by Knox, Abby
Rosemary squirmed on the bed, desperate for him to finish her with his mouth. “Ash, please.”
But he didn’t listen. He got up and pulled a small box out of his pocket inside his suit coat. When he returned to the bed, she was up on her elbows, her sweet breasts heaving up and down with her ragged breath. She saw the box with the velvet bow and smiled. His baby girl could not resist a present, even if she was on the edge of going wild with lust for more of his face in her lady bits.
He snuggled in next to her on the bed. “Open it.” He grinned mischievously as she took the box, her eyes dancing like a little kid on Christmas morning. She untied the bow and tossed the lid on the floor, lifted the tissue paper, and pulled out the silk designer scarf that had set him back in the range of $6,000.
“Oh my God, Ash. Thank you!” She went to tie it around her neck, but he abruptly took it away.
“This scarf is a present for me, not you,” he said.
“What do you mean?” She tried to look hurt, but she knew. He could smell the fresh need building inside her.
Ash watched her face as he proceeded to skim over her breasts, teasing out her nipples with the luxurious silk. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she moaned.
“Arms above your head.”
She obeyed.
“Good girl.” He tied her wrists together with the scarf.
“What a life we live, using something that expensive as a sex toy,” she said with a husky little laugh.
He gazed down on her as he knotted the scarf around her wrists. “Damn right, and it was bought and paid for with my own hard-earned cash, and not with one of those platinum cards funded by the father of the bride.”
“Baby, come on already,” she whined.
“And you know what I’m really going to enjoy?” he growled. “Watching you cut up those cards to smithereens later. No man except me is ever going to pay for so much as another pack of gum for my Rosemary Boudreaux.” And with that, he buried his face in her once more.
She caught her breath and said dreamily, “Say my new name again.”
“Rosemary Michelle Boudreaux.”
Even as he said it, he felt her squirt for him.
“Thank you for taking care of everything today,” she breathed. “Everything was perfect.”
“You’re welcome,” he growled between kisses against her sensitive flesh, “and I told everyone who would listen that I’m also gonna get you good and pregnant tonight. And then again and again and again for the rest of your child-bearing life. There are gonna be so many Boudreaux running around New Orleans with so much money that nobody will ever drag my daddy’s name through the mud again.”
Ash left no spot unloved between her thighs, bringing her to an epic crescendo of full-body spasms. He slowed his strokes, anticipating the orgasm to subside. But somehow it kept going.
Holy shit. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it was time to strike if he was going to get his kitty cat pregnant tonight.
Quickly, Ash joined his body to hers, guiding the tip of his cock into her heat. His woman’s sex gripped his length hard and fast as her body continued to jerk, bringing him to the brink of exploding without even having taken her completely. “How are you still…are you okay, baby?”
Chapter Seventeen
Rosemary
She could barely form words, only cries of pleasure.
Her Ash guided himself in deeper until they both felt the point of resistance. She encouraged him with the grip of her thighs. So he went for it. She felt the bit of flesh give way easily, and he was all the way in, her sex still pulsating around him.
She cried out again, her walls gripping him tighter. Her legs were wrapped around his waist as he pushed into her, over and over, her cries taking on an inhuman, unearthly growl. He rode her faster and deeper until he joined her in her extended climax. His eyes locked onto hers and hers to his, committing to memory every pore of his skin, every ripple of muscle as he strained against coming too early. His face was sublime as he came inside her with a massive otherworldly howl that shook her and thrilled her to her core.
She’d barely caught her breath when Ash said, “The wolf needs you to flip over, baby. You ready?” She nodded, her stomach flipping in excitement that he wasn’t finished with her. He untied the scarf long enough for Rosemary to turn over on her stomach, and he slipped the knot firmly around her wrists again. When she heard the silk tighten and felt the slight bite of it against her flesh, she mewled. And felt herself grow impossibly wetter.
“Do what you need to do,” she said. “You earned it.”
Ash gently helped her rise to her knees and entered her once again. Reaching up underneath her, he gripped one of her breasts, caressing and pinching her nipples into hard peaks while she moaned and pushed back against his body.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet, you’re dripping. It’s everywhere. My cum and yours. All over my thighs. Did you know you could do that?”
She nodded and weakly replied, “Uh-huh,” in the affirmative.
Ash chided her, his voice on the flesh of her back sending tingles down her spine. “What other secrets are you hiding from me, princess?”
“None, I swear,” she teased, shooting a grin back at him over her shoulder.
Ash kissed his way down her back, gently dragging his teeth along her skin. “Don’t lie to me,” he said.
“Bite me harder. Please,” she begged.
“Tell me the truth,” he answered.
She sucked in a breath and said it. “I’m ovulating,” she said hoarsely. “I set the wedding date so I’d be not just ovulating but it’s the sixth month. Our cycles are the most powerful after the sixth new moon.”
For some reason, Ash slowed his thrusts. She thought at first she had said something wrong.
Then he let her have it. “My scheming little cat,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She replied, “Would it have made you all that much hornier for the wedding night if you’d known all along that you’d be almost guaranteed to get me pregnant our first time?”
“Fuck yes.”
“I was trying to save you from losing your shit, Ash. Now, will you please bite me some more before I lose mine?”
Ash obliged, with vigor. When Rosemary writhed at the sensation of his teeth and begged for more, he bit harder and longer, sucking to leave the huge love bites that she craved.
She relished the thought of her entire body bearing his marks the next morning. She thrilled at the lifetime of fun days with the wild little brood they would make together, followed by nights of rough yet tender ecstasy.
The beasts inside them had met their match, and the animals wanted it all. The cat wanted everything the wolf would give and more. She had never imagined it would feel this good with anyone, especially anyone so unlike her kind.
Being intimate with Ash felt like falling off a cliff and flying at the same time. It felt as if neither of them was in control of this relationship any longer. They were just vessels for something greater. The seed kept coming, and her sex was drawing it all in with a vengeance.
Exactly what that new life would look like remained to be seen. What this little bean, already forming inside of her, could do was a mystery waiting to be discovered.
Epilogue
Ten Years Later…
Ash
Rosemary is up to her old tricks again.
Dammit.
But I have to admit, I kind of like it.
Ash ran his hands through his hair and gritted his teeth as he read the text from his wife:
You are so busted. I’m issuing a punishment. No more Rosie pie for you for the next five days.
And don’t even think about pleasing the master of your domain by yourself. Mama and Daddy are taking the brood away for the weekend, and I don’t want you wasting any of your good stuff. Save that shit up, because I want another baby.
Okay. A lot was going on in this text.
First, Ash had to r
emember what exactly he had done now to earn himself a spot in pussy jail.
Then he remembered.
Last night he had been texting with his buddy Vann, who was currently sailing Southeast Asia with his wife. Vann had said that GiGi had hinted that maybe she would have liked a bigger wedding. Those two had been married in a small ceremony on the beach, eager to get married quickly before the next travel show assignment. Ash had replied to Vann:
Consider yourself lucky. I could have done without Rosemary’s craziness around our wedding.
He realized then that Vann had shared this comment with GiGi, and GiGi, being a cousin who was more like a sister to Rosemary, had shared this comment with Rosemary.
Sure, Ash would have liked a shorter and less…abstinent…engagement. But the big picture? He regretted nothing. He looked around the family room of their six-bedroom home—with Legos strewn around the Oriental rugs and antique bookshelves filled with Pokémon cards next to first-edition classic tomes—and he couldn’t be happier. Ash Jr, age nine, had come along nine months after the honeymoon and was at this moment outside doing semi-dangerous science experiments.
Ash stepped over some Legos and slid open the glass door of the family room that overlooked the lake. “Junior, you need any help?”
“Wanna light the rocket for me?”
Ash went over and took the matches away from his oldest son.
“The teacher says I shouldn’t mess with fire by myself.”
Ash laughed. “You’re a Boudreaux. You were born knowing how to handle fire.”
Ash Jr. shrugged. “I know, but rules are rules.”
Reflecting on Rosemary’s text, Ash wondered if five days of abstinence was a lot to most married couples. He had no clue. He supposed he should be thankful he was getting nookie on a semi-daily basis.
Ash Sr. looked at his son and saw the sweet, crooked grin of Charlene Boudreaux. How he wished his kids could have known their paternal grandmother. She had been a beauty queen with an even more beautiful heart.
The rocket blasted off, and Ash Jr. cheered maniacally. Ash was grateful his kids at least had Betsy and Lionel, and his own father, Jimmy. Although Lionel was a royal pain in the ass, the old man was good to the kids.
Ash padded back inside the family room and spotted his oldest daughter, Rosie The Sequel (the family nickname for the oldest daughter, who was shaping up to be a replica of her mother), age seven, who was building Cinderella’s castle out of Legos. The twins, Leon and Beth, were five and were currently sharing a beanbag chair and drawing on each other with washable markers. The youngest, Robbie, was two, and asleep on the floor on a pile of clean, yet-to-be-folded laundry.
So, she wants another little ankle-biter, does she? Why the hell not? We’re still young. Mostly.
Ash retreated to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He didn’t drink nearly as much whiskey since they started having kids, but he had to admit he wanted it more often lately. This house was pretty damn loud. And his little girls had screams that rattled his ears as nothing else could. The boys certainly gave the girls a run for their money in the screaming department sometimes, though.
And now Rosemary was getting the baby fever again. He downed the water. Better stay hydrated for whatever comes next.
“Want some vodka with that?” Ash spun around. Of course, Rosemary had known exactly what he was thinking as soon as she’d arrived home from work. She was scary sometimes.
He laughed. “Kinda.”
Rosemary tossed her giant teacher tote bag on the bench in the huge mudroom and kicked off her heels into the pile of Stride Rite sneakers and flip-flops. There were hooks for bags and baskets for shoes, but try telling Rosemary what to do with her shit.
“You may as well give yourself whiskey dick now while you got the chance,” she said with a wink. “'Cause that little guy in your pants ain’t getting any action until Friday night.”
Ash glared. “Why do you gotta be so mean to me, baby? You know damn well he ain’t little.”
His wife glanced around, and seeing no children in the immediate vicinity, slithered up to her husband and stuck her hand down the front of his jeans. “Because you’re so damn sexy when you’re frustrated with me.”
He breathed at the touch of her hand on his cock. “Tease.”
“You knew that when you married me.” Rosemary stood on her tiptoes and kissed the side of Ash’s neck. He felt gooseflesh rising to the occasion, and his Little Ash was in full salute.
This was nuts. He had to go and marry a damn panther shifter, a creature that could resist doing the deed for as long as she wanted. She liked foreplay. Like, really liked it. And when Rosemary wanted foreplay, it could last weeks.
Before he could stop himself, he had her face in his grip. He let a dangerous, wolf-like growl escape his throat. “I was already imprinted on you when you pulled that abstinence bullshit on me before we were married. You knew damn well I didn’t stand a chance.”
He saw her pupils dilate and watched the blood plump up her lips. She was ready right now. Why not lock themselves in the pantry right now and git ’er done before the children even realized Mommy was home? They were both as athletic as the day they met—pretty much—and they had repeatedly defiled every room, closet, and nook in this big old house, time and time again.
Ash could pick his wife up and take her right now, and she wouldn’t resist. And he would still be able to fuck the shit out of this crazy woman every other night of the week. He was tempted to try it. Ash looked down at that sweet face. She was looking up at him with a viciously arched eyebrow, like she was reading his mind. She was daring him to try something. To step out of line. Her lips were so close to his he could already taste them. He clenched his jaw.
She read his yearning for her like a book. Her lips parted, and she revealed her feline fangs for a quick moment, just enough for him to see them and to watch her run her tongue over those sharp, lethal edges before retracting them again.
Shit. It was unbelievable, the control this woman had over sex and over the release of her beast. Ash’s control was more black and white, but he could never just allow his fangs to show themselves. Once he crossed that threshold, there was no stopping the wolf.
Her hand was still on his dick, and it was now hard as granite. This was torture. Ash’s hands moved up away from her jaw to the back of her head, where his fingers laced into her waves. He gave a gentle tug. Her eyes widened; she hadn’t been expecting that, and in response, she let out the faintest panther growl that turned into a purr as soon as their lips touched.
She might make him insane, but she was always worth it. Those lips of hers warmed to him always and invited him to do anything he wanted and promised to do all manner of unspeakable things. Everything else fell away whenever their lips and tongues met.
Rosemary’s hand jerked away from Ash’s crotch at the sound of several pairs of little feet pattering down the hall from the family room.
Damn.
She tried to pull away from his kiss, but Ash was not having it. He let go of her hair and lifted her feet off the ground with a big bear hug, their lips still fully engaged in a serious snog.
“Eeeew!” It was the favorite new phrase of the five-year-old twins, Beth and Leon.
Ash put his wife down and promised the twins that one day they would understand. Before the twins could tackle their mom for a hug, the newly awakened toddler came jetting in line ahead of them. “Mama!” Robbie cried as Rosemary scooped him up for hugs and kisses.
She cooed over her littlest. “You’re so warm, did you just wake up from your nap? Your daddy’s a hot sleeper, too.”
Ash nodded. “Yeah, he napped, but I reserve the right to not tell you where exactly he fell asleep. Everything’s a little chaotic out in the back of the house right now.”
But the toddler chirped, “I woke up on a pile of Daddy’s undershirts!”
Rosemary laughed and shot Ash a look that said Ash had earned himself a s
panking later.
He narrowed his eyes playfully at his wife. She arched an eyebrow at him again.
She had him by the short hairs, and she always would.
And Ash was pretty much fine with that. Pretty much.
* * *
Rosemary
Lionel and Betsy DuChamp came with their driver in their shiny black Suburban promptly at five p.m. on Friday. Rosemary smiled to herself as she watched her beefy, bossy daddy in his three-piece suit wrangle her five kids into car seats and boosters. She was deeply grateful, but also wished they would hurry up. She had just finished a five-mile run and wanted to wash the sweat and trail dirt off her body before Ash came home from his last-minute sex errands.
The driver efficiently stacked all of the kids’ suitcases, sleeping bags, and backpacks in the way back.
This was the first used vehicle that old Lionel had ever bought. The man did not drive, and he certainly would never normally be seen around the social clubs of New Orleans in an old Chevy. He was a pristine Lincoln man, through and through. But Rosemary had convinced him he was going to need space for not just kids, but also all of the stuff that comes along with having kids.
It had only taken one spilled sippy cup of milk to convince him to invest in a used vehicle to transport his grandchildren. “It says spill-proof on the packaging,” he had sputtered.
Rosemary smirked. “What are you gonna do, Daddy? Sue the manufacturer of sippy cups?”
He had blustered, “Hell no, why fill the pockets of the lawyers when I can just buy the company and fire everyone?”
She had shaken her head and rolled her eyes at the time. But then, several weeks later, that brand of sippy cup had mysteriously disappeared off the shelves. The whole thing had given Rosemary the willies, reflecting on that kind of power. It haunted her enough that she convinced her daddy to offer all those laid-off people jobs with his company, which he eventually did.
On this day, though, it warmed her heart to watch the old man with her kids. She laughed at the thought of him taking them all for Happy Meals and shouting at them while they went apeshit all over the McDonald’s play area.