Ruth’s eyes are glazed, lids heavy with lust as she fights to catch her breath. The seconds tick by, and I’m about to reach for the jeans tangled at my ankle so I can fish out a condom when she says a single word that nearly results in a mess on her stomach.
“Baby.”
I don’t have a breeding kink. I swear I don’t.
But I also didn’t think I had a knee fucking kink, and I definitely have one of those. Along with an elbow kink.
Possibly even an ankle kink.
But hearing that Ruth wants from me something I never expected to give anyone takes any willpower I may have had and grinds it to dust.
I don’t even blink before I have our bodies aligned and am slowly sinking into her. She feels every bit as good as I imagined. Maybe even better. I want to drag it out. Savor this experience as long as I can. But I’m realistic enough to know that’s just not an option available to me.
We’re working on a very limited timetable here. One that only gets shorter as Ruth’s eyes roll back in her head and the generous swell of her tits starts to bounce in time with every thrust of my body into hers.
I’m fucked. Literally. Figuratively. I’m about to be the poster boy for premature ejaculation, and I can’t let that happen.
By some miracle, I have the mental capacity to remember the trick of putting pressure just above her pubic bone. Ruth’s eyes fly open as I press my hand to her skin. She lets out a startled gasp, confirming I found the spot I’m aiming for. When I rest my thumb against her clit, her legs start to shake. She only lasts maybe thirty more seconds, but by the time Ruth finally comes, I’m fighting for my fucking life. Holding on by nothing more than a thread of dignity and a scrap of determination.
She’s still clenching around me when I lose the battle, her name on my lips as my balls draw tight, emptying everything I have into her welcoming body.
When the last spark of pleasure dissipates, I ungracefully tip over, managing to drop beside her as I pull large gulps of air into my lungs. I tuck Ruth’s back to my front, curling around her, pants still tangled at my ankle, one boot still on as I smile into the dark drape of her hair.
She yawns. “Are you going to tell me to go to sleep now?”
My smile widens thinking about the first night I caved and let myself touch her. “Not tonight, Ruthless.” I wedge one hand between her legs, cupping her pussy with my palm. “Tonight, you’ll be lucky if I let you sleep at all.” I slide two fingers into her body, frowning at how much of my cum has already leaked free. “I have a lot of time to make up for.”
And apparently a newly discovered breeding kink to explore.
33
Ruth
Iwoke up so freaking happy this morning. I got the best sleep I’ve had in weeks—even with Tucker waking me up a few times so he could prove he can last longer than thirty seconds. Opened my eyes in his arms and felt safe and hopeful and was looking forward to the future.
Then I remembered I have to go back to Wyoming and face Deidre Bradshaw.
I put the last of Birdie’s toys into one of the large boxes we’re using to pack up my apartment. “Does your mom know about… everything?”
Tucker chuckles, not seeming to share my same concerns about his mother’s reaction to our charade. “She does, and the gloating is definitely strong.”
My stomach drops, falling straight to my feet. “Is she mad at me?”
I don’t know why it matters to me so much what Deidre thinks of me. Of course I want her to like me, she’s Tucker’s mother after all, but I have to admit it’s probably more than that. After watching how warm and loving she is withBrooke and Mariah, a tiny part of me has always wanted her to be the same way toward me.
And any chance of that ever happening probably disappeared when she found out I’m a big fat liar whose pants are on fire.
“Never.” Tucker stops what he’s doing, pushing aside the box packed full of Birdie’s clothes. “She’s as ready for you to be home as I am.”
I’m not sure I believe him. “That doesn’t mean she’s not mad at me.”
Tucker straightens, standing from his spot on the floor of Birdie’s room. He rests both hands on my shoulders, expression serious. “My mother is a lot of things, Ruthless. But she will tell you the most important one is a mother. She would never judge you or be mad at you for doing what it takes to protect Birdie.” He shakes his head. “Never.”
My throat is tight, a combination of sadness, hope, and fear trying to strangle me. All I can do is nod and pray he’s right.
We spend the rest of the day packing up the important parts of my apartment. Things I don’t want someone else messing with unsupervised and items that need to accompany us on the flight back. I haven’t been here long, so the amount of stuff I’ve accumulated is minimal. By the time we have to leave for the airport, it’s all pretty much wrapped up and ready for the movers Tucker hired to come collect everything next week.
Tucker didn’t just handle finding the movers. He also talked to the property manager, took care of all the utilities, and got us plane tickets. All I had to do was pack and take care of Birdie.
