Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“Great,” she breathes, a pink flush of pleasure on her cheeks highlighted by the flickering candles. “Another contract came in, Jack. It’s a big author this time.”
She tells me the name and I breathe an incredulous sound. “Jesus, angel. That’s huge.” A lump forms in my throat. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m so proud of you, too. The way you are with Gigi…” Her eyes mist and she looks away. “It’s not just a funny story about slaying dragons. You really are my Prince Charming.”
Fuck. My heart is going a million miles in my chest. When she says these things to me, I swear I’m dreaming, but somehow I’ve managed to become the man she deserves.
And being Maisy’s man comes with certain responsibilities.
My wife is more than satisfied when we make love with no one looking, just the two of us. But she’s got that little kink that’s never far from her mind. Making her happy in every way means nurturing it from time to time—and damn, it’s the furthest thing from a hardship.
“You ready for your present?” I ask her, my cock already stiff and aching.
She glances around with wide eyes. “There’s more? This dinner is perfect. More than enough.”
“No. It’s ever enough.” I crook a finger at her. “Come here.”
Maisy rises from the table, sexy as hell in short, red satin, her tits plumped at the low neckline. I pull her down into my lap so she’s straddling me, neither one of us hesitating to get close while the staff bustles around. They’ve been our impromptu audience many times before and are paid well to go about their day.
Occasionally they even stop and watch.
Now, one of the staff members sets up a camera and tripod beside the table, looking through the viewfinder until the camera is angled correctly, as they’ve been instructed.
“What is this?” Maisy asks, her surprise obvious.
I turn her face back to mine. “We’re going to livestream.”
“What?” she breathes, but her breaths are already coming faster, more excited.
“Thousands of people are going to watch you ride me. But they won’t be able to see above our necks.” I slide a hand up beneath her dress, knuckling the dampening material of her panties. Jesus Christ. Always so wet. So ready for me. “Just you in my lap. Milking my dick like a greedy girl.”
The red light goes on over her shoulder, the member of staff melting back into the darkness.
“We’re live, baby,” I whisper, leaning back and unzipping my pants. Sliding up the back of her dress and leaving the satin bunched at her waist. “Give them a show.”
And while it starts as a Valentine’s Day gift for her, it quickly becomes the best present I’ve ever received, Maisy gripping the back of my chair and riding me for broke, her hips a revelation, bouncing one second, grinding hungrily the next.
“They’re wishing they had a shot at high-quality pussy like this,” I growl in her ear. “But they don’t, do they? There’s only one this perfect—and it’s mine. You are mine.”
It’s a challenge not to come in sixty seconds when she’s pumping up and down on me, so tight, so slick, so fucking horny, and my fingers digging into the arm of the chair, my muscles straining to hold back my release. Thank God, she finishes fast and hard, head thrown back, wailing for Daddy, and I let go with a yell, filling her tight pussy full of hot seed, continuing to bounce her in my lap until she falls limp and the red light goes out.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Maisy,” I breathe, covering her up once again, brushing my lips up the side of her damp neck. “God, baby, I love you.”
“I love you, too. For accepting every part of me. Encouraging me. Shining a light and celebrating things I might have overlooked. Loving me so fiercely.” She lifts her head, kisses my mouth, both of us still panting. “But I still haven’t given you your gift.”
My laugh is brief. “I promise. You have.”
Lips quirking, she shakes her head. Reaches back and plucks something off the table.
An envelope.
Keeping her on my lap, I open it up…and a black and white sonogram falls out.
“Congratulations,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss me. “You’re having a son.”
Emotion gathers in my throat like yarn being wound and all I can do is stare at her, hoping she can read my mind, read the undying love and wonder on my face.
Which of course she does. Because she’s a miracle.
“I know,” she whispers, laying her head down on my shoulder.
And we don’t move for a very long time, simply existing in each other’s heartbeats.
THE END