by Frankie Love
I chuckle. “Okay, I admit I didn’t see this coming.”
“I did,” she says. “I’ve been thinking of you and this cock for hours.” She opens her mouth and begins to run her tongue over my length. I groan in pleasure as she licks my tip, swirling it with her tongue, then popping me into her mouth in delight. She looks up at me and God, she looks so fucking good like this, kneeling before me, touching my balls, licking them too, getting my cock so rigid and ready it won’t take long to fill her pretty little mouth with my milky come.
She gives the best goddamn head in the world. I run my hands over her wet hair as she goes to town, sucking me off like a fucking champ. “God, that feels so good, baby,” I groan, her mouth wrapped around me so nice and tight.
She pumps me harder, and I’m damn near ready to explode. She pulls me from her mouth, knowingly. “Come on my tits,” she begs me. And I shake my head, loving my filthy wife. She loves to get off, same as me, and so I give her what she asks for.
I pump my cock, shooting ribbons of come right where she wants it, and she massages her tits as she catches it, my creamy seed covering her gorgeous globes. I pull her to stand, needing to touch her sweet pussy with as much desire as she had for my thick shaft.
I run my hands between her legs, her sweet cunt so juicy, all mine. I finger her, opening her up, and then I’m on my knees, spinning her around so she is pressed against the shower tile. I squeeze her ass cheeks, licking her up and down, so nice and good. She moans in pleasure as I finger her pussy, licking her hole, making it goddamn clear she is mine. Mine alone.
“Oh, God,” she moans, begging, “more.”
Her slit drips as the steam fills the bathroom and I stand, my cock raging, so ready, and I slide myself inside her, right where I belong.
“There you go, baby,” I tell her. “Just like that.”
I thrust myself in her sweet hole and she whimpers in ecstasy, her body made for my cock and we both know it. Not a day goes by when I don’t thank God for bringing me such a sweet, tight pussy to devote my life to.
We move as one, in a rhythm we’ve memorized. I press my palms over her hands, holding her tight. We come, the pair of us, as one and I ease out of her nice and slow. She turns around, her back against the tile, and she smiles at me, a hint of a secret in her eyes. The water falls down our backs, and I wrap her in my arms. “What is it?” I ask. “What has you all spun up?”
“I’m pregnant again, Logan. I took a test when you were mowing.”
“Well that explains the horniness,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
“The happiest,” I tell her. “Our dreams are coming true, baby.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “You’re the best human being in the world, you know that, Logan Barton?”
“Not possible, Lucia. There is no one butter than you.”
Epilogue 2
Lucia
Ten years later…
The farmhouse is full. The whole family is here for our end of summer BBQ My brother Matt and his wife Mirabella are here with their daughter Angelina. They’ve just returned from a family trip to Tahiti and have been showing me pictures. I love how Matt’s fortune has given them the opportunity to create so many amazing memories.
And Logan’s children are here too. Kourtney and Kaden with their little girls, Kaitlin and Kara. And Billy and Bailey have their whole B clan. Beatrice, Bax, Barnett, Blaire, Birdie, and baby Betsy.
They had the six babies — not me. After Lauralie and Luke were born, Logan and I didn’t have any more pregnancies. For a few years, it was frustrating — having a house full of kiddos was the one thing I had always dreamed about.
But I learned that dreams change. And I am so grateful for that. Because if mine hadn’t changed, I would have missed out on so much.
Billy, who teaches at the local high school, mentioned a teenage student named Lacey who was in need of a soft place to land for a bit. And I had this feeling that our home was that place. We needed to become foster parents for Lacey to move in, but we did that quickly enough, and soon, she was moving in for her last few years of high school. A few more teenage girls moved in after her, and even though many of them have more than their fair share of struggles, we’ve learned that this big old farm is the perfect place for them to heal.
Our farm has become a bit of a sanctuary. A place for wounds to get better, and hearts to mend. I couldn’t be happier.
Now, Logan picks up Angelina as I lead the family around the back to the barn to show the family the rabbit hutch I built last week.
Chickens and goats and dogs run and cluck and baa around the yard as the grandkids and our kids laugh in delight. Our foster girls smile as they watch the little kids bounce in excitement as they show them the white rabbits. The grill is warming up and we are going to have plenty of hot dogs and hamburgers later when Brittney and Beckett get here.
“They love it,” Logan says, wrapping an arm around me.
“All kids think rabbits are fascinating,” I say.
“Maybe, but you are the one who made that happen.” He kisses me softly on the cheek and we step out of the barn, the sun high in the sky. He takes my hand. “Come on,” he says and I follow. I would follow that man anywhere.
He leads me to our oak tree, and I sit on the wooden seat. Nostalgia presses hard against my heart and tears fill my eyes.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he says.
“They’re happy tears,” I promise. And they are. All of this, this amazing life is full of so much sunshine it doesn’t seem fair.
He pulls the ropes back, propelling me into the air and I laugh, turning my head to catch sight of Logan.
“I love you,” he says.
I laugh. “You just love my biscuit.”
“I do love your biscuit,” he teases, stilling the swing, and moving in front of me. Between my legs. He leans down and kisses me. “Butter love you more.”
The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 10
A Serious Relation-Chip
On Amazon: The Way To A Man’s Heart Series
About the Author
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.
As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.
She also believes in the power of a quickie.
Find Frankie here:
www.frankielove.net
