EPILOGUE
WYATT
TWO YEARS LATER
“Don’t stop… Don’t…” Kennedy gasps as my lips purse around her clit and suck harder. Ever since we learned about her pregnancy, her sex drive has been off the charts—something I’m extremely willing to satisfy with my fingers, mouth, or cock.
I glance up and marvel at her round baby belly, though it sucks that her heavy tits are blocked from view. Her arms flex and I imagine her delicate fingers playing with the swollen nipples, tempting dribbles of milk to fall. Fuck, I can’t wait to taste that creamy sweetness when the time comes.
Sure, it’s nutrition for our baby, but it’s also sexy as hell, and I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to devour my wife in all ways.
“Come on, baby,” I command, rubbing my bearded cheeks in her honeyed cunt. “Once you come on my face, then I’ll let you ride my dick.” And I’ll get the prime view of her bouncing breasts that I’m currently missing.
Damn, I’m a lucky bastard.
Every day, I marvel at my good fortune. The love of my life—my heart spark , according to town legend. A healthy baby on the way. And a family of brothers who accept me as their own now that I’ve proven my worth.
For all the shit I put up with in childhood—the instability, the loneliness—life made up for it by giving me the Caldwell family. Kennedy’s letters found a man hungry for connection and dared him to reach for something he never thought possible.
Love. Affection. Community.
Pausing, I lift my head and meet Kennedy’s lust-filled eyes. “I love you, baby.”
Her gaze softens as she lowers a hand to cup my cheek. “I love you, too, and so does this baby. You’re going to make a great daddy.”
I drop a tender kiss on her abdomen, picturing our child safely swaddled inside, and feel a rush of emotion. The two most important people in my life are right here.
It’s a privilege to be loved by them. To protect them.
And I will never take that for granted.