by Erin Havoc
I circle my hips, my orgasm threatening to rip through me. On the tips of my toes, I buck back, pleading, pleading for his cock inside me. Spreading me. Completing me.
“Please, please,” I moan, my head dropping to one side and exposing my neck.
Austin grips the length of my throat between his fingers and, still fingering me, he bucks and drives himself inside my pussy. My knees give out and he holds me against the tree, tightening his grip and quickening his motions. In mere seconds, I’m tumbling off the edge, his pounds into my wetness drawing out the pleasure.
His firm grip makes me so hot. I dig my nails into the bark of a tree, moving and crying for more, and he fucks me fiercely, grunting his bliss as he bites on my shoulder. My husband comes hard inside me, eliciting a new orgasm to crash over me like a wave. Trembling and gasping for air, I have to accept it when he offers to carry me home, my limbs too listless to walk back so soon.
My camera propped up on my belly, I nuzzle into his chest. “Still hungry?”
He kisses the top of my head. “For you? Always.”
EPILOGUE
AUSTIN
TEN YEARS LATER
Pressing a hand to Ed’s chest, I meet his honey-colored eyes in a serious gaze. “You feel him right here, don’t you?”
Ed nods, his orange curls bouncing. He’s taken the hair color of his father, but the curls are completely his mother’s. He’s totally a child of the two of us. With his brows creasing over his nose, he takes a huge breath. “I do. Kind of walking. From one side to the other.”
“That’s it.” I drop my hand to clutch his shoulder. “Keep your eye on him. The most important thing is that you’re always aware of how the two of you feel. When he’s pissed, when he’s anxious... This kind of thing. That’s how you keep your transformations at bay.”
Ed, our eldest, sinks his teeth into his lower lip. “What if I shift mid-class?”
He’s nine, the first of our cubs. His brothers are one year apart each, but the three are going to school. Mixed schools. As in, there are shifters and there are humans, and everyone knows that.
“You won’t. If you keep your emotions in check and remind your fox you’re the brains of the operation, you won’t.”
“But what if I do?” He blows, his eyes widening.
“Then your teacher will know how to react. They’re trained for that. Besides, you’re still in control. It’s not like you lose it to your fox.”
He nods, absentmindedly, his gaze darting to the wall next to us. It’s covered in pictures Vivian has taken throughout the years. There’s one of our wedding, several of the kids. That one time she sneaked out of the house and into the woods to capture my fox.
Ed’s eyes stay there, on the fox. All of my children have given signs of being shifters. Even Millie, our little girl. Raising my hand to Ed’s orange hair, I tousle it, making him smile.
“You’re worrying too much, son.”
He releases a shaky sigh. “I know. I just don’t want to be that one kid who can’t control their animal.”
“And you won’t.” I press my forehead to his. “You’re in control. You’ve always been. And we’ll be with you when the time for shifting comes.”
“Thanks, dad.” He smiles, and I watch his shoulders uncoil.
So I bring him up, guiding him out of the kitchen into the backyard. “Come on. Let’s check on your brothers.”
Out in the grass, Vivian lounges back on a chair, a book in hand, as the other two kids run around in circles. Millie runs from William, her small legs keeping up. Every time I think he’s about to catch her, she feints to one side and runs off. She’s fast for a six-years-old. Edward takes the lead, bouncing down the steps to his mother. The momma’s boy.
Vivian tugs him closer, kissing his forehead. “How was it? Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah,” Ed answers, scooting next to her on the lounge chair.
“And?” She meets my eyes with a smile.
“I think it’ll work out. I have to look out for my brothers too,” Ed says as he lounges back next to my woman.
I pat his leg. “Then you should begin already. Go look after them.”
He catches my meaning and curls his nose before he leaves in a hurry. I take the moment to sit next to Vivian, cradling her to my chest, peppering kisses over her freckles. The years have only made her beauty enhance. I’m surprised there’s no one knocking on our door asking for her secret. Her red hair is bright and smooth, her face as beautiful and unblemished as ever, her eyes sparkling.
And let me not start on her rocking body. My cock twitches just from looking at her curves.
She slaps my chest. “I know what you’re thinking. Be more discreet,” she hisses under her breath, with a naughty smirk.
“You just know it because you’re thinking the same.” I bring a hand to her waist, gripping it hard. It never needs much. Just one simple touch as this one and I am able to smell her arousal. I groan in delight as the addictive smell hits my nostrils.
“Do you think the kids can smell it?” She hushes against my neck, her hand brushing over my chest.
“No. Only after late puberty.” My hand comes up slowly, so I can stroke a thumb down the side of her breast. “But if you want to be sure...”
“Bedroom,” she breathes out, jumping from the chair and striding into the house. I follow, eager, a smile across my face.
“Look out for your brothers, okay?” I call out for Ed over my shoulder.
“You bet, dad!”
And when I reach the bedroom, Vivian’s already half-naked, fumbling with her clothes so she can get rid of them. My lips find hers, and we drop on the bed with hunger. Infinite hunger. Love fills me, and it overflows with how much I never want to be apart from this woman. I taste her and adore her, praise her, and I never tire of her.
Because that’s how a mating bond works. Once it settles, it’s forever. She’s mine, and I’m hers. Meant to be. And nothing in nature can break us apart.
Nothing ever will.
THE END
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Copyright© 2020 Erin Havoc
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All characters depicted are 18 years old or older. For adults only.
