Quaid

“ T his is so… fuuuuck… not like you.” Aslan’s nails scraped against the storage room door as his thighs trembled. He jerked his hips forward, choking me with his cock, and I sputtered and laughed, shoving him in place.

Twice, he threw his head back, making more racket than we needed, even after hours when the bullpen in both homicide and MPU housed barely a skeletal staff.

He cursed again, too loud. Another thump .

I popped off his cock, licking my raw lips with a wicked grin. “Try to keep it down, eh? I don’t want someone to report us. Not on the last day of work, mere days before the birth of our first child.”

“Can’t… help it. You’re making my eyes cross.” Cheeks flushed, Aslan stroked his fingers through my hair, urging me forward, silently demanding I resume sucking him senseless.

I resisted, raking my nails over his bristly thighs as I gnawed my lower lip.

“Don’t make me beg, Quaid. ”

“Can I fuck you?”

Aslan’s brows rode his hairline as he tipped his head to the side, his skeptical smirk highlighted by his rosy cheeks. “Quaid Valor, what has gotten into you today?”

What hadn’t? Everything in my life was aligning better than I ever expected. I was happy and wanted to celebrate.

Humming, I nestled my nose in the crease by Aslan’s groin.

Peering up at my husband and the father of our yet-unborn child, I wasn’t sure I could explain the full feeling of love and contentment flowing through my veins.

We’d come so far. It didn’t feel real when I thought too hard about all we’d accomplished, and I feared awakening to a life where none of it had happened.

No Aslan. No fairy-tale love. No marriage. No family.

I pressed my cheek against his warm thigh, sighing. “Bryn’s due any day, Az.” It explained nothing and everything.

He understood—Aslan always understood—and brushed his fingers over my cheek, cupping my jaw. “Any day. Are you ready for your life to change?”

“More than ready, but you know our sex life is going to take a serious hit, too.”

“It might.”

“It will. Every book I’ve read says so.”

He didn’t quite roll his eyes, but it was close. He thought I’d gone overboard with my excessive research. “If it does, we’ll work it out. I’m not worried. Having a baby is more important. We’ll find our moments. Trust me.”

I clasped his other hand, our fingers automatically weaving together, connecting us, anchoring us to one another. I believed him. I trusted him. We’d conquered many battles, and we would take on many more as a team. As a family .

With a gentle tug, Aslan urged me to my feet.

Our mouths fused, drawn together like magnets.

The race slowed, and I savored the connection.

His heat and scent surrounded me, soothed me, and called to me on a cellular level I no longer questioned.

We were made for each other. Aslan was my person.

My soulmate. The fear of losing him to someone else had vanished with our marriage vows.

He owned me heart and soul, and I knew with absolute certainty that he would follow me to the ends of the earth as I would follow him.

As our tongues danced their familiar dance, Aslan tugged my belt loose, opened my pants, and found my erection straining the fabric of my boxer briefs. He stroked a few times, lazily pulling whimpers and moans from my throat.

“Are you going to let me?” I could barely talk, barely think in a straight line. All I knew for certain was that I wanted him.

“You were serious?”

“Yes. I want to fuck you. Right here and now.”

“In the supply closet?” I felt his smile against my mouth.

“Yes.”

We’d never taken it that far. A few minor make-out sessions, hand jobs, and blow jobs were our limit—were my limit.

Somewhere along the way, the supply closet had become our rendezvous spot at work.

It went against all my moral and ethical beliefs about public sex, and yet we found ourselves stealing random moments far too frequently when our busy jobs clashed and infringed upon our private time. All it took was a simple text.

“We don’t have lube.” Aslan’s scruff bit deliciously into my chin, his fingers dancing gloriously over my balls, rubbing, tugging, and massaging. My blood ran hot and thick through my veins.

“Don’t need it. ”

He chuckled, pulling back. “I’m not you, Quaid. I’m a whiny bitch with no lube, and you know it. I need the sauce, or I might cry, and that would be a hit to my ego I don’t deserve on the last day of work.”

My smug smirk earned a pinch to the goods, making me squeak. “Ow, you bastard.”

“Don’t be a shit.”

“Fine.” I nipped his lower lip, catching it between my teeth and biting until he hissed. “Take me instead.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Do I have to spell it out?”

Aslan tongued his wounded lip, shaking his head as he shucked my underwear.

Humor danced in his dark brown eyes. I could tell part of him wanted to question the lewd suggestion, but the more sensible part of him didn’t want to push his luck.

Aslan had a mild kink for public sex, and it had taken him years to bring me on board.

Even now, I resisted most of his attempts. I was not a man made for risks.

With my pants pooled around my ankles, Aslan effortlessly spun me and pressed me against the door, plastering his front against my back.

He ground his erection along my crack, whispering, “You drive me insane, hot stuff. There isn’t a single day that passes when I don’t thank god I got over my fear of dating and asked you out. ”

As he licked a path up the side of my neck to my ear, I reveled in the way his hot mouth made my skin buzz and stomach flutter.

It was the same electrifying sensation I experienced the first time Aslan kissed me on a long-ago night in a parking lot after a dreaded team-building day that I enjoyed far more than I admitted at the time.

I hated Aslan then—on principle more than anything.

The cocky homicide detective had gone out of his way to flirt and make me uncomfortable, but there was no denying how that simple kiss at the end of the day had turned me inside out and brought us here .

Oh, how worried I’d been about my fragile heart and giving it to a known playboy after Jack had so utterly destroyed me. It turned out to be the best decision I ever made.

I spread my legs as much as my trapped feet would allow and rutted against him, encouraging his cock where I wanted it most. “Come on, Az. Make it fast before someone decides they need something in here, and we’re caught.”

His raspy growl sent a shiver down my spine.

I closed my eyes as a saliva-drenched finger circled my entrance and breached me without warning.

Aslan kept prep short and sweet, knowing my preference leaned toward minimal.

The sound of him spitting into his palm was followed by the wet tip of his cock tracing the line of my ass and stopping at my hole.

“Ready?” The hoarse question made my toes curl and my body come alive.

“Always.”

He pressed inside little by little, fighting my body’s resistance, as I relaxed and welcomed him home. I savored the sting, the fullness, the pressure.

We both groaned once he was fully seated. Aslan stilled. His moist, panting breaths brushed my cheek. “This will never get old.”

“I hope not.”

“Never, Quaid. Christ… you feel so fucking good.”

I tipped my head against his shoulder and arched my back, encouraging him to move. Despite telling him to make it fast, Aslan kept the first few thrusts slow and deliberate, ensuring I was truly ready and adding more saliva to ease the glide.

I copied his rhythm as his tongue explored the pulse point in my neck and his fingers snuck under my shirt and over my abdomen.

It wasn’t enough .

“More, Az. I’m good. Fuck me hard and fast… Need it.”

He chuckled at my eagerness, but these clandestine affairs in the closet were risky, and with our final workday ending, I was determined to leave without a stain on my record or a reprimanding phone call from Edwards. It was the last thing I wanted when we were days away from becoming fathers.

Anchoring a hand on my waist, Aslan moved his other to my throat, keeping my head tipped back as he jacked his hips, slamming into me with force and sending bursts of pleasure through my system.

“Like this?” He thrust again, harder, bumping me forward until I knocked into the door.

I couldn’t make words and blubbered incoherently.

Aslan understood my wants and needs like no one ever had.

He read me like a treasured book. He could make my body sing with a brush of his lips or a secret smile.

He knew where I liked to be touched, when to slow, and when to show no mercy.

Aslan knew when I needed tenderness or a reassuring word.

He knew when to joke and when to hold me so I didn’t shatter.

He was my husband, my soulmate, my everything.

The hand on my throat slipped to my mouth as he jarred his hips forward again and again, fucking me how I wanted. I whimpered against his palm, nodding and bracing myself against the door.

Yes, like that , I said without words.

Aslan knew my tendency to be vocal when brought beyond my senses. Ordinarily, he loved to hear my shouts of pleasure and encouraged me to spit dirty words and scream until my voice cracked. Today, in the supply closet, my mouth would get us in trouble.

His intentional thrusts quickened, spreading warmth through my veins and pooling heat in my core.

My insides came alive with the need to come.

The burning desire bloomed outward from my center and bled pleasure across my sensitive skin.

I whimpered something incoherent against his palm.

Aslan understood, moving his hand from my hip to my cock, jerking me in time with his pace.