Epilogue
VANESSA
It’s been three months since I graduated with my master’s degree in addiction counseling from CSU.
Although I’ve passed the Colorado state boards and I’m legally allowed to practice, I still have thousands of clinical hours to complete before I’m fully licensed.
I found an addiction center desperately in need of counselors in downtown Loveland, only a four-block walk from the Royal Bastard’s clubhouse.
They hired me immediately after graduation.
The work is challenging, yet rewarding when I’m able to help someone get sober. It makes the long hours worthwhile. I like to imagine my grandpa and parents in heaven smiling down on me for making a real difference in people’s lives.
My services have been putting a real damper on Kenny the narcs dealer’s sales, but Cupid gave him a different job—keeping watch on the neighborhood and reporting back to the MC with any suspicious behavior. We’re breaking the toxic cycle together.
So many positive changes have been happening in our lives, some bigger than I ever could have dreamed…
The windows are open, letting the cool summer evening breeze sweep through the apartment.
I lay on the couch with my head in Cupid’s lap.
He plays with my hair, twirling it around his fingers absentmindedly as he reads a book in his other hand.
His dark frame glasses are low on his nose, giving him a distinguished look far beyond his years.
He’s also shirtless, giving me plenty of eye candy to drool over.
We listen to a song about the changing of seasons on the record player. The bittersweet words make me mourn the home I once shared with my grandpa and cherish the home I’m building now with Cupid.
It’s not just a home we’re building…
My hand cradles my lower abdomen where my skin is tightening yet not quite showing a visible bump.
We only learned I was expecting a month ago after I realized I had missed my period two months in a row.
At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about being pregnant this early in our relationship.
I’ve never opposed having children, but we’re only starting our honeymoon phase.
All my apprehension melted away when I showed Cupid the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Elated, he scooped me into his arms, kissing me stupid, and telling me what a great mom I’ll be to our little hellion on the way.
Now, I’m gushing over this baby, knowing his or her daddy loves them to pieces already.
I’m twelve weeks along. We broke the joyful news to the crew yesterday at dinner in the restaurant.
The brothers went wild, excited for a biker legacy to be born into the club.
As if that announcement wasn’t enough joy, Cupid dropped to one knee in front of the crew and placed a classic round garnet ring on my finger, stating the stone symbolizes the deepest and all-consuming form of love, much like what the god Cupid felt for Psyche.
No, he didn’t ask if I would marry him. Why would he?
I’m already his ole lady and tied myself to him in every way a couple can.
He just kissed my hand after slipping the ring on and told the room to be at the courthouse on Friday to witness us exchange vows.
I thought the walls would crumble with how loud the crew cheered to our upcoming nuptials.
By tomorrow afternoon, I will be Missus Vanessa Amor, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
I let out a deep, contented sigh, smiling to myself.
Cupid looks up from his book, placing it aside to dote on me. “What is it, Butterfly? Are you feeling nauseous again? Do you want me to bring you some saltines and fizzy soda?”
I turn onto my side to face him, my heart doing a little happy dance in my chest. “I’m fine, hubby.”
Cupid’s hand stills in my hair, a smirk tugging at his full lips. “Oh, I like that pet name, Butterfly. After we marry tomorrow, I expect you to be screaming it when I’m under your dress.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I see someone has been fantasizing about our wedding.”
“I’ve been fantasizing about it since the moment you drove by me on your Harley and winked,” he admits unabashed, giving me the most swoon-worthy, panty-dropping smile.
Feeling sassy, I run my fingers along the outline of his cock in his jeans. “Who says it needs to be a fantasy?”
Cupid tenses. “Butterfly, don’t tease me. I don’t want to do anything if you’re not feeling up to it.”
The last six weeks, I was miserable, dealing with morning sickness at all times of the day. We went from having sex nearly every day to once a week, due to me getting sick.
However, in the last few days the queasiness has mellowed and my libido has returned with full force. I want my man—now.
To show him I’m being serious, I reach for his belt buckle, slowly undoing it. “I’ve been feeling better lately, good enough to take my man inside of me.”
Not wasting a second, Cupid sits me upright, slipping out from under me.
He swiftly stands, stripping out of his jeans and boxer briefs before I can blink, standing in front of me like a gorgeous Roman god.
With steady hands, he takes the bottom hem of my maxi dress and slowly peels it over my head, leaving me in only my panties.
His eyes hood with dark desire as he slips his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and tugs them down my legs.
He lifts the undergarment to his nose, inhaling. “Mmm. I can smell your arousal. You’re making my dick ache.”
No doubt. His enormous cock is fully erect, standing tall and proud in a way that defies gravity.
I expect him to take us to the bedroom, but he surprises me when he positions himself on top of me, holding himself up on his forearms to keep his crushing weight off my belly.
My fingers run over the contours of his chest and abs, loving the way his muscles flex under my touch. “We’re not going to the bedroom?”
“I’m not risking moving you in case it disturbs your stomach. It’s been weeks since you initiated sex. Those are too high stakes to gamble my chances away.”
My thighs drop open, letting him settle between my legs. His length nudges my opening.
He trails his fingers over my collarbone, down between the valley of my breasts, moving lower. I moan when his fingers slip between my wet folds.
“Christ, you’re soaked.” He groans, lifting his fingers to his mouth and sucking my juices off the tips.
“It’s been a while. My pussy is dripping for joy,” I tease with a giggle.
Cupid barks a laugh. “Same with my dick.”
My chuckles die off the moment he pushes into me, filling me in the way only he can. My eyes roll closed as I arch my back to take him deeper inside of me.
“Fuck, Butterfly,” he says, running his hands over me.
Not wanting to miss the show, I open my eyes to drink in my husband losing himself in me. The tendons in his neck strain against his skin with each deep thrust.
He bends, taking my lips with his in a soul-searing kiss. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you more,” I murmur on a moan. “You feel so good.”
His muscled thighs slap against the back of mine with each punch of his hips, steadily increasing. His Jacob’s ladder only emphasizes each ridge of his girth, adding additional pleasure to the ache growing inside of me.
I swear this man knows how close I am based on my breathing alone. As soon as I pant, he’s quickening his pace, pushing me closer to the edge.
My fingers dig into his back, needing him closer, skin on skin. Sweat builds between us, pluming the air with our musk. I breathe him in, wishing I could bottle up his scent to wear on me always.
Our moans grow louder than the record playing, possibly reaching the ears of pedestrians below. I don’t give one shit if anyone can hear us right now. Let them hear how well my man pleasures me. Let them hear the way he claims me.
My orgasm has me crying out Cupid’s name, my insides clenching down hard around his girth. Cupid roars his release, his body jerking off beat from the suddenness of it.
Sweaty and sated, we hold each other, lazily kissing each other down from the high.
“I love you, Butterfly,” Cupid says, his eyes holding mine.
Using my fingertip, I trace his lips, my heart so full I feel I could burst with happiness. “I love you more.”
“Not a chance.”
“There may be a slight chance,” I say, needling him. It’s always fun provoking Cupid, especially when it leads to sexy times.
He raises his eyebrows, his dick growing hard again inside me. “Wanna bet?”
“If you insist,” I say with a smile I can’t contain. It’s hard not to smile when I get my way with him. “Round two, here we come.”
Cupid chuckles, realizing I played him. “I can’t even complain. Sex is a reward, and being with you is winning in life.”
He kisses me, showing me exactly how much we both won in life.
And the Broody Cupid Biker and his Baddie Biking Butterfly lived happily ever after.