Bonus Epilogue
Shepherd
The front door clicks shut behind Mom, and the house suddenly feels different—quieter, heavier with possibility.
August is gone for the night, giggling in her arms as she drove off, and for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s just Felicity and me.
No tiny voice calling for water, no little feet thumping down the hallway at the worst possible moment. Just us.
I turn around and there she is, sprawled on the couch like she’s been waiting for this exact second.
Black slip dress clinging to every curve, legs crossed, wine glass dangling from her fingers.
Her dark hair spills over one shoulder, and those bright eyes lock on mine with that look.
It’s the one that says she’s already thinking about how she’s going to ruin me tonight.
My cock twitches just from the sight of her.
“Finally alone,” I say, voice low as I cross the room. I lean down, kiss her slow and deep, tasting the cabernet on her tongue. She tastes like sin and home all at once. “What do you say we make the most of it, baby?”
Her hand slides up my thigh, fingers brushing the growing bulge in my jeans. “Oh, I plan to,” she murmurs, setting the glass aside.
She uncrosses her legs deliberately, letting the hem of her dress ride high enough to flash black lace.
I’m already half-hard, pulse thudding in my ears.
Felicity reaches for my belt, undoes it with practiced ease, pops the button, drags the zipper down.
When she shoves my jeans and boxers past my hips, my cock springs free—thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip because she’s looking at it like it’s her favorite thing in the world.
“Fuck, Felicity,” I groan as her fingers wrap around me, stroking slow and firm from base to head.
She licks her lips, eyes never leaving mine, then leans in and kisses the tip—soft, teasing.
Her tongue flicks out, laps up the bead of precum, and I hiss through my teeth.
Then she opens wider and takes me in, warm wet heat enveloping the head, sliding down inch by inch until I hit the back of her throat.
My hand instinctively goes to her hair, fingers threading through the dark strands. “That’s it, baby. Suck me just like that. God, your mouth feels so fucking good.”
She hums around me, the vibration shooting straight to my balls.
Her tongue swirls under the ridge, cheeks hollowing as she bobs, hand twisting at the base in perfect rhythm.
I watch her—lips stretched around my girth, eyes watering a little when she pushes deeper—and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
She gags softly but doesn’t stop, and takes me all the way until her nose brushes my skin.
“Shit, yeah,” I growl, hips rocking just enough to fuck her mouth shallowly. “Choke on it, sweetheart. Take every inch like the good girl you are.”
She moans around me, the sound muffled and filthy, and her free hand cups my balls, rolling them gently.
I’m throbbing so hard it almost hurts, precum leaking steadily onto her tongue.
She pulls off for a second, gasping, spit stringing from her lips to my cock, and looks up at me with those wrecked green eyes.
“You taste so good, Shepherd,” she says, voice hoarse. “I love making you hard for me.”
Then she dives back in, sucking harder, faster, determined to unravel me. I let her have her fun for a minute longer—because fuck, I could come down her throat right now and be happy—but I want more. I want all of her.
I tug her hair gently, pulling her off. “Enough,” I rasp. “I’m not coming yet. Not until I’m balls-deep in that tight little pussy.”
I haul her up, crush my mouth to hers, tasting myself on her tongue.
She moans into the kiss, hands shoving my shirt up and off while I strip her dress over her head in one motion.
We stumble toward the bedroom, shedding the rest—jeans kicked aside, her bra unhooked, panties yanked down.
By the time we hit the mattress I’m naked, hard as steel, and she’s bare and flushed beneath me.
I kiss down her neck, teeth grazing her collarbone, then lower to her breasts. I suck one nipple hard, flicking my tongue over the peak while my hand slides between her thighs. She’s soaked—slippery, swollen, ready. My fingers part her folds, circle her clit, then dip inside.
“You’re dripping for me already, aren’t you?” I murmur against her skin.
“Yes,” she gasps, hips bucking. “Please… touch me.”
I slide two fingers deep, curl them against that spot I know makes her see stars. She whimpers, clutching my shoulders. I want her desperately.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“You,” she breathes. “Inside me. Fuck me, Shepherd.”
I grin against her breast, withdraw my fingers, bring them to my mouth and lick them clean. She tastes like pure sex. “Patience. I’m making you come first.”
I move down, settle between her thighs, push them wide.
Her pussy is glistening, pink and perfect.
I drag my tongue over her clit in one long, firm stroke, and she cries out, hands fisting the sheets.
I eat her like I’m starving—lapping, sucking, circling, then plunging my tongue inside her to taste every drop.
I add my fingers again, pumping steady while my mouth works her clit relentlessly.
“You taste like fucking heaven,” I growl against her. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you clench around my fingers.”
It hits her fast. Her thighs tremble, back arches, and she comes with my name on her lips, pulsing hard around my fingers, flooding my mouth. I lick her through it until she’s shaking and boneless.
But I’m nowhere near done.
I climb back up, line myself up, and look into her eyes. “Look at me,” I say.
When she does, I thrust in—one long, deep slide until I’m buried to the hilt. She gasps, nails digging into my back, legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper. She’s so tight, so hot, gripping me like a fist.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I groan, holding still for a second just to feel her flutter around me. “So fucking tight. Like you were made for my cock.”
Then I start moving—slow pulls out, hard thrusts in. Each stroke builds, hips snapping, bed creaking. She meets me every time, rolling her hips, taking me deeper.
“Harder,” she begs. “Fuck me harder, Shepherd.”
I give it to her—pounding deep, relentless. “Like this? You want me to fuck you like this?”
“Yes! God, yes!”
Sweat slicks our skin, the room filled with the wet slap of our bodies, her moans, my grunts. I shift, angle just right to hit her G-spot every time. She’s climbing again, clenching tighter.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Come on my cock. Milk me dry.”
My thumb finds her clit, rubbing fast circles, and she shatters—pussy spasming, pulling me in deeper. I can’t hold back. A few more hard thrusts and I’m coming too, burying myself as deep as I can, spilling inside her in hot pulses.
We collapse, panting, but after a minute I roll us so she’s on top. My cock’s still hard—thank fuck for adrenaline and months of pent-up need. “Ride me, Felicity. Show me how much you want it.”
She grins, wicked and beautiful, straddles me, sinks down slow. The sight of her taking me in—inch by inch, lips parted, head tipped back—is enough to make me lose my mind. She starts moving, grinding her clit against me, then bouncing harder. I grip her hips, thrust up to meet her.
“Look at you,” I rasp. “Bouncing on my dick like that. So fucking sexy.”
She leans forward, hair curtaining us, and rides me fast—ass slapping my thighs, tits bouncing. “You love this cock, don’t you?” I say, voice rough. “Can’t get enough of it stretching that pretty pussy.”
“Yes,” she moans. “It’s all yours.”
We come together again—her clenching, me pulsing deep inside her.
Later, she slides down, takes me in her mouth again—cleaning me, tasting us both. I watch her, stroking her hair. “Greedy girl. Want more already?”
She nods, turns, presents her ass on all fours. I kneel behind her, slap her cheek lightly—watching it jiggle, watching our mixed cum drip from her swollen pussy. “Spread for me, baby. Show me that wet cunt.”
She reaches back, parts herself. I thrust in hard, gripping her hips, fucking her deep and steady. “Take it all,” I growl. “Every fucking inch.”
She pushes back, meeting me thrust for thrust. I spank her again, rub her clit, feel her tighten. “You’re mine,” I say. “This pussy is mine to fuck whenever I want.”
She comes hard, squirting a little, and I follow right after, filling her again.
We don’t stop. Hallway—her legs around my waist, back against the wall, me driving up into her until she screams. Shower—her on her knees again, then bent over, water pounding our skin while I take her from behind.
Each time I talk filthy, each time she begs for more, each time we come together like the world might end tomorrow.
By the time we finally collapse back in bed, sheets wrecked, bodies spent, it’s past midnight. She curls against my chest, soft and warm, my arm locked around her.
“That was incredible,” she whispers.
I kiss her forehead, already feeling the stir of want again. “Rest up, baby. Round… whatever we’re on… starts soon.”
She laughs quietly, but I feel her thighs press together. We’ve got all night. And I plan to use every second of it.
Thank you for reading Book 1-3 of the Magnolia Ridge Series.