AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Straightening, I watched where we were joined. “Look at that,” I said, “look at how I stretch you. Look at how well you take every single inch of me.”
“It feels so good,” she gasped. “I’m close.” Sitting up, she gripped my shoulders, her body going impossibly tight around me.
I slammed into her again for good measure, then swept my hand up her chest, pausing at her collarbone before palming her throat. She was so tiny, my hand covered her neck.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“Yes.” She moaned, throwing her head back and meeting me thrust for thrust. I could feel it, the clench. She needed me as badly as I needed her. I was so close, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Look at me,” I growled, my hand still loosely gripping her neck. “Look at your husband while you take my cock.”
The second her eyes met mine, she clamped down on me, spiraling into oblivion and dragging me along with her.
As we came back down, I rested my head on her shoulder, struggling to calm my racing heart. Fucking Hazel was better than hill sprints.
“Remy,” she said, scratching my scalp. “I…”
“I know,” I murmured, picking her up and carrying her to the couch. I dropped to the cushion, holding her in my lap, and threw a blanket around us.
She curled against me, sweaty and panting. I felt like a king. Nothing would top this feeling.
“How was your day?”
“It was kind of shitty. But then I came home and my smoking-hot, practically naked wife greeted me. So it pretty quickly turned into one of the best days of my life.”
She giggled. “It was pretty good for me too. You know,” she nudged me, “you’re pretty bossy.”
I shifted her until she was facing me, taking a moment to appreciate just how beautiful she looked with messy hair and an orgasmic glow. “Listen.” I kissed her collarbone. “I’m happy to take a back seat most of the time. Sit back and let you shine. I’m lucky just to exist in the same timeline as you, never mind marry you.”
Another kiss, this one a little lower, smiling against her skin when her nipples hardened against my chest. “But you need to know one thing.” I straightened. “When your clothes are off, I’m the boss.”
Smiling, she nodded, clearly enjoying this side of me. “I’m the boss of this sweet pussy,” I said, dropping down again and taking one nipple into my mouth.
“Yes you are.” She whimpered.
“And these delicious tits.”
“Mm-hmm.” She moaned.
“Are you okay with that? Being mine?” If I was the kind of guy who overanalyzed things, I probably would have determined that my possessiveness was a result of being cheated on. But that obvious answer didn’t tell the fully story. I wanted Hazel. I needed Hazel. More than I had ever needed anyone in my life.
She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. “Yes,” she breathed against my lips. “I’m all yours. Only yours.”
Chapter30
Remy
Sunday dinner at the Gagnon house was never a quiet, tranquil affair. Nope, it wouldn’t be a Gagnon gathering unless there was a full tackle football game going, endless hugs, a handful of arguments, and the requisite shame session from our mother for not eating enough.
It was a warm, breezy summer afternoon. Mom was busy in the kitchen with Alice, chatting about school, where she worked with Alice, who was the principal.
Mom still wouldn’t accept pay, a major point of contention with both Alice and Henri. But what they failed to understand was that before she’d taken the position, she had barely been able to get out of bed most days.
Going to school every day, where she stayed busy and built relationships with the kids and teachers and the parents, had brought her back to life. She was looking more and more like the woman who’d raised us. Chatty and always in motion. Baking banana bread, volunteering, working, bossing us around and butting into our lives.
Under the table, I squeezed Hazel’s hand. She had survived hundreds of these dinners over the years, always smiling politely when my mom tried to force feed her or interrogate her about her life. She was comfortable here. She’d been a Gagnon since long before we tied the knot.
“Remy, sweetheart,” Mom said, standing beside the table, holding a platter. “You didn’t like the meatloaf?”
