Ryder swats my ass as I swipe the key card to our room, and I yelp.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You might have won three gold medals this week, but I’m the guy who gets to fuck the three-time gold-winning Mabel Quinn, darling of Team USA, so I think I’m the real winner.”
The door shuts behind us and I pounce on him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as I maul his face. We’re all tongues and teeth and lips, biting and scratching and licking, trying like hell to crawl into each other’s skin. He throws me on the bed and tears at my clothes, yanking and ripping until I’m completely bare in front of him, then he stands back and makes quick work of his own clothes. I start to lift the medals offmy neck, but Ryder stops me, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Leave them on. I want to see my gold ring on your finger and your gold medals around your neck while you’re coming all over my cock, baby girl.”
“Fuck, yes,” I whimper. My sweet little virgin has become quite the dirty talker in the last two weeks, and I love it. “How do you want me, baby?”
“Hands and knees,” he purrs, and I obey. Spreading my knees wide, I arch my back and present my cunt to my husband, shivering when he groans his approval.
“Fuck, such a pretty pussy my wife has. So wet for me.” He licks my seam, parting my folds and tickling my clit with the tip of his tongue, and I push back against his face. I’m already so wet, so full of adrenaline and aching to come, it won’t take much to push me over the edge. I cry out my protest when he takes his tongue away, but the sound of a condom wrapper being torn soothes me. I feel the bed dip, Ryder’s legs bracketing my own, and then he’s there, notching himself at my entrance.
“Please, baby,” I whimper, and Ryder shoves his thick cock inside me in one long, punishing thrust. The medals hanging from my neck clank together as he pulls out and thrusts back in, finding a pace that has my toes curling and my body begging for release.
“So fucking gorgeous, Mabel. Look at all these muscles. So hot and strong. I was so hard watching you earlier, baby girl. When it’s just you and your board,fuck.There’s nothing more beautiful.”
I’m so close, panting and gasping and trying like hell to reach the orgasm that is tingling at my edges. Ryder wraps an arm around my middle, pulling me back until his chest is plastered against my back, then slips his other hand down to circle my clit.
“Let me feel you come, Mabel. Let me feel my gorgeous wife milking my fucking dick.” He swipes over my clit with two fingers and I detonate, my orgasm stealing my breath and tearing at my seams. My body turns to jelly, blissed out in pleasure as the waves roll over me, but Ryder keeps me steady even as his pace loses rhythm and his hips start to slap off my ass faster and faster. I can feel the moment his cock swells, and then he’s cursing through his release, filling the condom and then falling on top of me.
“I love you,” he breathes, planting soft kisses between my shoulder blades. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I love you too, Ryder. You’re the best mistake I ever made.”
“Not a mistake, baby girl. A misstep, maybe. Butnot a mistake. You and I were always going to end up just like this.”
While I shower, Ryder sneaks out to the dining facilities and comes back with a buffet of pastries, tiny cakes, and three different kinds of gelato, and I know he’s right. It was always going to be me and Ryder, the love of my life masquerading as my best frenemy.
Exactly like this.
EPILOGUE–A MINI MARSHMALLOW
RYDER
The French Alps, 2030
“Ryder, can you tell us how you’re feeling heading into today’s competition?”
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m nervous as hell. Even though this isn’t our first go-around, the pressure is still intense. But I have faith in the trainers, the team, and everyone involved. And I know that no matter the outcome, the Quinn-Finch family will be an overflowing well of love and support.”
I give the reporter a polite nod and move on, adjusting the noise-cancelling headphones on Marshall’s head. It’s too cold for him to be outside for the entire half-pipe competition today, but Mom assured me that as long as he bundled up and has hisear protection on, Marshall will be just fine to join me in the stands for Mabel’s runs.
“C’mon little buddy,” I coo to the baby strapped to my chest. “Let’s go find your grandmas and grandpas! We gotta watch Mommy earn a medal! Aren’t you excited?”
Marshall burps in response, and that’s pretty much all I can ask of my six-month old son. I walk with an extra pep in my step all the way to the stands, because Marshall loves to be bounced around. By the time we reach mine and Mabel’s parents, my kid is giggling like a maniac.
“You’re just in time. Sweden is up next and then it’s Mabel’s turn,” Dad says as I squeeze between Mom and Melanie so that both grandmas have equal access to baby cheek squishes. Marcus holds out a fist for knocking, and I pick up one of Marshall’s squishy little arms and meet him with a bump.
“I know, I had to hit the presser though. You know the people can’t get enough of our little third generation Quinn-Finch.”
“This snowsuit is too cute, Ryder. He looks like?—”
“A mini marshmallow?” I smile, finishing Mom’s thought for her. In his all white Team U.S.A snowsuit, the blue beanie covering tufts of baby soft red hair , and the spray of freckles across his cheeks, Marshallis almost the spitting image of his mother. Except his eyes. Those little emerald orbs I could stare at for hours are all mine.
“Exactly,” Melanie agrees, her voice rapidly devolving into almost indecipherable baby talk. “Marshall The Marshmallow. Are you ready to watch Mommy compete? I bet you are, I bet you are.”
“I can’t wait until this winter when we can get him on his own board and start familiarizing him with the mountain, you know?” Really, I can’t wait to recreate the photo I keep in my office at home, the one of Mabel’s first snowboard ride taken from behind moments after she let go of my hands and started gliding all on her own. If my son ends up half as brave and talented as his mom is, I’ll be a happy dad.
