I still don’t leave the clubhouse unless I have to. I enjoy it here. I’ve slowly started going down to the bar, but my solitude and sanity is in this small room.
Coen touches his lips to the mound of my pussy, then slowly climbs up my body before I feel the head of his cock pressing against my center. I spread my legs wide, my eyes never leaving his as I wait for him to penetrate me.
He grins, sliding his hand up my thighs and wraps his fingers around the backs of my knees before he pushes my legs back and spreads them even wider.
“Coen,” I breathe.
Slowly, he sinks down inside of me, burying himself to the hilt with a groan. His lips touch mine and I taste the mixture of my release and his uniqueness. “Never get tired of seeing you naked and spread in my bed, baby,” he murmurs as he grinds his pelvis against my sensitive clit. “Never get tired of this cunt either.”
“So vulgar,” I sigh.
He chuckles, not giving a shit about that. Not that he ever has. He’s gritty, rough, vulgar, and absolutely perfect. His hips move, he fucks me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. No, he’s not fucking me this early morning, he’s making love to me and my heart swells with more love than I ever thought possible, every second of the moment.
COYOTE
Gathering her in my arms, I hadn’t intended on fucking her this morning. I was excited to share the news that I have, but seeing her naked, then watching as she spread those perfect thighs for me. I couldn’t fucking help myself.
“Need to talk to you, baby,” I murmur.
She lifts her head, her once sleepy face now bright and awake with two orgasms under her belt for the day. I can’t stop the smile from playing on my lips at the sight of her. She may be nineteen, and I may be thirty-five, but she was made just for me.
“What? Is something wrong?” she asks when I don’t speak right away.
Shaking my head, I lift one of my hands and tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “Nothing at all. Just got the approval for our house. We’re going to have the dream home, baby, right here on club property.”
“What?” she breathes. “Really?” Her voice raises a few octaves and I can’t stop the smile from spreading on my lips.
“Really. The twenty-six-hundred square feet bungalow. You’ll be out away from the clubhouse, but close enough, and you won’t be on the edge of the property. It will be our little haven.”
“I can’t believe it,” she whispers.
“Believe it, baby,” I grunt, lifting my face to touch my mouth to hers. “You ready to go all in, brand, marriage, house, and kids?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she exhales. “I’m ready, baby.”
With a grunt, I roll her over onto her back. “I love you, Gisele. Love you more than anything else in the whole fuckin’ world, baby.”
Her eyes well with tears, but I don’t let them fall. Tilting my head to the side, I crash my mouth to hers and I take her all over again. I fuck her, my woman, my lover, and soon—my wife.
About the Author
As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.
Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.
Hayley’s husband joined the military and they lived in Oregon, where he was stationed with the US Coast Guard. They moved back to California in 2006, where they had two little boys. Recently, the four of them moved out to the Hill Country of Texas, where they adopted a new family member, a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.
Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to the baseball fields for practice, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.
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