I heaved for the cold winter air howling against the windows. The snow was battering the house, and ice was tinkling as it broke off from the gutter. Colt climbed back up over me before he encompassed my lips with his. My tongue licked his lips, tasting myself on him as I shook in his wake, and he slowly slipped into me without a second thought while my body continued to recuperate from the pleasure he had just afforded me.
“I love you, Cheyenne,” he said. His voice was low and rough, like his truck that rolled over the gravel of my driveway. He slowly slipped into my pussy, stoking the fire he had set between my legs as the embers of my heart began to swell. I enveloped his body with my flame while the ice continued to gather outside, and when we easily found our rhythm and rocked against one another, I could feel how his body was shaking against me.
His muscles were expanding and contracting against my skin with every thrust his body took. With his hands planted next to my head and his eyes locked onto mine, all I could think about were the thick slabs of muscle my fingernails were digging into. His arms flexed, and his back churned. His legs pumped, and his pelvis snapped. His breath fed me, and his groans stoked the fire, and it wasn’t until I lifted my shoulders to capture his lips that he collapsed onto my body and lost himself in my skin.
Bite after bite was left across my shoulders, neck, and chest. His hips pumped furiously into mine while my legs hooked over his calves, and his hands pinned my wrists above my head, exposing the whole of my body to him. He fed on me—devoured me—like a vulture who had finally descended on its dinner, and I was dead in the water when his dick twitched inside me.
“Fuck, Cheyenne,” he said.
“I love you, Colt,” I said breathlessly. “I love you so much. Please, don’t stop.”
The bed bucked against the wall, and our bodies rammed together. Our teeth clattered together in sloppy kisses while bite marks raised themselves on my skin. I could see the welts from where my nails had raked his body, and I could feel the way his feet were digging into the mattress. When my head became dangerously close to the headboard, he released my wrists and cupped my head for safety.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You’re alright.”
I wrapped my arms a
round his shoulders and locked my legs around his waist, and I knew the moment I latched onto him he was done for. His hips barreled deep into mine before all of his actions stilled, and his thick cock jumped with every pump of his orgasm that painted my body with his mark. I smiled into his skin and dragged my lips along the thickness of his shoulder, reveling in his strength and admiring his raw beauty.
He collapsed onto me, panting for air while he shook in the afterglow of his own orgasm, and all I could do was hold him close. I ran my fingers through his hair as I felt him slowly slide out from between my legs, but this time I didn’t feel the need to go clean myself up.
All I wanted to do was hold him.
“I love you, Colt.”
He lifted his head and pressed his lips into mine, and then I felt his telltale smile creep across his lips.
“I love you, too, Cheyenne,” he repeated.
“Are you glad I’m staying?” I asked.
“Is that really a question?”
“I suppose I just want to hear it,” I admitted.
He rolled me over with my legs straddling his hips while I felt him grow against the access between my thighs.
“Why don’t I just show you?” he said, grinning broadly.
Then he slid into me once again without a second thought.
Epilogue
Colt
The wind was howling in the trees, signaling the beginning of fall—now Cheyenne’s favorite time of the year—and I was beat. The restaurant was thriving now more than ever, and we had even expanded our hours to include breakfast during the week and brunch on Sundays. People would flood the restaurant before scooting on up the road to the church, and it made for some very chaotic days. I was ready to get home and wrap the whole of my arms around Cheyenne, who I knew could use a foot massage at this point.
I parked the truck and hopped on out, but a movement caught my eye through the window. Cheyenne was bent over, no doubt trying to fiddle with something I told her to leave be, and for a second, I just stood there. I admired the sweat dripping from her brow and simply took in her glowing skin. I knew she was uncomfortable and ready for this entire part of her life to be over, but I was relishing every second. I enjoyed waking her up with my face planted between her legs. I enjoyed giving her foot rubs that made her moan like I had wrapped the whole of my lips around her toes. I loved the hot baths we took together and the massages she begged for on her lower back that almost always led to licking up her drippings as they ran down her leg.
I loved this part of her life, and I if I had it my way, she’d stay pregnant for the rest of her days.
I watched her look out the window at me, and she seemed relieved. The wind whipping through the yard shuffled the clothes on my back, and they seemed to push me to the stairs of our porch. Even the earth was beckoning I go home to her, and when she flung the door open, she stepped out—stomach first—into the cool autumn breeze.
“How’re my two girls?” I asked. I dipped down and kissed her sweating forehead before I leaned over and kissed her stomach. I felt a small kick against my lips, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride, but that same kick that I admired almost took Cheyenne to her knees.
“Whoa, whoa, let’s get you sitting down,” I said.
“She’s been wreaking havoc on my life today,” she said with a grunt.