by V Vee
That kiss.
It completely undid me.
Though she’d just sucked my brain through the head of my fucking, aching, “nine-inch monster”—as she used to call it—it was that kiss that caused me to reach down, ball her tank top in my fist, and drag her up my body. She willingly clambered onto my lap, straddling it. Even though I’d just come hard enough to forget my own goddamn name, my dick thumped.
I couldn’t blame it. Parker’s shorts may have separated us, but the heat of her penetrated the cotton. Tipping my head back, I tunneled my fingers through her hair once more. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see those strands released and draped over her shoulders and chest, playing hide-and-seek with those beautiful breasts of hers which had grown bigger thanks to being pregnant with our daughters. Stuck to her sweat-dampened skin. I needed to wrap the heavy weight of it around my fist and wrist, drag her head back, expose that slender throat to my teeth as I fucked her from behind.
“Kiss me,” I rasped. “Give me what my dick just had.”
I’m so starved to feel Parker’s mouth on my own, my gut clenched, going concave. Fuck it, honestly? I was ready to beg. Parker lowered her head, putting her lips on me. But not on my mouth. On my chin. My jaw. My temple. She brushed a caress over the scar at the edge of my jaw and my right ear, that I was so sure she hadn’t noticed. My heart pounded at the tenderness, the affection that resided in the light touches.
My eyelids received the same gentle, but sensual, treatment and I held my breath—literally held my goddamn breath like some smitten teenager—when those lips hovered above mine. And when that first sweet rub of her mouth to mine came, a shudder rippled through my body, like a fucking earthquake, and as unmanning, as revealing as it was, I remained still, aching for another. She’d never kissed me like that before; and if she had, I don’t think I’d ever been broken enough, desperate for her touch, so starved for the refreshing drink of her mouth to recall it. To need it. To absorb it.
It was the kind of kiss that said, I love you in spite of everything. I want all of you.
I forgive you.
With a growl that generated from the swirling and ever-tightening knot in my chest, I jerked her head down. Desperate to banish the guilt that threatened to eat me from the inside out, to expel the anger at her that taunted me with the possibility of ruining our reunion, I opened my mouth under hers and drove my tongue between her lips.
Hard.
My growl rumbled into a groan at my first hit of her sweet, sultry taste. Just as always it was addictive, and though I was licking the roof of her mouth and curling my tongue around hers at that very moment, I was already hurting for the next time, the next high. She met me, thrust for thrust, suck for suck, lap for lap, and nip for nip—giving as good as I was dishing out. And all with a sexy little whimper that I swallowed and took as my reward for returning to her. For accepting the girls without a blink.
For still loving and wanting her.
Fingers tangled in my hair, her lips parted wider, and she tilted her head to the side, deepening this mouth-fucking innocuously labeled a “kiss”. Because we were definitely fucking. Screwing. Getting wet, nasty, wild. Tongues glided, coiled, and danced. Teeth clacked. Lips slid and mated. And below… Below, Parker rubbed that hot, no-doubt soaked sex over my thickening cock.
Dropping both hands to her ass, I cupped the firm, rounded flesh and urged her on, helping her find a rhythm that had me gritting my teeth and rolling my hips to meet every downward stroke. I didn’t give a damn that the cotton was chafing my dick. The ball-tightening pleasure rendered that small detail incidental.
“Touch me,” she whispered against my mouth on the tail end of a moan. “Please.”
I couldn’t resist her request or the ache throbbing in it. Quickly pushing down her shorts, I slipped one hand inside the thin material and glided it over her silken flesh. No way in hell could I resist not squeezing her pretty ass before sliding down until my fingertips teased the entrance to her sex. I circled the hole, eliciting a gasp from the woman twisting and bucking on my thighs. That soft, hungry sound quivered between us, and it goaded me on. I dipped my other hand between the front of her shorts and lower belly, not stopping until I brushed her sweet little clit. She jerked as if electrocuted, her back arching so hard she resembled a tightly drawn bow.
Her fingernails dented my shoulders through my T-shirt, and I grunted at the slight sting. Savored it. Hoped when I looked in the mirror tomorrow, there were marks decorating my skin.
Not enough. Not enough.
The words chanted through my head, gaining volume and speed until it was an erotic drumbeat against my skull. I surrendered to that call without putting up any fight. I removed my hands from her, and her disappointed, frustrated whimper ended on a shocked note as I wrenched her from my lap and swiftly switch positions with her. Settling her in the corner of the couch, I knelt on the floor and yanked her shorts and panties down and off. She released a strangled cry and tried to close her legs, tried to hide her hairy, naked sex from me. Tried. Because I didn’t allow it.
I palmed the insides of her thighs, pushed them apart, widened them so I had an unhindered, front-seat view to the prettiest, lushest, most perfect pussy I’d ever seen. Maybe because the dark curls and petal soft, swollen folds were drenched with evidence of the desire I’d stirred in her. Maybe because her clit was engorged and pulsing, peeking out from between her lips. Maybe because it was Parker. But the sight of her bare mound waiting for me, wet and clenching was the most beautiful piece of art I’d ever seen in my life.
Bending my head, I trailed my lips up her leg, nuzzled the crease where the limb and torso connected. Inhaling, I dragged her heady, delicious scent into my lungs. Growling, I dove in and lost myself. Long licks up her slit. Thirsty pulls at the swollen nub. Hard, insistent sucks at the folds several shades darker than her skin. Plunging thrusts of my tongue in her sex.
Fucking hell. How did she taste different and yet so much better than I remembered?
Tilting her hips up and back, I angled my head and buried my tongue inside her.
So good. So goddamn, fucking good.
I couldn’t get enough. I was a fucking animal. A ravenous, insatiable animal who couldn’t help but eat, feed, devour on my favorite meal of all time.
Parker.
Parker’s juices.
Parker’s quim.
Parker’s slit.
Parker’s clit.
I was a fucking addict and I didn’t ever want to be cured.
Her nails scraped over my scalp, scored my shoulders. She undulated and writhed beneath my mouth—trying to get closer or escape me, shit, I didn’t know. But when her soft, choking screams fill my ears, and she started to grind her flesh against my mouth, I got closer.
“Logan, oh God, please. Please. Harder. More,” she begged in a hoarse, almost broken voice. Definitely getting closer.
Lifting my head, I pinned her in place with a glare and a harsh question. One I desperately needed an answer to.
“Whose is this?” I asked.
She swallowed but didn’t answer.
I pushed harder, leaning down and licking her lips.
“Whose. Is. This?”
“Y-yours,” she cried out, covering her mouth with her hands.
Taking what belonged to me, I drove two fingers deep inside of her. And damn near howled at the immediate vise-grip of her slick, smooth, muscular walls. My cock, fully recovered and stiff against my lower stomach, pounded in jealousy. It wanted in that snug, hot embrace. Yeah, couldn’t blame the beast. Lowering my head, I trailed the tip of my tongue along the path at the back of her pussy, following the smooth patch to the puckered hole hidden between her ass. She stiffened, displaying the first signs of uncertainty since I put my mouth on her. Of course, that didn’t stop me from tracing the back entrance, from dipping just inside the tight pucker of her ass.
“Logan,” she objected, pushing at my head, and I lifted my mouth as
she wished, but replaced it with my finger. Not entering but tapping it, delicately circling it. Teasing her with the knowledge that I wanted in that forbidden tight channel no one had breached.
Rearing up, I latched onto her clit, flicked and stabbed the flesh with the stiffened point of my tongue. Abandoning her ass—for now—I shifted my touch back to her sex and drove inside. Finger-fucked her.
Goddamn. I could do that all night. Screw that. Forever. Just as I always planned.
I would simply set up camp and establish a frontier town right there between my woman’s thick thighs. But her steady stream of cries, which she tried to muffle with her hands and a pillow from the couch, her desperate clutching of my head and frantic thrusts of her hips telegraphed she was close and wasn’t going to last. And no matter what I wanted; Parker came first.
She always did.
Besides, I longed to feel that bruising, orgasmic grip again. It had been years and I couldn’t wait any longer. Wanted to hear that keening wail, even if she had to cover it because our daughters slept somewhere in the house. I was hungry to once again witness the flush and swell of her folds while in the middle of her release.
I captured her clit between my lips, grazed it with my teeth. Lightly bit it. Just hard enough to inflict the edge of pain while my fingertips pressed against and massaged that place high up in her core that would set her off like a bomb. It did. She detonated. And it was beautiful.
She was beautiful.
I didn’t let up on her, ensuring she received every last shudder and shake. Only then did I reluctantly straighten, knowing if I surrendered to the urge to continue licking and sucking it might have been too much for her sensitive flesh. The thought of her discomfort is the one thing that could curb the lust ripping at me. Standing, I stared down at her. Half-naked, legs sprawled wide, chest rising and falling on deep, loud breaths… Hair tousled and tangled around her shoulders, neck, and face… Eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep on the couch, lashes a dark fringe…
For years, I’d imagined that very moment. How she’d looked after having my face between her legs again. How I’d feel, watching her, her taste in my mouth, on my tongue. Nothing my mind conjured had compared with reality. The fantasies and daydreams I’d engaged in over the years without her paled in comparison to having the real thing there in front of me.
I didn’t care if I had to weaken Parker’s defenses with my lips, tongue, fingers, and cock in order to get her to let me back in her and the girls’ lives. I would do whatever I had to in order to make sure my family was right by my side when I left Arlington. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck let me know that trouble was coming, and I’d be damned if I left them here while I went to handle it.
Parker was just going to have to get used to passing out on the couch after I ate her to orgasm night after night, until she finally agreed to be mine again.
And then she’d have to get used to it because she belonged to me and that pussy was mine.
Chapter Seven
Logan, Parker & The Little German
Parker Leon
2019
I woke up at four o’clock the next morning as I always did, to check on the girls and to make a cup of coffee. I felt a little bad that I’d all but forgotten my duties as a mother the night before in my quest to suck off Logan and to feel his facial hair rubbing against the inside of my thighs. While it was definitely a step in the right direction for our “re-relationship” it still chafed at me that I hadn’t gone to check on the girls once the entire night. Though they hadn’t made a peep once. Not even with all the screaming Logan had me doing once we’d gone into my bedroom.
My face grew hot as I remembered all of the wicked things he’d done to my body before and after we’d fallen asleep.
Mmm. It was still as good as it always was. Better, honestly.
Lifting his arm from around my waist I tried to wiggle out from beneath his tight grasp. The entire night Logan had held me tightly in his arms, preventing me from laying too far away from him. As if he were refusing to let anything come between us again. I had never felt as safe as I had while laying with him, and if I didn’t love my children as much as I did, there was nothing that would have made me get out of bed and away from my sexy man.
My sexy man?
Oh, who was I kidding? Logan was mine and I was his. There was no sense in even fighting it any longer.
“Where you going?” Logan’s voice was rough and sleep-filled behind me, and I turned with a soft smile pulling my lips up. Leaning down I placed a gentle, loving kiss on his mouth.
“I’m just going to go and check on the girls. Go back to sleep,” I told him.
Logan shook his head, his blond hair sliding against the pale pink fabric of my pillowcases. “Nope. I told you, you’re mine. We’re together now. And those are my daughters as well.” He sat up and pulled me close to him, sinking his fingers into my sleep-tousled hair.
Damn. Forgot to put on my silk bonnet last night.
He kissed me possessively for a long minute. So long in fact, that when he lifted his head after, I felt slightly dazed and almost forgot what I’d intended to get up to do. As a matter of fact, going back to bed sounded like a great idea.
Logan wagged his finger at me as if he knew my thoughts and shook his head with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “No ma’am. We have to go and take care of our children, then you and I can come back and play President and Intern,” he waggled his eyebrows at me, causing me to giggle, something I hadn’t done in years.
“Who’s the intern?” I asked as I copied his movements and got out of bed to get dressed in comfortable clothing.
“I’ll play you for it. We’ll do a bit of 69 action and whomever comes first has to be the intern,” Logan suggested.
I glanced up from tying my shoes and smiled at him. Once I was finished, I rose and walked over to stand in front of him. Wrapping my arms around him, I lifted up on my tiptoes so I could kiss him softly.
“What was that for?” Logan asked with a gentle smile.
I shrugged. “I love that you can be both dirty and considerate at the same time.”
Logan nodded as if he understood exactly what I was still unable to say. “I love you too.”
My breath caught in my throat, and when Logan held out his massive hand, I took it without another thought.
We walked to the bedroom Noelle and Holly shared, looking down into their beautiful faces, before we turned and hand-in-hand we walked into my living room, calling out for Khal Drogo©, the name Logan had given to his new puppy. I started to grow worried when the little fluffball didn’t appear until I heard his paws scratching at the door… to the front door.
Frowning, I walked over to open the door. Khal Drogo was trembling, and without thinking I dropped down to my knees, wrapping my arms around him, just I would do one of my girls. I was so glad I’d gotten the space heaters for my porch as Rachel had suggested, or who knew what I would have found when I opened the door. It had been less than 30 degrees outside the night before.
How would we have explained that to the girls?
“Khal? How’d you wind up outside?” Logan asked the dog, handing me a blanket. “You didn’t let him out before we went to bed last night, did you?” he questioned me, not necessarily looking at me suspiciously, but confusion and amazement definitely darkening his gaze.
“No, of course not,” I said. “Besides, when would I have had time? You barely let me out of your arms long enough to go to the bathroom.”
Logan smirked, before his face cleared and he studied the area outside of my front door with a look of intent and dangerous contemplation.
Deciding I would leave him to his thoughts, I lifted the trembling dog in my arms, and walked him over the fireplace, laying him back down in the bright pink dog bed the girls had insisted he needed. I was just about to turn away when I noticed a framed picture on my mantle that didn’t belong.
Lifting it I frowned at the image. It
was of Logan and the girls. From the night of the fire, and there was her climbing out of her car. Who’d taken the picture? And why the fuck would they think I would want a souvenir of that night?
My hand trembled the moment I saw the small piece of paper protruding from the back. I was distantly aware of Logan walking up behind me, the back of my body became overly sensitive as his heat began to meld with the warmth already spreading through my body, but I had to ignore him for the moment. There were more important things to focus on.
Instead, I opened the back of the frame and lifted out the small sheet of paper, noting the photo paper the picture of her, Logan, and the girls had been printed on. It looked… familiar. It almost looked as if it had come from the copy machine at her school.
That was something I’d have to worry about later. At that moment my attention had to be on the letter left for me. In my home. When I was sleeping. With my daughters down the hall. By someone I didn’t know obviously because they’d left Khal Drogo out on the porch and that was something no one who truly knew me would do.
Good evening Principal Parker (or is it morning when you’re reading this, I wonder? You and the Marine seemed to be quite busy when I came by to visit):
My associates and I have a proposition for you. And it’s one I do believe you’ll want to think about and carefully consider before making a decision on.
You see, we know your Marine. The man who is the father of your children. We made his acquaintance in Germany. We were having such a lovely time with him when some friends of his allowed him to leave… all without saying goodbye.
But before he left, your little soldier-boy took something that didn’t belong to him. Something we desperately need back. Something that if it’s not returned would make things very uncomfortable for us. We would love your… assistance in getting it back.