Page 143 of Hockey Boy
“Welcome to my life, wife. You leave me breathless daily. Now get on my face.”
“Aiden.”
Even as she scolds me, she straddles my neck. Chin tucked, she watches me, her expression a mix of need and affection.
Her tits make an incredible sight, but I can’t play with them the way I love in this position. I want to eat her ass, but she gets weird about me kissing her after. Strange, I know. So I slide my thumb back into that tight hole, then I suck her clit into my mouth. The sounds she makes as she rides me have me leaking and bucking up, desperate for friction. Fuck, I need her to come again.
“Ass or pussy?” I grit out, pulling away.
“Oh god.” Head tossed back, she moans.
“Not God, baby. Your husband. Now tell me. After you come again, am I shoving my cock into your ass or your pussy? The toy goes in the other hole, so choose wisely.”
“Ass.”
I press that thumb deeper, stretching her. “Good answer.”
Knowing what’s in store for us both, I suck her clit back into my mouth and allow her to use my chin to get herself off. She grinds against me until she’s crying out and dripping down my face.
She’s still blinking back to reality as I pull the toy and the lube out of the bedside drawer. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve got to be inside my girl. She’s my home.
An hour later, I rush back to our old apartment to grab Lennox’s good-night flowers. So what if I had a greenhouse installed on the roof of the building? I have to ensure my wife gets her favorite flowers on the regular. While we’ve started construction on a greenhouse for the brownstone, it won’t be finished until spring.
Tomorrow we’re heading to Bristol for the fundraiser for Liv’s brother’s fire department, but for one more night, Lennox is all mine. The three days since our wedding at town hall—not exactly a honeymoon, but I’ll take it—have been some of the best of my life. How could they not be, when it’s just been the two of us?
I take the stairs of the brownstone two at a time. These days, I’m always rushing toward my life with Lennox. There will never be a moment that I don’t run toward her, full steam ahead, excited for what’s next. Even if it’s just another movie night in bed with my girl and Goose.
Speaking of our puppy, when I step inside, he’s not sitting at the door waiting for me, which means he’s cuddling with Lennox. After our late afternoon sexcapades, we showered, and then I left her curled up and sleepy.
The giggles that echo down the hall are the first sign that this night is not going in the direction I planned. Even so, I make my way toward our bedroom, pink peonies in one hand and a pizza box in the other.
I push the door open, then freeze on the threshold. “What are you doing here?”
Okay, I know I sound like Beckett. I may have even growled, but seriously. Seriously. It’s our honeymoon. Why is Sara lying in my bed with my dog at her feet and her head on my boobs?
Fine. They’re Lennox’s boobs, but now that we’re married, they belong to me too.
It’s the law.
My law.
And a great one at that.
“Aiden,” Lennox chides.
“Don’t you Aiden me,” I tell her, holding out her favorite flowers. “I was promised more sex and cuddles and the second Bridget Jones movie.”
“Oh my god, that’s my favorite one,” Sara squeals.
“Of course it’s your favorite. It’s the best,” I reply with a huff. Damn, Beckett is rubbing off on me.
“And he brought pizza,” Sara says. “Best husband ever. Don’t tell Brooks I said that,” she adds, completely ignoring me. She pops up on her knees and reaches for the box. I gladly hand it over. Lennox is what I want. I couldn’t care less about the pizza. Hell, I don’t even need the movie night or the sex, but I’m putting my foot down. This is our honeymoon.
“We’re married. Bedrooms are for married people,” I tell Sara. “Take your pizza and go.”
Lennox’s mouth drops open.
Sara, who’s already pulled a greasy slice out and taken a bite, doesn’t bother to swallow before she counters. “Nah, best friend trumps husband.”