Page 80 of Craving Consequences

EVERLY

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TWO YEARS LATER...

Morning breaks the way it always does, with a soft hush and the whisper of stillness I know isn’t going to last. Filmy sunlight spills through gauzy curtains, painting the room a pale gold. It stretches across the tangle of legs woven around me across the mattress.

Two years and they still sleep the exact same way.

Even during the eight months where I was so big and full I could barely see my feet, Van wedged himself into my chest like it was the only home he’s ever known.

Lachlan still cradles my stomach. It’s softer than it used to be.

Slightly lumpy and lined with stretch marks that both swear they love. But it no longer strains or kicks them.

I miss the kicks.

I miss the feel of life growing inside me.

I know both men have been making noises to do it again, and I am so tempted, but I want to enjoy the tiny monster we already have.

The two foot tall demon with my hair and my eyes, and absolutely nothing of her fathers.

But I would like to give her a sibling, or two.

Lachlan stirs against my back. His lips find their favorite spot at the nape of my neck.

“Morning,” he murmurs, somehow always knowing when I’m awake.

I tip my head back on his shoulder and my mouth is immediately claimed.

“Morning,” I reply, smiling up at him.

His brown eyes search mine in the hazy light. “Love you.”

Heart kicking as it does every time, I tilt my face for another kiss.

At my front, Van shifts. His face nuzzles my left breast, nips on my nipple through my t-shirt, sends warm tingles down my spine.

I moan and thread my fingers through his hair. The three interconnecting rings on my finger glint amongst the dark strands as I hold him to my chest.

“Think we have time for a quickie?” Lachlan’s already slipping his hand under the hem of my top.

“Yes,” I plead, my own fingers hooking into the sweats hanging low on Van’s hips .

We do not have time when the high, demanding shriek echoes like a bomb in our solitude. It rattles through the speaker perched on the end table, spiking the red light to the top.

“I’ll get the princess. You take care of the queen,” Van says, lifting his head and kissing me once hard before rolling off the mattress.

Lachlan does not argue as I’m liberated from my top. I’m on him before it hits the floor. I climb his beautiful cock and slide down, taking my pleasure while Van’s quiet murmurs spill from the speaker followed by our daughter’s excited babble.

Lachlan’s groan fills my ears as I take him deep. We may have to be quick, but I relish the weight of his hands on my waist, the rise and buck of his hips meeting my every grind.

“Yes...” I wheeze when he slams up harder. My back arches with the sharp spark of electricity cutting up my body. “Again. Fuck me.”

He does not disappoint.

He pushes up, arms coming up around me, pulling me down full on him. His mouth finds my breasts as he rolls his hips. The depth has my head falling back and my core fisting every inch of his cock. My clit grinds into his pelvis, sending fire pulsing up my spine.

I dig my hands in his hair and hold him captive to my chest as he palms and licks my breasts.

“So good,” I gasp. “You feel so ... God ... don’t stop! ”

His fingers close down on my ass cheeks and he pulls me harder down on him as I whine his name and cum.

I feel him fill me a second later with a snarl of my name.

He stays buried inside me, our chests rising and falling in uneven pants. His lips ghost my shoulder, my collarbone. Making their way up the column of my throat to find my lips.

The kiss is slow and far more intimate than what we just did. It’s poetry and secrets. It’s everything I see in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Love you,” he whispers.

I brush a hand through the wavy strands falling over his eyes. “Love you.”

With a final kiss, we pull apart and find our clothes. He takes my hand as we leave the seclusion of our bed and start the climb down to the kitchen where Van sits across from a sour faced one year old.

“Open,” he’s coaxing, nudging her puckered bottom lip with a plastic spoon piled with oatmeal and brown sugar.

Flora glowers at him as if he’s lost his mind. I almost laugh when she huffs and swats the offering, sending it tumbling out of her father’s hand in an arc of oatmeal.

“Hey now.” Lachlan moves to stand behind his friend. “That was not nice. ”

I leave the two to figure it out as I head for the coffee pot. I fill a mug and prop a hip against the counter to watch the show.

So far, it’s Flora twenty and fathers zero, but it’s always amusing watching them try and feed her the one breakfast she loathes with a passion.

By the end of it, most of the bowl is smeared across the tabletop, the floor ... Flora. She’s wearing ninety percent of it and looking damn proud of herself for it.

“Little turd,” Lachlan grunts as he drags the sticky child free of her highchair and hauls her off for a bath.

“She never does that with anything else,” Van grumbles as he drops the detached table into the sink

I watch him move over the rim of my drink. I watch his muscles flex and bunch as he stoops to run a wet rag over the floor. It never fails to amaze me that even after two years, the very sight of them doing basic things has the power to soak my panties.

“You forgot something,” I tell him as he finishes cleaning up and wipes his hands on a rag.

His silver gaze moves over the room, searching. Not finding it, he turns back to me with a comical expression of confusion.

I set my mug down and move to stand in front of him. I see it in his eyes seconds before my fingers hook into his sweats.

“You forgot to feed me.”

His expression darkens even as he grins down at me. “Mouth or cunt?”

I wrap my fingers around the hard girth of his cock and stroke, never once breaking eye contact.

“Where does Daddy want it?”

In the blink of an eye, I find myself face down across the table. My top is torn and tossed to the floor and his dick is sliding in with a deep, satisfied snarl of, “Fuck, yes...”

But that’s all the gentleness I get before he’s got a hand planted between my shoulder blades and he’s pounding into me like he hates me. The wood is rough against my cheek. It scratches my nipples with every propulsion of his body hitting mine, driving me up onto my toes.

The hand at my back lifts and fists into my hair. It twists up all the strands and drags me back for a deeper angle. The perfect angle that hits my favorite spot.

“Van!”

My wail earns a sharp smack across the ass.

“Try again.”

Breathing hard through the explosion of stars as the assault adds to the fire running wild through me.

“Daddy!”

With a pleased grunt, he pounds harder .

The table rattles but stays firmly in place thanks to the bolts Lachlan drilled into the floor to keep the thing from sliding during moments like this. The items on top aren’t so lucky as the slender vase of wildflowers topples over, sending water and foliage across the surface.

Neither of us care as Van’s hand slips around my hips and down on my mound with a stinging smack that tears a cry from me. Nails claw into the wood as I restrain myself from soothing the burn.

We only recently learned I like that, and Van has been using it to his advantage every chance he gets. I love it.

“Again,” I beg, driving my hips back to meet him as I feel the edge inches away. “Again, Daddy. Harder.”

He does, but he follows it up with a pinch and twist of my clit that sends me howling and flailing. Hips thrashing as I cum on him. Soak him. Grip him so hard he snarls into my ear and shoves deeper.

“Get on your knees and clean your mess,” he hisses once I’m no longer seizing around him.

I have zero feeling in my limbs when I drop to my knees.

My core pulses and leaks, forming a puddle beneath me as I lick every drop of my release off his cock.

As I suck his fat head and watch the hard flex of his jaw.

The fire in his eyes. The way his nostrils flare and his hands clench at his sides .

I smirk as I roll my tongue up and along the slit and he groans.

“Stop teasing,” he warns.

I raise an eyebrow and deliberately press a kiss to the cap. “Make me.”

“Fuck!” His big hands fist into my hair and I’m forced down over him. I’m choked by his cock slamming to the back of my throat, eliciting tears as I struggle to control my gag reflex. “Warned you. Fucking told you not to be a little cock tease.”

I reach under and cup his balls. I squeeze and tug the way he likes and relish in the hard shudder that courses through him.

With my free hand, I reach further between his legs and press into his taint and watch with delirious pleasure as his head falls back and he groans my name.

The vein beneath my tongue pulses with his approaching climax seconds before his hot seed sprays across my tongue and down my throat.

I swallow every drop before pulling back and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

He exhales sharply, chest rising and falling as if he’d run a mile.

“Christ, you’re going to kill me.”

I smirk up at him. “Your own fault. You need to stop being so sexy. ”

Eyes still dark and hungry, he reaches down and pulls me up. I’m lifted into his arms like I still weigh nothing, and I instinctively lock my legs around his hips.

“I would happily die for you,” he says.

I press my forehead to his, heart squeezing. “Not allowed. No dying. I’ll never forgive you.”

His chuckle is warm, brushing across my lips. “Go get ready, my little doe. I’ll pack Princess her snacks.”

With a lingering kiss, he sets me down. We gather our clothes off the floor and drag them on just as Lachlan and Flora return.

There are no signs of oatmeal as I scoop the tiny bundle from Lachlan and press her into my chest. As I breathe in her soft, baby scent and get my heart squeezed when she wraps her chubby arms around my neck.