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Me? I was happy to be along for the ride.
But I needed to stock up.
Kids may have been in my long-term plans, but definitely not the short-term ones.
So while she was at the post office, boxing up all her orders, I took off down the street to pick up some things.
I was hoping to bring her back to the clubhouse in the near future. But until then, I grabbed a couple of things to keep at her place when I was staying over.
After the post office, we went to a nearby national park where she spent a solid twenty-five minutes taking about three-thousand pictures of the crow earrings just so she could choose a handful of pictures to post for sale on her social media.
“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Baby, just enjoying the view,” I told her, watching as her cheeks went a little pink before she turned away.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Not my fault you’re nice to look at,” I said.
She was, too.
After all the work shit was handled and back in the SUV, we took a walk through the trails of the carefully manicured park, stopping to look at the koi swimming around in their pond, looking at a collection of bonsai trees in a greenhouse.
I didn’t look at a damn thing.
My eyes were on her the whole time.
Watching her look at shit.
It was a hell of a view.
“I said stop,” she hissed as we took back to the trails, her taking a stone staircase upward, giving me a great look at her ass. Because the woman never wore pants.
“Have I mentioned that I am really enjoying your preference for wearing skirts?” I asked.
“Not in the past five minutes,” she shot back.
“Well,” I said, reaching up, grabbing her, and yanking her down to my step with me, letting my hands roam up the backs of her thighs, then closing over her ass, “I love your preference for wearing skirts,” I said. “Gives me all sorts of access.”
“Someone could see,” she hissed, looking around frantically, despite the fact that we hadn’t seen anyone since we got to the park.
“Mmhmm,” I agreed as my lips went to her neck and my fingers slipped inside her panties.
“I’m starting to think you have an outdoor sex kink,” she said, her voice already getting breathless as I stroked up her cleft.
She was already getting wet for me.
She could never get enough.
Neither could I.
“Think I just have a fucking you whenever and wherever I can kink,” I corrected as my fingers slipped inside her wet pussy, feeling her walls tighten around me. She always did the same thing to my cock when I slipped inside of her.
Fucking perfect, that was what she was.
“Crow,” she said, the world a half-protest, half-moan.
“Okay. More privacy,” I said, walking her backward until we were off the steps and the main part of the trail, and surrounded by scraggly pine trees—one of the few kinds of tree that seemed to thrive in the area, despite their shallow roots and not nearly enough rain in the area.
As soon as we were in relative privacy, I yanked off her panties, pushing her back against a tree, and working her with my fingers as my lips claimed hers, quickly wiping away any objections she might have had.
It wasn’t long before her hands were greedy too, yanking at my button and zipper, then reaching inside to free me, wrapping her hand around my cock, and starting to stroke me.
“Want to head back?” I asked as I pulled back to smirk down at her. To that, she gave me small eyes as her hand slid down to give my balls a gentle tug.
We were done with teasing.
I slipped on the condom, then reached down for her leg, yanking it up, then slamming inside her.
As soon as I was, though, as her head fell back on the tree with a moan, as I felt her tight heat surround me, the desperate need for release became something else entirely.
Something deeper, though no less primal.
Morgaine seemed to sense the change too, her gaze going softer as I slid slowly out of her, then just as slowly back in.
Taking our time, that was what we were doing.
Savoring the moment.
Sharing something more than just the desperate need for release.
Though, eventually, that built as well. More slowly, but no less intense.
All of our muscles seemed tense as we got close to that edge. Morgaine’s nails were digging crescents into my shoulders, and mine were likely bruising her ass as I fought the urge to plow into her over and over, to drive us up and over faster.
“Crow, I…” she started, then trailed off on a long moan as her walls spasmed around me, taking me with her as her orgasm overtook her.
To an extent, I guess I’d always sort of believed Sway’s mindset when it came to women: variety is the spice of life.
