Page 72 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

“All fucking afternoon and night, I forced myself to behave, wanting to steal you away, see what you had waiting for me under that dress. The only consolation was knowing at the end of the night, I’d fuck you in these shoes, my diamonds, and nothing else.

No way I could have expected you’d ink yourself for me.

Didn’t think you could get any fucking sexier. I was goddamned wrong.”

“I need you.” She tugs on my hair.

“You get me, baby, when I’ve had my fill.”

My tongue darts over her clit a few times before delving inside her. She bolts up on the bed, her heels digging into my back.

Shit if my wife isn’t responsive. The woman has always been reactive, but pregnancy has heightened her senses. Her hips buck, her little sounds spurring me on.

I hold her thighs apart, feeling them quiver as I devour her.

“Please, please, please, so close…” She squirms against my face.

Another pregnancy perk is Willow comes hard and fast. Her body is accustomed to me worshiping her several times a day.

My dick screams in protest, ready to explode without any contact. I take mercy, sucking her clit and flicking with my tongue until she falls over, holding my head in place as she convulses. I slow my assault but continue run my tongue over her until she collapses back on the bed.

At breakneck speed, I strip out of the rest of my tux, sliding her up to the pillows and hovering over her. She palms my jaw, her face a radiant glow as her legs lock around my waist.

A deep, throaty rumble rattles from my chest when I slide inside her, the contact threatening to undo my restraint. The balls of my piercing brush along her smooth walls, pleasure pulsing through my veins.

“Jesus, baby, you’re fucking tight.”

Her hips swivel, her eyes lighting with desire. She clamps down, her muscles toning so tight my cock pulses in warning.

Two days without her might as well be two years.

“Not going that long without you again.”

“Bonus of pregnancy,” she purrs, thrusting up.

“Taking this slow, Princess.”

The desire in her gaze transforms into a blazing fire. “You can do slow later,” she practically growls, twisting sharply.

I give in to her silent demand, carefully rolling us.

My brain fires off, my mistake immediate.

Seeing her perched astride me, her perfect tits, my mark inked on her ribs, the tiny rounded bump, my cock deep inside her—I’m ready to detonate.

She pivots her hips, her head falling back with a loud moan.

My fingers bite into her thighs, holding her while I drive upward.

Her cries of appreciation fill the room.

Sweat beads on my neck, watching her ride me, taking what she needs.

“Fuck!” I bite out when she moans, shifting to cup my balls.

My fingers move to her clit, grazing over the sensitive skin until she bucks forward, screaming my name.

Her pussy convulses on my cock and I do an ab crunch, gathering her to me, pounding into her.

“Talon!” She lets out another cry, her body arching into mine, her nipples dragging along my chest, as more wetness coats my dick.

I lay her back, kneeling between her thighs. “Can you take it?”

“Yes!” Her nails sink into my arms as she angles, sucking me deeper.

Her eyes open and I’m hit with that blinding vivid jade that awakens the savage need inside.

I thrust harder, faster, each stroke more brutal. She meets my movements, matching my pace. The sound of bodies and the scent of sex fill the air.

“God, yes!” She writhes, another orgasm brewing as I pound into her relentlessly.

The curls of her hair spread across the sheets, her sun-kissed tan, the flush of her skin… All fucking mine.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Her gaze travels up my body, leaving a burn in their wake. “So are you.”

“You ready for me?”

A small smile creeps on her lips. “I’m enjoying the show.” Her finger glides down my arm, across my abs, and down to where we’re connected. “I’m insanely impressed with your control and stamina.”

My cock thickens, and when she scales her fingertip between us, a haze fills my vision.

I grip her hips, holding her down, and hammer into her over and over.

Her pussy squeezes my dick like a vice, clenching with each stroke.

All control is lost, willpower gone.

This woman… my wife… taking me harder than I’ve ever fucked her before.

She thrashes, her pelvis angling, her chest lifting, and her neck stretching.

Mine, mine, mine… the inner beast in me roars, my dick swelling then exploding in a rush. My mouth drops to her throat, my teeth nipping as I pour into her, listening to my name from her lips until she’s hoarse.

Her body quakes, her pulse racing as she struggles to catch her breath.

I’m careful not to crush her, rolling us to our sides.

“I should probably?—”

“You’re not moving.”

“But I’m leak?—”

“Don’t fucking care.”

She kisses the underside of my jaw, nuzzling into my hold. After a few minutes, her breathing evens out and I arrange the comforter around her, never losing contact.

For hours, I watch her sleep.

Reels of my life weave through my mind.

The nineteen-year-old, stepping on that bus headed to boot camp.

Twelve years later, leading me to a blue bar in Tennessee and finding this woman.

The trainings, deployments, missions, the close calls, and men lost. I sometimes questioned my purpose.

Now I know the answer, and she’s worth every fucking bit of it.