hollers out a hard count before snapping the ball.

I’m jumping up and down as Corey blocks his man on defense. I know this play. He’s getting the ball!

“Go, Corey!” I shout as he lets his rusher slip by him. He runs out in a slant with his arm up. The quarterback spots him and throws him the ball. It sails into the back right corner…

…right into Corey’s hands.

I scream and jump up and down as the crowd explodes into cheers all around me. Emily and I hug each other so hard that I’m afraid I might crush her.

But my heart really starts pounding when I see Elijah on the sidelines turning and looking up at me.

I race down the bleachers as the team sprints onto the field and celebrates. My son is gone. They’ve swallowed him in a sweaty mess of bodies. I can picture him under there, happier than he’s ever been, and I smile.

“Hey baby,” Elijah calmly says as I reach the bottom of the bleachers.

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