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“That’s it, honey,” Grady murmured into the hollow beneath my ear, his lips brushing my skin as he spoke. “Come all over your husband’s cock like the good girl you are.”

I whimpered, thighs shaking. The next thing I knew, Grady twisted until I was the one beneath him. My skirts flared around me in a cloud of white as he plowed into me. When I brought my hand up to touch him, he interlaced our fingers together, kissing my knuckles.

Then Grady covered me with his big, heavy body and pressed his mouth to mine. I shattered, whining against his lips. He gave a few more sloppy thrusts as my pussy clenched around his cock. With one final stroke, he pushed deep, throbbing.

After a moment, Grady broke away, brushing feather-light kisses on my cheeks, nose, and forehead. I panted, clutching his hips to prevent him from pulling out. I felt so gloriously full when he was inside me.

Breathing hard, Grady propped his hands on the bed, bracketing my head as he gazed down at me. That same steely-eyed look came over him. Possessive. Protective. Lust-filled. Even though he was still buried inside me, it seemed like he wanted to devour me all over again.

“Welcome to the family, Mrs. McCall,” he said. “You’re going to make one hell of a rancher’s wife.”

I beamed and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a kiss.

“And you are going to make one hell of a florist’s husband.”