“Because I like the way you squeal when you cook them,” Foster said, kissing the back of my neck.
I turned and smiled at him. “You’re horrible, you know that?”
He winked.
“Where’s Louis?” I asked, noticing that he didn’t have the child that Molder refused to leave alone.
In fact, Louis and Beckham would forever have a protector in Molder.
He loved the kids, and treated them as if they were his own pups.
He let us know when they were awake. Let us know when they were sick.
“Ladies,” Foster said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into the office that was built off the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse us for a couple minutes.”
Startled, I looked behind me, seeing the knowing faces.
“Foster!” I hissed. “What are you doing?”
He shut the door and locked it behind him before unbuttoning his pants, all the while corralling me towards the couch that was in the middle of the room.
He grinned when my legs met the back of the couch, and then laughed when I turned my frantic gaze to his.
“What’s wrong, honey?” He teased.
I shook my head. “We’re not doing this here. Not with that many people in our house.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah?”
When he kissed the base of my neck, and tickled his beard along the sensitive skin, I lost the ability to use complex words.
“Yeah,” I gasped when he started to suck at the base of my ear.
“I don’t see you saying no,” he observed as he started to lift my shirt and bra over my head.
“Mmmm,” I said, eyes zeroing in on how it felt to feel his hands running over my breasts.
He laughed quietly. “So you want me? Here? Now?”
“Mmmm,” I said again when he pulled one nipple into his mouth and started to suck lightly.
I gasped, hips jerking in response.
“Fuck me,” I ordered him.
His response was to turn me around, lift up my skirt, and bend me over the couch.
With his cock lined up at my entrance, he pushed inside with a low growl.
“That’s what I thought.”