Quinn 28.
4 Months Later
“What are you doing?” I hiss, my question not deterring either of us in the least. Polk pushes my front against the brick wall, working my jeans down my legs. I lift my right and shake it to help him free me. Balanced on one leg, he pushes my right leg up and out, resting my knee on the wall and opening me wide to his hungry cock.
“You know what I’m doing? I’m fucking my wife.” I make a wistful sound before putting a stop to that. I love hearing him call me his wife. I’ve proudly boasted that title for almost 6 weeks and I pray the thrill of it never gets old. Being Mrs. Bently Walker is the best, right after being mom to my boys.
“This is not as sexy a scene as you think it is.” He snorts near my ear, his hips adjusting behind me as he noses around my snatch with his dick. I may or may not tilt my own hips to accommodate.
“You’re fucking soaked, darlin’, so I think it’s sexy enough.”
“It’s a kennel. That smells like dog shit.”
“Mmm. Keep talking like that and I’ll bust before I get inside you.” My forehead drops to the rough brick of the open outdoor kennel as laughter bubbles up and out of me. The dogs he’s housing are mostly asleep, though a couple continue to whine for attention. They’re gonna have to wait.
“Polk— Fuck!” His hard thrust cuts me off, pleasure bursting between my legs. His hands move mine to the wall, his fingers entwining with mine as he mercilessly pounds into me.
“It’s gonna be quick, baby.” He licks up the side of my neck and bites my ear. “Too worked up. And the boys will be looking for us.”
“Oh, yeah. Talk about our children some more.” I sass breathily. I manage to deadpan, “Between that and the smell of shit, I’m surprised I haven’t cum three times by now.”
He growls, releases one of my hands and quickly slaps my pussy right over my clit. “Bad girl.” Polk grips my hips tight, abruptly pulls me from the wall, and bends me over until I’m forced to plant my hands on the floor so I don’t tip over. Maybe I should piss him off more often. He’s like some kind of maniac, slapping my ass and fucking me hard and fast.
It is the Fuckoning.
“Stand up!” Polk demands, reaching forward to thread his fingers through my hair and pull me upright. My back to his heaving chest, his right arm wraps around my side and up between my breasts to hold me in place. His left dips between my legs and rubs tight, maddening circles on my swollen and sensitive clit. “Now cum, brat.”
“That’s Mrs. Brat to you!” His rhythm erratic, he laughs as he roars his release. Feeling him fill me is indescribable. My own orgasm rushes through me, leaving me breathless and limp.
I’ve had bad days. Some extremely difficult days. But Polk is right there. Every day. Every time I need him. I am his top priority, well, me and the boys. He is my confidant, my biggest supporter, my best friend, and my husband. He is my forever and ever.
We kiss and trade sappy smiles as we redress. He checks on each of the dogs in his care, while I refill their water bowls. The boys were here earlier running around the fenced in yard, playing with the dogs and loving on them. The long kennel has 10 dog stalls with access to a small private grassy area to do their business, 5 cat stalls, and two open stalls at the far end for horses, goats, or whatever other big animal someone entrusts to him for safe keeping.
At the last dog stall, I close the gate and lock it. Hearing a sound from the second horse stall, I stand still to see if I hear it again. A whimper. Something is hurt. But he doesn’t have any big animals right now.
“Polk?” He closes up the stall at the other end and raises his head to look at me. “Can you come here?” I pass the first horse stall and peer around the corner into the next, my breath stalling in my lungs. “POLK!” I yell urgently, dropping to my knees just inside, hitting the dry hay on the ground. He runs down the kennel. My hands shake as I touch the dark, shapeless lump huddled in the corner. I know it’s a person, but I don’t know who it is. “Hey.” I say in a soft, gentle tone. “I won’t hurt you.” Another pained whimper and I know it’s a female. “Can you move, sweetheart?” They don’t respond and I’m not sure what to do. I glance over my shoulder to Polk and beg with my eyes for him to help me.
He jerks his chin for me to get up and step back. He takes my place, using his training with handling wounded animals, to carefully pull back the coverings.
“Oh, God!” My hands come up to my mouth, tears welling in my eyes. The human underneath is a massive bruise from head to toe, barely clothed, and bloody.
“Quinn!” Polk holds out his arm to block me from reentering the stall. She’s…what happened? Who did this to her? How long has she been out here? “QUINN!” My head whips up, my eyes straying back to the lifeless mangled body. “Quinn, I need you to call Madison.”
“Ambulance! She needs an ambulance!”
“She does. But I need you to call Madison first, they have to let them onto the property.” I nod numbly, pulling my phone from my pocket and trying three times to unlock it before finding Madison’s number. I put it on speaker phone.
“Spaz, where are you—”
“Pres.” Polk would never interrupt his president if it wasn’t serious. “There’s a woman in the kennel, beat to shit, bleeding and unconscious.”
“Fuck.”
“Quinn is going to call an ambulance, it’s more than I can treat.”
“Ok, I’ll alert the prospect on the gate.”
Polk meets my eyes and sighs, his shoulders slumping. “And find Langley.”
“Langley?” Pres and I both ask.
“Contain him.”
“Polk, what the fuck is going on? Do you know the woman?”
“We all do…It’s Chastity.”