Epilogue
RACHEL
Our three-year-old was asleep. I checked on him before heading straight to our bedroom—the same bedroom where I first met Quinn four years ago. Four and a half, to be exact.
I would’ve never imagined that night, when he caught me in his bed, that someday I’d be sleeping in that very bed—and we’d be raising our family in this small two-bedroom cabin.
But that would change soon. I was four months pregnant, and we were already building a four-bedroom cabin farther up the mountain. The extra bedroom would be my office, but if we ever decided to have a third child, it could easily be repurposed. I’d mostly work from the screened porch off the back of the cabin, anyway.
The main bedroom door was closed—a change from how we’d kept it before we were parents. We’d gotten pregnant soon after moving in together and married a couple of months later. I wanted to be able to wear a wedding dress before I was showing.
I turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open, peeking inside. My husband was sprawled out on the bed, asleep. I could see that from here. He’d kicked off the covers, and even in the dim light I could make out his perfect body—nude except for a pair of boxer shorts.
I looked back over my shoulder as though our son, Elias, might have crept down the hall. But he never did that. He’d slept through the night since the age of six months. I had a feeling we wouldn’t be so lucky with our second child.
I stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind me, careful not to wake my husband. Then I stripped off the sweater and jeans I’d worn for ladies’ night. Quinn and I took turns. Once a week, he did poker night and I watched Elias, and Quinn returned the favor when I met up with the girls.
I couldn’t drink, of course, and I also couldn’t tell anyone why—but nobody asked questions. They probably speculated behind my back about the water with lemon I’d ordered, and that was fine. I’d be sharing the good news soon, anyway.
By the time I got to the edge of the bed, I was mostly naked. I wore only my panties, and I slid those down, letting them drop to my ankles. My body was ready for him. I’d been thinking about doing this since midway through dinner at the new wine bar and tapas restaurant in the next town over.
I winced as the mattress moved under my weight, but he didn’t stir. His sleep-breathing remained the same. Quinn was a heavy sleeper, just like our son. I was the opposite.
I reached over and touched him, stroking him through the thin fabric of his boxers. His cock immediately jumped to life. I kept stroking, but after a minute or so, I had to feel him. So, I parted the slit in his underwear and pulled out his cock, marveling that he’d gotten so hard, so fast.
His sleep-breathing had stopped, but he still didn’t move. Well, aside from the part of him that was pulsing against my hand. Maybe that was my imagination, though.
I gave him long, bold strokes, not taking my eyes off his face. It was dark in the room, but a small sliver of light peeked through the blinds on either side of the bed.
I hadn’t realized I’d moved my gaze to his cock until I heard his head shift on the pillow—a subtle swish. But I was so tuned in to him, it may as well have been the sound of fireworks going off.
“You’re home,” he said.
Definitely not the words I would have expected—not considering what I was doing to him. But I nodded and said, “It’s after ten.”
The wine bar was open later than that, but most of the women in our group had husbands and kids to go home to. We didn’t mind wrapping things up early.
“Pregnancy hormones again?” he asked with a smile.
He loved my pregnancy hormones. I couldn’t get enough of him. That was always the case, but when I was pregnant, I was hornier than usual. Four or five times a day wouldn’t be too much—although I’d just gone through a morning sickness phase, and that had cramped our style for a while.
“I want to try something,” I said.
It was a bucket list item. I’d been warned it probably wouldn’t be all that good, but I wanted to see. I sat up and tugged on his boxers.
“Trust me?” I asked.
“With everything I have.”
Even in the dim lighting, I could tell his eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t wait to see what I had in store.
I wiggled around until my feet were near the headboard. He seemed to get from that what I was up to, helping me straddle his face. Then I bent over him, putting my mouth at his cock and immediately taking him into my mouth.
Sixty-nine. That was what they called it. I’d been curious about it since I first heard the term as a teenager. I never figured it was something I would try, but with Quinn, I felt free to explore my sexuality. I felt free to be me.
At first, I worried he wasn’t going to join in. Maybe he was against this idea. I probably should have cleared it with him first. We discussed everything, but I’d never once mentioned wanting to try this particular position.
Then I felt his fingers slide inside me, testing my wetness. I was more than wet enough. My underwear had been soaked by the time I took them off. But when his tongue made contact with my clit, I suddenly understood why people had complaints about this position. It was definitely hard to concentrate on pleasuring him when what he was doing to me felt so good.
My blowjob was sloppy, but if he minded, he didn’t show it. Maybe that was why it wasn’t hard at all for him to concentrate.
He flicked his tongue over me—fast and unrelenting—knowing that would get me to orgasm faster than anything. He seemed to sense that I needed this. No drawing it out. No torturing me. Getting me there fast so I could have some relief.
I needed this release.
Within seconds, heat was spreading through my body—up my chest, toward my neck—followed by tingles down my spine. I gasped as my pussy walls contracted and expanded, which led me to finally release Quinn’s cock altogether. I was afraid I’d squeeze it or bite it if I didn’t let go.
But as soon as the waves subsided, I knew it was time to give my husband pleasure. I crawled off him and eyed his erection. His boxer shorts were still around his thighs. I gave Quinn a sly smile and began crawling in that direction.
He put a hand on my ass. “Don’t face away from me. I want to watch.”
We’d done the reverse cowgirl position before, and it was hot. But yes—my husband liked to watch. In fact, I stared at the blinds next to us and climbed off the bed, opening them to let in some of the moonlight. Just enough light to make it easier to see his expressions and for him to fully see me.
I thought about removing his boxer shorts, but why bother? We were both going straight to sleep after this. So I left them where they were and climbed on top of him, slowly lowering myself until he filled me completely. He ran his hands over my hips, up to my waist, then to my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples as I began moving.
I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations. He’d want me to come again. He’d wait until it happened.
The good news was that I didn’t feel completely satisfied. I thought I was, just seconds ago, but my arousal was already building again. I was returning to the state I’d been in when I first walked through that bedroom door.
While he continued to tease my nipples, I moved my hand to my clit and began rubbing it, following the rhythm of our movements. He’d probably have to close his eyes—the sight of me doing that tended to push him faster toward the edge. But knowing how much he liked watching only turned me on more.
Soon I was heating up again, that swollen bud getting slicker with each movement. I began moving faster on him, and my finger sped up to match. His deep, quick breaths filled the room, joined by the occasional unintentional squeak from my throat. It was hard to stay quiet when we were doing this, but we’d become pretty good at it.
He squeezed both nipples between his fingers and thumbs, and that did it. I let out a loud gasp as my orgasm took over once again. I still had my eyes closed, but when I heard a grunt from him, I knew he was getting close too.
As my movements slowed, Quinn took over, pumping in and out of me at a speed that tripled what I’d been doing. “Fuck,” he whispered.
And then he stilled—his butt rising off the bed as he pressed deep inside me. I opened my eyes and watched him. His eyes were closed, his jaw tense, his hands still on my breasts. I felt his cock throbbing against my walls and knew he was shooting his seed deep into me, filling me as he always did.
Finally, he relaxed. We both were spent. Exhausted. Too tired to move.
I fell onto the bed, dropping onto my usual spot—the same spot I’d been sleeping in that first night. The night he discovered a naked stranger sleeping in his bed.
He pulled up his boxers, but he didn’t drift off to sleep immediately. First, he rolled over onto his side and put his hand on my belly.
“How’s our lima bean doing?”
We’d been told our baby was the shape of a lima bean early on in my first pregnancy. We were well past the lima bean stage now, but it was an affectionate name he’d continue to use until we picked the baby’s actual name, which we’d do after the gender reveal in a few weeks.
“She’s been pretty active today,” I said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Maybe you should go have dinner with your friends every night if you’re going to come home that riled up.”
“I’m riled up all the time,” I said. “It’s just about finding a few private moments each day to…you know.”
“I know.” He smiled. “But we do pretty well.”
We did. We’d meet up for lunch while Elias was at preschool, and of course, make love before bed every night. But tonight had been especially sexy. We definitely needed to try new positions regularly to keep things fun and adventurous. Although even missionary-style lovemaking was hot as hell when it was with this guy.
“Have I told you today that I love you?” he asked.
I stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully, then nodded. “This morning before we left. And you texted it to me this afternoon.”
He laughed. “Was that this afternoon? Maybe it’s the fact that I slept a few minutes before you got home, but that seems like days ago.”
“I love you too.”
We gave each other a slow, sweet kiss before I climbed out of bed to close the blinds. Then I crawled back in, pulling the sheets over me. He wrapped his arms around me, and I drifted off to sleep, smiling.
In the final moments before sleep claimed me, I remembered how he’d seemed scary when he first discovered me in his bed. Who would have imagined being directionally challenged could lead me into the arms of the man of my dreams—my soulmate?
Carter finds a beautiful woman watching him while he’s swimming in his pool…naked. Find out what happens next in Fearless Mountain Man, Book 5 in the Seduction Summit Warriors series.