I have the full permission of the author to post this free erotic extract.
I’ve never come alone before. Liam has always come with me.
In fact, I’d just driven past the turnoff for the boutique hotel he’d booked us into for an entire afternoon this same day last year. I smiled at the memory and my heart did a little skip of pleasure.
We’d been about halfway home, the horse trailer light and empty and the car oddly quiet after we’d delivered the twins and their ponies to Standford Equestrian School for Girls. He’d leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Baby, I can’t wait until we get back to the farm. Detour through Little Mickelton so I can get us a room and bury myself deep inside you for a few hours.” His eyes had twinkled naughtily and his large hand had covered mine as I’d held the steering wheel.
Remembering that afternoon sent a shiver of desire snaking up my spine, my nipples tightened beneath my sweater. He’d been so desperate, so urgent. We’d done it up against the door the first time, without even glancing at the exquisite room we’d been given. Fast and furious, we’d raked at each other—shoes and jackets still on, my legs clamped around his hips. He’d pressed a hand over my mouth as I’d orgasmed, my yelp of satisfaction loud and obvious in the deathly quiet hotel. Though he’d done nothing to dampen the sounds of his own long, hard release—calling out my name and groaning loudly into my neck.
I concentrated on the traffic and took the road toward Monmouth and Cardiff. Soon I would be home. My stomach gave a rumble and once again I thought of The Cotswold Hotel.
Along with a pot of tea, Liam had ordered scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. Then as I’d lounged naked on the delicate brocade of the duvet, he’d proceeded to use my stomach as his plate, licking and swirling the cream into my navel, pressing sticky red jam to my skin and finally spreading my thighs and feasting on my pussy like a starving man.
Squirming on the seat of my Range Rover, a fizz of pleasure tugged at my clit. The man was beyond talented when it came to using his mouth on me and I missed him so much when we weren’t together. Today especially. Not just because we could have stopped off for a repeat of those delicious few hours, but also because the two-hundred-mile round-trip and saying farewell to the girls is always easier with Liam’s reassuringly solid presence in the passenger seat.
But today he couldn’t come. No way. He had a commitment to Yoni Commercial that had to be the priority. The girls understood. Of course they did. They always understood their fathers’ responsibilities.
I, however, was struggling.
If only Quinn could have switched around his meeting with Barratts Medical International and accompanied me just this once. But he was asking for two million pounds. Two million was the amount he needed to continue his pioneering research into treating brain tumors with immune suppressants. He’d been working specifically on astrocytoma for three years. The research was in its infancy but still, it was a meeting he had to attend and the meeting just happened to be today.
So now, driving down the M50, I took a swig of my latte and blinked back a tear. I would miss Sophie and Rebecca like I would miss my limbs over the coming few days. It was always the way. Then the hollow would become bearable. I would chat to them on the phone. Hear how their ponies Bramble and Jasper were getting on with their dressage and jumping. How Sophie was coping with the dreaded math and whether or not Rebecca had managed to overcome her obsession with the cafeteria’s hot chocolate.
The first few days were always the worst, then I’d be looking forward to the Christmas break. Counting down the days until our daughters and their beloved ponies were back at the farm, clattering around the yard and filling up the laundry with mud-caked jodhpurs.
Finally I turned onto our tree-lined drive and began the half-mile crunch up the gravel to the farmhouse. The autumn sun was low and the huge oak trees that circled the paddock were like something out of a children’s fairytale—thick ancient branches and long shadows darkening the toadstool-flooded floor.
I parked next to the barn, banged my wellington boots onto the cobbles and unhooked the horse trailer with a well-practiced yank. Drake and Billy came charging over. Tails wagging, tongues lolling, thrilled I’d returned after a day away. I patted their heads, cooed words of welcome and headed across the yard to the main house. Several hens scattered out of my way clucking impatiently, then resumed pecking at the stones in hope of finding seeds left over from their morning feed.
The kitchen’s stable-style door was half open and I let myself in, hurriedly shutting it so the dogs didn’t follow. Liam had no problem with the dogs in the house and neither did I, but their hairs drove Quinn crazy. He couldn’t bear flopping onto the couch and finding Drake’s blond Labrador hairs sticking to his sweater or Billy’s curled terrier hairs clinging to his behind when he stood. “Unhygienic,” he always moaned, rubbing his hands over his lean legs and pert butt.
Dogs and boots safely outside, I lifted Betsy, our fat black cat, from the huge pine table in the center of the kitchen. She knew she wasn’t allowed up there but made a habit of flouting the rules on a daily basis. Flicking on the kettle, I glanced at the clock. The girls would just be going for dinner. They usually had burgers and chips on the first night back, a treat. After that it would be good wholesome food, prepared to keep them at optimum fitness for the grueling routine of schoolwork and acquiring equestrian skills.
Pouring hot water over a raspberry tea bag, I heard heavy footsteps on the flagstone floor behind me. I didn’t turn. Instead I poked at the water, which was rapidly staining a deep pink.
“Hey, baby,” Liam said into my ear. His breath was hot and smelled vaguely of coffee.
I leaned back against his broad chest as he wound his arms around my waist and pulled me close.
“You okay?” he asked, planting a warm, lingering kiss to my temple.
I swallowed. “I guess.” I pressed my hands over forearms coated in thick blond hair and rubbed at the hard cords of muscle and tendon holding me firm. “I hate leaving them.”
“I know you do,” he murmured. “But it’s what they want. It makes them so happy to be living, breathing and learning with Jasper and Bramble.”
My eyes moistened. A lump grew in my throat.
“So don’t be sad.” He slid a hand up my front, over my breasts until he cupped my jawline in his big palm. “Don’t be sad when it makes them so happy.” He turned my head to his and sealed his lips over mine. “They’ll call tomorrow,” he said quietly onto my mouth. “Tell you how fabulous it is and how their ponies are in the field being greeted by their four-legged friends and you’ll relax, you always do.”
“You’re right. I know you are.” I turned within the circle of his embrace and melted into him, thrilled to be in his arms after wanting to be there all day.
He was tall and solid and scooped me against his body as if I were no more than a feather. Being pressed against Liam, having my head tucked beneath his chin, always made me feel safe and secure, as though my life had reached a point where nothing could hurt me?as long as he was there I would always be okay. The constriction in my throat eased and I pulled in his divine, fresh, slightly citrus scent. It was like a breeze coated in surf, as if he’d just rolled in on a wave—alive and vibrant.
“Besides,” he whispered, smoothing my hair back from my face and gently touching his lips to my damp eyelids. “If the girls were here we couldn’t…”
Suddenly he hitched me sideways and upward. I gasped as my feet lifted off the floor and my butt landed on the hard table.
“Couldn’t what?” I asked, locking my hands around his neck.
He reached behind me and shoved a breadboard and a half-eaten loaf farther up the surface. The board scraped, a knife clattered. The thing I loved about Liam was he could switch from strong protector to determined lover in the blink of an eye. Once he had his mind set on making love to me, like he had on the way home last year, nothing—not even an earthquake—could distract him. He became like a man possessed, a man intent on his mission. Oh, and I always enjoyed his missions.
“This. If the twins were here we couldn’t do this.” He curled his hands into the waistband of my pants and yanked them down my thighs. He let out a grunt and shoved my pants completely over my feet, leaving me wearing nothing but my underwear, my sweater and my yellow woolen wellie socks.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t?” I asked with a grin and glanced at my sun-kissed thighs dangling over the edge of the table.
“No.” His voice turned deeper. “And definitely not this.”
Another yank and my knickers hit my knees. The black curls of my pubic hair sprang out and a buzz of excitement whooshed to my clit.
“Gonna have to do something about that,” he said, swiping his hand over my intimate hairs and pulling, just a little. Enough to make me squirm in part pleasure, part discomfort. “Later, with the razor. I’m gonna make you pretty and smooth and then I’m gonna lick you from top to bottom, savoring every tiny bit of you.”
“Mm,” I said on a lusty giggle. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
Kicking off the knickers, I reached for his belt buckle. My fingers fumbled with impatience and my heart pounded in anticipation. Liam was right. If there was one consolation to our daughters going to boarding school it was that my husbands and I could get down and dirty whenever the mood took us. A summer break of muffling our groans and padding the back of the headboard had gotten old. We had lost time to make up. Lots of lost time.
Another tug freed Liam’s leather belt and I yanked at the fly buttons on his jeans. His mouth caught mine in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving in fast and urgent—a wild, frantic, breathless tango of tongues. I tugged his hot, thick cock from his boxers and gripped it in a tight fist. He groaned and pressed his body forward, forcing me to lie back.
As my head hit pine, I dragged my fist up the solid length of his shaft and smoothed my thumb over the broad head. A small drip of moisture sat in the slit and I spread it over and under the ridge, delighting in the texture and warmth and the fact I could get him producing pre-cum so quickly.
“Ah baby, I love your hands on me,” he said, dragging my sweater up so he could suckle my nipple through my thin satin bra. “Always so sweet.”
“Liam,” I gasped, angling my hips upward and wrapping my legs around his body, twining my feet in their fluffy socks together in the small of his back. I was greedy for him, desperate for penetration. Liam’s big cock never failed to fill me, satisfy me, make me thankful for him being alive. “Please, Liam, now,” I begged and positioned the head of his cock at my wet entrance. I rubbed over his engorged veins with my fingertips and tried to stuff him into my pussy, swallow him with my quivering, wet lips. But he held himself just out of reach, just high enough so I couldn’t quite impale myself on him.
“You really want it?” he asked in a voice that sounded as strained and desperate as it did teasing.
“You know I do.” I squirmed, my legs and arms crawling up him and practically lifting myself off the table. “Do your duty. Love, honor and…” I paused, searching out his eyes, then deepened my voice, “and obey.”
He stared down at me, the dense navy of his irises glistening with lust. “I can’t remember any obey, baby, but on this occasion I’ll make an exception.” He sucked in a breath and his nostrils flared. “You ready?”
“Yes, yes, god, yes, now.” I curled my fingers into his biceps. “Please.”
He rammed forward and his cock surged into me, stretching and filling my pussy to the limit. I cried out as air was knocked from my lungs, the sound mingling with his shout of pleasure bouncing around the kitchen.
Full and stretched, I clenched around him. His tongue plundered into my mouth again and he began to pump in and out of me. Our hearts and lips sealed, our bodies as one. I locked my feet in the small of his back and shut my eyes as he transported me to a place where only he and I existed.
His pubic bone rocked against my clit and his thick cock took ownership of my body. I broke the kiss and buried my head in his neck. All I could concentrate on was where we joined so intimately. He upped the pace and increased the intensity. The first wave of an orgasm careened toward me.
“Liam, oh Liam, yes, yes,” I cried into the soft wool of his sweater. “Oh god, don’t stop.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he shunted his hips all the harder. He got up onto the table with me, his weight falling heavier on my chest and his knees nudging the back of my legs.
“Come, baby,” he murmured hotly into my ear. “Come for me, let me feel how much you need me.”
I split apart, greedily clenching and pulsating around his cock as I fisted his sweater. I groaned long and loud and abandoned, not holding anything back, rejoicing in being able to let him hear how fantastic he made me feel.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, and then he too was coming, flooding me with his love and desire. I clamped my pussy around his rigid, pumping cock. Another pleasure-soaked groan erupted from his chest as he pounded in one last time and froze at the hilt.
Our breaths were hard and fast, our hearts beating hard only inches from one another. After a few moments I slid my hands over his broad shoulders and down his back, my soul swelling with love for him. Every time was so special with Liam. Every time was a moment we wouldn’t have had if it hadn’t been for Quinn.
Pulling up, he looked into my eyes. A flush of pink had risen on his cheeks. “I hate seeing you sad,” he said breathlessly. “Was that good distraction therapy?”
“Perfect,” I said, gently smoothing his flopping blond hair over the deeply ridged scars on his skull. I reached up and kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered, trying to steady my breaths.
“I love you too.” He cupped my face in his hands and returned the kiss. Deep and passionate, our lips and tongues confirming the emotions we shared. On and on we kissed until his cock softened inside me and my sweat cooled the surface of my skin. An autumn breeze fluttered into the kitchen, carrying with it an oak leaf that floated onto my forearm. I couldn’t suppress a small shiver.
He broke the kiss, slid from inside me and shifted off the table. “Come on.” He tucked his cock into his boxers and did up his jeans. “Let’s get you dressed.”
I brushed off the leaf and took his offered hand. He supported me as I planted my feet on the floor and picked up my discarded clothing. I glanced at the messy table. It wasn’t the first time it had seen action like that. Thank goodness our nearest neighbors were nearly half a mile away so it didn’t matter if the top half of the door was open.
“When is Quinn due home?” Liam asked, walking to the sink and running his hands under the tap.
“I thought he’d be here by now,” I said, looking at the clock and making no move to put on my pants and knickers.
“What time was his meeting?”
“One and he didn’t think it would last more than three hours.” I shrugged. “He must have called in at the ward and got caught up in something.”
“Yeah, he did dawn-’til-dusk surgery yesterday so there’s bound to be lots of follow-ups today.”
“Mm.” I frowned a little. I didn’t like Quinn’s new surgical hours. Until several weeks ago he’d operated every day but only half days. Okay, his half day could last ten hours if that was how long an operation took, but still, it was a surgeon’s half day. But now he was operating for three long days—ridiculously long days. I was no doctor but it seemed better to have surgical time diluted with clinics and ward rounds. Less intense, less mentally and physically exhausting. I couldn’t understand why theatre management had changed it, something about saving time shifting specialist equipment around, Quinn had muttered angrily when I’d asked.
“Here.” Liam pressed my now heavily infused raspberry tea into my hand. “Sorry, it’s gone a bit cool.”
“It’s fine.” I smiled and took a sip of the rich, fragrant liquid. “I’ll go and freshen up.” Thick moisture seeped between my legs. “Then I need to get the stables cleaned and locked up.”
“Yes, it feels like they’ll soon be coming home once the stables are ready.”
He smiled. “Sure, you do that and I’ll make a start on dinner.” He pulled open the huge fridge and began dropping ingredients onto the counter.
* * * * *
I set about my jobs in the yard with a lighter heart than I’d thought I’d have this evening. Liam was right. The girls did love being at equestrian school and they’d chattered for days about all the things planned for the term as we’d bought and packed their stuff. They’d called friends to check on which colors and styles of head collars had already been taken and to find out the latest trends in winter blanket designs.
I fed the dogs tins of meat and a chunky bone and left them in the spare stable where they slept except on the coldest winter nights, then scattered a scoop of seeds for the hens. Pausing, I watched Betsy leap around in the twilight shadows at the side of the barn. She didn’t have a mouse, she was simply playing with the last of the floating seeds coming down from the paddock. She was five years old now—the girls had gotten her for their third birthday—but she still acted like a kitten when she wasn’t sleeping.
Picking up a long-pronged fork, I dumped it in a squeaky wheelbarrow and headed toward Jasper’s stable. Sophie was incredibly keen on rules and had nailed all sorts of signs onto the wooden wall by Jasper’s door. “No uninvited guests”, one said in bold letters and underneath in smaller writing she’d added, “that means you too Billy!” Others read “Straw on the floor, hay in the net”, “Sugar cubes in moderation”, and “A pony is for life not just for Christmas”.
Stepping in, I clambered up the bank of straw in the far corner and flicked off the tiny camera Liam had installed. Each stable had one and it meant that the girls and I could check on the ponies by flicking on the TV instead of traipsing across the yard. He’d connected it last spring when Jasper had laminitis. He’d looked out of his office window at three in the morning and seen Sophie running barefoot over the yard in her cotton nightdress to check on him. Liam had been horrified that the girls could and would get up in the night and let themselves out of the house. It was one of the few times I’d seen him truly cross with Sophie and she’d sobbed at seeing her gentle, placid father so incensed. But, ever practical, Liam had installed closed-circuit TV along with a high bolt on each door. Now when the girls were worried for any reason in the night they just had to flick on any TV in the farmhouse to channel eighty and they’d see their ponies sleeping or chewing hay. Jasper had never suffered from laminitis again but the cameras had stayed.
I set about mucking out the stable, tossing straw into the wheelbarrow and up the banks around the edge. When the floor was clean and swept, I hung up the empty hay net in the tack room, tipped away the bucket of water and bolted the door. It would stay that way until Jasper returned.
After cleaning Bramble’s stable in the same manner, I dragged two straw bales from the barn and set them on top of each other. Just before the ponies returned I’d share the fresh bedding between the two stables. Make them cozy for the chilly month of December.
Feeling hot, I shrugged off my fleecy sweater and wiped my forearm over my brow. Straightening, I sensed the stable darkening as a long shadow stretched around my feet.
I turned and pressed a hand to my chest, startled by a second presence when I’d been lost in my thoughts.
Standing dead center in the doorway, filling half the space with his broad shoulders was Quinn, silhouetted by the setting sun that shone golden behind him like a full-body halo. He wore an expensive, tailor-made suit. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and his short dark hair was highlighted around his ears and neck by the light. I couldn’t make out his expression.
“You made me jump,” I said. “The dogs didn’t bark.”
“I’m sorry about that.” His voice was deep and drawling—he still had an American twang even after all these years. “They didn’t look up from their bones.”
He stepped through a shard of light dancing with dust motes. I stared up at him as his face came into focus. He looked so brooding, black brows low, mouth set, and my heart somersaulted—I was anxious as to the outcome of his day.
“Well?” I asked. “How did it go?”
He swallowed and the sound was noisy in the quiet stillness.
“Quinn,” I said more firmly. “How did it go?”
In a sudden rush he stepped forward and grabbed me around the waist. Lifted me into the air and spun me a full three-sixty. “I got it. I damn well got the money, Ariane.”
“Oh, wow!” I put my hands on his shoulders and smiled down at his delighted face as he hoisted me higher still. “You did? Really?” I knew how much this meant to him.
“Yeah, really. Two million for the next six months with a potential further two if the research looks promising.” He pressed his lips to mine in a hard, excited kiss. “And it will, I know it will. Initial trials are right on track.” He set my feet on the floor but kept me pulled up against his body.
“I’m thrilled for you, Quinn.” I slid my hands up the smooth lapels of his silver-gray jacket. “I didn’t doubt you’d make a good case for the grant, but two million. It was asking a lot.”
“Yeah, I know, but think how much they’ll make if I can prove that ‘their’ immune suppressants work. They’ll be rolling in it.” He threaded his fingers into my hair and tipped my face to his. “Plus, and more importantly, I really think this is going to save lives.”
I smiled up at him. His black eyes sparkled with triumph. Or so I thought. Because then he bent his head and kissed me—hot, wet and thoroughly. I kissed him back, loving his dark-chocolate flavor and his spiced scent. There was something about the kiss that told me the sparkle in Quinn’s eyes had more to do with lust than pharmacology.
“The girls got to school okay?” he asked, pulling back just far enough to study my face.
“Good.” He was kissing me again, his hands sliding up and down my back, over my butt and thighs, sending tingles of sensation through my clothes and onto my skin. “No more having to be quiet and discreet then,” he said breathlessly as he kissed over my cheek and onto my neck.
“No.” I pushed my hands into his hair, messed it up and offered myself for his kiss. His chin, coated in short evening stubble, scratched my flesh in a wickedly tempting way. “No more having to be quiet, no more having to wait until nighttime and locking the door.” I leaned harder against his body. The steely length of his erection prodded my stomach.
He moaned and squeezed me all the tighter. “Let’s celebrate,” he murmured.
“What, the pledge or the fact we can have sex when and wherever we want to again?”
“Both.” Sneaking his hand up the inside of my t-shirt, he filled his palm with my breast—massaging and kneading, drawing my nipple to a stiff peak through the satin.
I whimpered in delight and shoved at his jacket. Celebratory sex sounded like a great idea. He released me for a split second and the expensive jacket slipped down his arms and landed on the dusty floor with a quiet whump.
Drake ran in, damp nose sniffing our legs as he tangled his big, square body with our knees. He barked a greeting at Quinn.
“Get outta here,” Quinn ordered with a frown.
Drake let out a whine, turned on his heels and galloped out of the stable. He would never have gone if I’d told him to, but like most animals, and people, when Quinn said something it happened.
His hands were on me again, around the waistband of my pants this time. Pushing and shoving them along with my knickers down my thighs. Cool air hit my warm flesh and a sudden rush of blood to my pelvis sent my nerve endings dizzy with desire.
“You taste gorgeous,” he said, tracing the seam of my lips with his tongue. “Like berries or sweets or something.”
“Mm, raspberry tea.” I clung to his crisp white shirt as his fingers delved between my pussy lips. “Oh god, Quinn.” I shuffled my legs to spread them wider within the confines of my pants. “Yes, that’s good.”
He pressed against my swelling clit and my knees turned weak. “Yes, that’s it. Just there.”
He snaked his other hand around my waist and held me as he began wicked little rotations with just the right amount of pressure over my needy nub. Muttering something incoherent even to my own ears, I tilted my hips for more and let him support my body.
He fretted and circled until I was panting and swollen then he whispered, “Turn around. Turn around, Ariane. I want to see your pretty ass.”
He lifted his fingers from me and I quickly did as he asked, my whole body buzzing and my breaths coming quick. Facing the stacked bales of straw, I tipped over, offering my naked rump.
“Ah, the perfect celebration,” he said, smoothing his hands over my trembling flesh.
Clutching a handful of straw, I turned and glanced up at his angular face cast in shadows. His lips were moist from our kisses and slightly parted as he looked down at me, exposed for his eyes and his touch. He slid his fingers into the cleft of my cheeks, over my anus to my pussy entrance. I let out a whimper of impatience. I needed him inside me, touching me. It was a need that was becoming more painful with each passing second that it wasn’t met.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m here.” And with that he pushed two of his wonderfully long, elegant fingers into me high and firm, until his knuckles butted against my lips. I groaned and clenched around him. “You’re so wet for me,” he groaned. “So hot and wet you’re practically dripping.”
“Yes, oh Quinn, I want you, I want your cock inside me, please now.”
He didn’t reply. Instead he began to pump his fingers in and out, curling the tips so he rubbed against my G-spot. It felt so good, so deeply satisfying. But my clit needed attention too, so I dropped my fistful of straw and sent down my own hand to search out release.
“Oh, that’s so damn sexy,” he muttered, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll never get enough of watching you touch yourself.”
I heard the zipper on his pants then his heavy breaths were close by my ear, his chest just touching my back. I carried on masturbating, climbing to orgasm. Writhing on the straw bales, my breasts flattened against fronds that scratched the flesh of my stomach where my top had rumpled upward.
Suddenly the wide head of his cock brushed my entrance.
“Quinn,” I whimpered, naked desire making my voice as thick as treacle. “Please, fuck me.”
He placed his hands on either side of my head and curled his fingers around the bale as though holding it steady.
He forged in, dominant, powerful and possessive.
I cried out in delight and my knees collapsed as he rode to the hilt. Quinn’s cock, long and lean with his thickly rounded mushroom head, always rubbed my G-spot wonderfully from this angle.
“Oh Jeez,” he grunted. “This is where I’ve wanted to be all damn day.”
I couldn’t manage a reply. My whole body was lost to him, lost to the imminent climax his thrusting was building in me.
“Fucking you is the best thing ever, Ariane,” he said then groaned, “I love you, I love you so much.”
“I…I love you too,” I managed, arching my back and neck and fretting my clit harder, faster. “I love you. I love you, Quinn Gilbert.”
Suddenly he pulled out. He lifted from my back and his fingers were all over me, in me, spreading my copious lubricating moisture from my pussy up and over my anus, circling the tight ring of muscle that led to my back entrance.
“Relax,” he said in a voice so taut it could have snapped like an elastic band. “Relax, Ariane.”
I forced my tight band of muscle to ease as the wide head of his cock nudged my anus. When Quinn said “relax” in that guttural voice, I always knew what was coming. I dropped my forehead onto the straw, closed my eyes and let out a groan of part pleasure, part desperation for him to enter me in his favorite place.
My fingers didn’t let up, catching and circling my clit just the way I liked. Aware of Quinn pushing forward, I braced my spine, loosened my sphincter and let him gain access to my darkest hole.
“Ah, fuck, yeah,” he moaned, dropping his head to the base of my neck again. “Fuck, yeah.” He pushed in some more, stretching and filling me. Sharp and tight, rigid and wide, he invaded me in the most primal of ways.
I gasped and claimed the start of a wonderfully intense orgasm that had been simmering hotly in my sex. “Now, Quinn, come with me now,” I moaned into straw that scratched my cheek and poked into my hair. I continued to drag blindly at my clitoris, feeling my pussy weep with moisture.
He forged forward, entering me until his balls hit my lips and my butt was cradled by his loins. A deeply carnal groan vibrated from his chest, rumbling around the darkening stable and into my body.
My head snapped up as my whole pelvis erupted. I cried out in ecstasy and soared through an orgasm so wild it had my toes curling in my boots and my scalp tingling. Everywhere else in between was pulsating, flying, throbbing as if it would never stop.
Quinn’s body heat left my back. He stood tall, wrapped his hands around my hips and dragged me harder onto his cock, impaling me.
“Jeez, like that, oh, fuck.”
Then he was pumping inside me, his cock spurting as he rode through his own climax. I carried on working my clit, drawing out the pleasure of having him claim my body in such carnal possession.
Orgasm retreating, I pulled my hand from between my legs and dropped my cheek onto the prickly bale. My heated breaths were hard and collected in a mist in front of my face. My heart pounded loud and wild as it rang through my ears.
“Oh, that was so damn good,” he panted, easing his cock from me. “You okay?” He bent to kiss the exposed, damp hollow of my back.
“Never better.” My tight hole felt scorched and satisfied. My clit was still humming with sensation.
“Great way to celebrate,” he said, lifting me gently to face him.
I allowed him to move my weak body into his arms and draped my hands around his neck. His softening cock pressed against my stomach and I was aware once more of the cool air around my butt cheeks.
“Yeah,” I said breathlessly. “Perfect way to celebrate.”
Now I felt truly satisfied. Fucking both my husbands within a few hours of each other always gave me a lovely, hazy glow. All going for it together was the perfect way to reach postcoital bliss but this was good too. Really good.
He kissed me softly as he pulled up my pants and smoothed down my t-shirt.
I broke the kiss, reached down and tucked his cock into his suit pants. He leaned back and watched my hands on him, touching him, caring for him. A sense of pride and possessiveness welled within me. This was the brilliant surgeon who’d just won one of the biggest pharmaceutical grants in the industry and he was all mine. His heart, his body, his gorgeous cock. I bet when he stood in that boardroom this afternoon commanding respect and making important, life-altering decisions, none of the company directors would have guessed he’d come home and celebrate by fucking his wife, who he shared with his best friend, up the ass in a dark, cold stable.
“You hungry?” he asked quietly.
I smiled up at him. “Yes, starving. Liam is making dinner.”
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