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I slippedinto Reina’s changing room. She was riding back to the clubhouse for the reception on the back of my bike, but there was no way in hell she was getting on my bike in that dress. It would fucking rip. Which meant she had to be changing, and she wasnotcoming out of that dress without me taking it off of her.
My pretty little wife gasped, spinning around to face me when I pushed open the door. I shut it back behind me. “Sam, what are you doing?!” she hissed in alarm, her eyes nervously flickering to the door behind me.
"Helping my wife out of her wedding dress.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. I grinned. “You didn’t think you’d be taking that off yourself, did you?”
Her cheeks flushed, though she had to be fucking used to my ways by now. I made a motion for her to give me her back, and she did. I slowly unlaced the back of her dress, my fingers sifting over her soft skin. I was so fucking hard it hurt. I’d been eyeing her in this sexy as fuck dress from the moment she stepped in front of me. I even fucked up my vows because she was so damn distracting.
I lightly nipped at her shoulder before I pushed her dress down, allowing her tits to spill free. I reached around and gripped them in my hands, groaning at the heavy feel of them in my palms. “Sam, we’re in achurch,” she reminded me. But her voice was breathless, giving away how badly she wanted this. And even if her voice hadn’t, her tits certainly fucking did. Her nipples were hard against my palm.
I licked up the skin of her neck, and my naughty little wife tilted her head to the side, giving me more access despite her protest. “Baby girl, if God didn’t intend for me to fuck you inside this building, he wouldn’t have had this fucking dress created.”
She giggled but then sucked in a sharp breath of air when I shoved her forward, making her plant her hands on the desk. I didn’t waste a beat. I shoved her dress the rest of the way down, making it pool at her ankles, and then I twisted her thong in my hand and ripped it right off, making her squeak in alarm.
Then, like the good, dutiful husband I was and forever planned to be, I dropped to my knees behind her, spread her cheeks, and speared her cunt with my tongue.
Her moan was fucking music to my ears. Her legs trembled as I worked her to an orgasm, flicking and swirling my tongue over her clit. She came with a loud cry, and I didn’t even bother trying to keep her quiet. I wanted every fucker to hear her. I wanted them to know I was making my sweet little wife come on my tongue.
I lifted her onto the table and sank inside of her right as she was coming down from her orgasm. I thrust into her three times, and her walls fluttered around me. Her head fell back on her shoulders, those fucking soft curls spilling down her back, the ends touching the desk. “Oh, God!”
I gripped a handful of her hair and yanked her face close to mine. Her eyes snapped open. “Not God, baby girl,” I rasped, my heart hammering in my chest, my breaths coming in hot, quick pants. “We may be in His house, butI’minside of you.Myname is the one you call. Not His.”
“Sam,” she whimpered, her eyes fluttering, but when I yanked on her hair again, she snapped them right back open. I wanted her eyes on mine. I wanted to see everything she was feeling as I made her come around my cock. And I wanted to see how fucking good it felt for her when I filled her pretty pink pussy with my cum.
“That’s a good girl,” I rumbled.
She clung to me, allowing me to send her spiraling into orgasm after orgasm until finally, I came inside of her, coating her walls with my cum.
I kissed her hard and deep, our tongues dancing together. “You ready to head to the clubhouse, Mrs. Drew?” I huffed, already half hard inside of her again. But I knew she wanted to get to her reception. I could fuck her as much as I wanted after the party was over.
She aimed a sleepy smile up at me. “I like the sound of that.” Looked like she might need a nap more than she needed to go to our reception, but I wouldn’t ruin her day by ordering her to sleep.
I pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and that sleepy smile widened, making my dick harden all over again. She sucked in a sharp breath of air at the feel of it swelling inside of her again, her eyes coming much more awake. “And I like the sound of you moaning my name,” I told her, thrusting into her again.
The clubhouse could wait.
My wife, however, fucking couldn’t. And judging by her sweet moans, I knew she wasn’t in any rush to get there either. She wanted to be right here with me with my cock shoved deep inside of her warm, wet body.
Epilogue
Sam
Being married to Reina was bliss. A week after we got married, we signed on our house. We were three minutes from the clubhouse on five acres of land and a two-story home. Reina had fallen in love with this house the moment she looked at it. I paid cash for it from my massive savings. I could have made payments if I wanted, but I hated bills. The less I had, the fucking better.
Reina slowly began to sleep at night until she finally could all the time. But if I left for a run, she was up all night and slept during the day. It was something she’d never get over, and I understood that. I never made her feel bad for it, either. Instead, when I came home, I just made sure to help ease her back into the sleep schedule of sleeping at night again.
For my wife, bad shit happened in the dark. That was where the monsters lurked, and I knew the only reason she could sleep at night when I was home with her was because she knew I was the biggest monster in her life.
But I was the monster that protected her.
And now, three years later, we were proud parents of a little boy and a little girl. We never got a chance to have kids of our own; Reina’s menopause hit completely before we could. But we loved these two little monsters as if they’d come right out of her.
Besides, menopause turned out to be not such a horrible thing. There were no more periods, which meant we could fuck whenever the hell we wanted to. And my wife was insatiable with whatever hormones her doctor had her on.
Ryan, our little boy, was seven years old and slightly autistic. Little things set him off, but otherwise, he had adjusted to our life well, and he was happy. And he and Axle were practically BFFs. Anytime those two got together, they were as thick as thieves.
And they got in trouble like it, too. God knew those two kept me and River on our damn toes.
Houston—God knew what her parents were thinking when they named her that—was five years old and the sweetest fucking angel I’d ever seen. And the goddamn smartest, too.
