“Keegan. Keegan Jude Peterson. It means little flame. Because he’ll always be the light in my heart.”
“It’s perfect,” he whispered.
“I know you didn’t want a Bible name, but I wanted him to have a piece of you.”
Jude pressed a finger to my lips. “I love it,” he said. “And I love you.” He leaned down and replaced his finger with his lips.
My hands pressed against his chest, but not to push him away. My fingers grasped at his cut, pulling him closer to me. I missed his kiss, his hands on my body. That first night in Rosewood was magic, even if I did believe it was all my imagination.
I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue warred with mine. He tasted like coffee and I wanted to drink him up. My hands slid up around his neck, and I lifted on my toes.
His hands went around to my ass, and he squeezed and kneaded my butt before lifting me off the floor. My legs wrapped around him without question, and he spun us around and tipped me back onto the bed, his body following mine, crushing me to the mattress.
The feel of his weight made me breathless. His kiss stole every moan, every whimper I offered.
“Take off your clothes, Jude,” I mumbled against his mouth, not wanting to lose the moment, but needing to feel his skin.
He pulled back and stood up, kicking off his boots and removing his cut. I lay there watching, my eyes getting their fill as his hands ripped the shirt from his body.
The moment his scars came into view, my eyes filled with tears at what he’d endured. The physical pain he must have lived through, combined with the emotional pain of losing me and the baby.
I finally understood the sacrifice he’d made for me.
“I love you, Jude.”
“I love you too, baby.”
His hands made quick work of his belt and jeans, and then he was standing in front of me, naked. Every scar visible, every muscle flexing as he held himself back while I took him in.
I scooted to the end of the bed and reached out, taking his dick in my hand. He groaned as I stroked him. His eyes bored into mine and I leaned forward and licked the tip.
“I’m on the edge here, baby.”
“I know.” I smiled and engulfed his cock with my mouth. Swirling my tongue around the head, I rubbed the sensitive spot beneath the crown, and his hand went to the back of my head.
“Fuck, Morgan. I won’t last like this. That mouth will be the end of me.”
I didn’t relent. I sucked him to the back of my throat and exhaled through my nose, taking him deeper. His hands fisted in my hair as his hips bucked against me.
“Take it, Morgan. Make me come, baby.”
My hands rubbed against his thighs, reaching around to grab his firm ass. I pulled him closer as he held my head and fucked my mouth. His moans were music to my ears. I loved hearing him lose control.
He didn’t last long. I buried my nose against his pelvis and swallowed, letting my throat contract around the head of his cock. With a shout, he cried out my name and came.
When his dick stopped pulsing, I slid my mouth off him, licking what remained. I held him in my hand and stroked him, licking every drop of cum that still dripped out of the slit on the end.
“Stop, baby, you’re killing me.”
I looked up at him, and his eyes burned with desire.
“Get on the bed,” he growled. “I need to fuck you,” he said, as he replaced my hand with his, stroking his cock until he was hard again.
“I thought once you hit forty, you had to rest in between,” I said with a grin.
His chest rumbled as he kneeled between my legs and snarled at me. “I may be fucking forty, but I haven’t had anything but my hand for seven fucking years. You’ll be lucky if you can get out of this bed tomorrow.”
My body shivered with his threat, and I ripped the shirt I was wearing off my body. When we made it back to the clubhouse, Jude had insisted on putting me in his room and Sully in mine, so Brian could guard us both. I took a shower and put on one of his shirts, wanting to be surrounded by him.
