Bonus Scene
IAN
The house is finally, blissfully quiet.
It took both of us an hour to wrangle Cara into her “big girl” bed.
She insisted on three stories, then an encore performance of You Are My Sunshine while she sang the harmony, God help us all.
By the time we reached the door, she’d already needed to use the potty twice, which, if I’m being honest, is pretty on brand for a Wednesday night.
Then it took us another forty minutes to get Imogen to stay down in the baby bed. At thirteen months old, she’s almost ready for a big girl bed but we’ve been resisting. Not wanting to admit she’s no longer our little baby.
Sage handled bedtime like a champ, scooping the toddler up with a laugh and a kiss and zero judgment.
She’s the only person I know who can juggle a wailing infant, a sticky preschooler, and a dog with a vendetta against all area rugs, and still look at me like I’m the hero when I finally lumber in to help.
Now, both kids are asleep, the dog’s snoring in her princess bed, and I’m standing at the top of the stairs, dead on my feet and running on fumes.
My shirt is untucked and wrinkled, probably has some ketchup on the sleeve, and my hair sticks up in three separate directions from where Imogen’s tiny fists have tried to scalp me all evening.
My back feels like it’s been through the spin cycle, and my brain is a static hum of everything I have to get done at work tomorrow.
I push the door open, careful not to make it creak, and step into the darkness of our bedroom. The only light is a thin line of amber leaking from the crack in the bathroom door, casting faint shadows over the white cotton duvet.
And Sage is waiting for me.
She’s stretched out on top of the covers, completely bare, her pale skin almost glowing in the dark. Her hair’s loose, fanned across the pillow in wild, gold spirals. She watches me with a slow, lazy smile, arms folded under her head, the picture of patience and fucking perfection.
My brain short-circuits. I stand in the doorway, slack-jawed and starved, and suddenly, all my fucking exhaustion disappears. Instantly.
She raises her eyebrows, not moving, just letting me soak her in.
Her curves are soft and lush against the white sheets.
Every dip and rise, every scar and freckle, and the new, faint stretch marks tracing her hips all hit me with a rush of heat and pride.
I still can’t get over the fact that she’s all fucking mine.
I can’t help the noise that comes out of me, equal parts groan and laugh. “I have been dreaming about exactly this moment all fucking day long.”
Sage’s smile widens, slow and feline. “Then stop stalling and get the heck over here.”
I shake my head, my hand tight on the door frame, holding me upright. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” I growl.
Her cheeks go a little pink, and she laughs, but it’s not the usual sharp, sassy laugh she gives the rest of the world. It’s just for me, low and warm, pure pleasure.
I peel my shirt off and toss it on the chair, then toe off my jeans and step out of them, every muscle in my body complaining, but I make myself keep my eyes on her as I cross the room.
When I sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dips under my weight, and she shifts to meet me, still smiling. I cup her face in both hands, loving how small she is compared to me, how perfectly her jaw fits between my palms.
Goddamn, I love her. I lean in and crush my mouth to hers, swallowing Sage’s gasp as she melts for me.
The second her lips part, I’m fucking done for.
My tongue slides deep, and she lets me in, sighing like she’s been waiting forever for this exact moment.
I tangle my tongue with hers, greedy and rough, then slow it down just to hear her whimper. Fuck, I’ll never get enough.
Her whole body arches closer, needy. I drag her in, palms sliding along her jaw until I’ve got one hand fisted in her hair and the other gripping her hip.
Sage trembles under me, soft and perfect, so goddamn gorgeous it almost hurts to touch her.
She tastes fucking sweet, like honey and home, and I can’t stop myself from drinking her in, one deep kiss after another.
Her bare skin is hot under my hands, and those curves have my name all over them. I trail kisses down her jaw, suck hard at her neck just to see the flush light up her cheeks. Every time she shivers, I know I’m doing it right.
She’s mine. Only mine. And I’m going to prove it to her, slow and filthy, until her voice is raw from screaming my name.
She slides her hands up my arms and over my shoulders, tracing the muscles with her nails.
“I missed you today,” I murmur, my lips brushing her jaw, her ear. “You have no idea.”
She turns her face, and for a second, our noses bump. “I think I do,” she whispers. “I missed you, too.” She smells like lavender and citrus and the tiniest hint of baby shampoo, and I want to laugh but also never let go of her again.
I take my time with her, tracing the shape of her collarbone, the curve of her breast. I know every inch of this body, but it still feels like a fucking miracle every time I touch her. Her nipples go hard as I brush my thumb over them, and she arches into my touch, not shy at all.
My hands keep moving over her stomach, soft and warm, her hips, the generous curve of her thighs. I press a kiss to the faint silver lines crisscrossing her soft belly, and she sucks in a breath, fingers tightening in my hair.
“So fucking beautiful,” I say, and she bites her lip, her eyes soft and hungry. Fuck, I love that look on her. The need. The trust. She has no idea how much I crave her, every fucking curve, every sound she makes for me.
I drop to my knees at the side of the bed and drag her closer, so her ass comes right to the edge. She’s totally exposed, so gorgeous it nearly knocks the breath out of me.
She squirms, just a little, and it goes straight to my cock.
I press my mouth to her knee and start working my way up, kissing along the soft, lush skin inside her thigh.
Her breath stutters, and hell if I don’t get dizzy from the sound.
I take my time. I want her shaking by the time I get to where she wants me most.
I glance up once, just to catch her watching me, pupils blown, chest rising and falling fast. Her fingers grip the sheets tight like she’s bracing for a storm. Damn right, she should.
I spread her thighs wider, my nose skimming her skin, and leave a trail of kisses higher. She trembles and lets out this shaky, hungry gasp, and I fucking love it. My favorite kind of reward.
I get close enough to breathe her in. “You want me to keep going, baby?”
“If you stop, I’ll kick your ass,” she growls. God. I fucking love my wife.
I laugh, low and rough, barely keeping my shit together.
“You’re the boss,” I tell her, and bury my face between her thighs before she can get another word in.
She tastes so fucking good, it makes my eyes roll back in my head.
That addictive, sweet salt hits my tongue, and I lose my mind for a second.
I run my hands over her hips, anchoring her right where I want her, then lick a slow stripe straight up her pussy.
Sage jerks and makes this wild, desperate little sound that goes straight to my cock. Fuck. There’s nothing better than having my wife under me, squirming, begging for more.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” I groan, sucking her clit so hard she almost knees me in the face.
Her thighs clamp around my head, and she moans long and hard.
I want to laugh, but my mouth’s too busy working on her sweet pussy.
She fists both hands in my hair and drags me closer, like she’s afraid I’ll stop. Not a fucking chance.
I tongue her, slow at first just to tease, then ramp it up when she starts panting my name.
“You make me fucking crazy, Sage,” I murmur against her skin.
My hands squeeze her thighs, thumbs stroking the soft, perfect curve of her hips.
I suck her clit, then swirl my tongue around it, loving how she shakes each time I do.
Her breath’s coming fast now, and every sound she makes is a goddamn reward.
And when she starts rocking her hips, chasing the high, I double down and give her exactly what she wants.
I flick my tongue in time with her breaths, rough and relentless, then back off just to hear her whine.
Fuck, nothing gets me off more. My beautiful wife, completely naked and greedy for me, writhing on the sheets like she’ll self-destruct if I stop.
I push two fingers inside her, slow and deep, curling up until I hit that perfect spot that drives her wild. Sage lets out this strangled sound, high and sweet, and digs her nails into my scalp.
“Oh my God, Ian,” she gasps, her voice splintering. Yeah, that’s what I fucking want to hear. No one else gets her like this. Not ever. She’s all goddamn mine.
She goes off like a goddamn rocket, the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
Her whole body arches up, curves tight and trembling, cunt clenching down around my fingers.
Fuck me, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Sage comes hard, screaming my name, her thighs shaking, her nails digging into my scalp like she’s hanging on for dear life.
Yeah, that’s what I fucking want. That sound, that desperation, every perfect inch of her shaking apart because of me.
I keep pumping my fingers, stroking her through every last aftershock. I slow down, let her catch her breath, but I’m not done. Not even close.
I lift up and haul her to the top of the bed. She’s sprawled across the pillows, hair wild, cheeks flushed, breathing like she just ran a marathon. I fucking love it.
I start at her ankle and kiss my way up, taking my time, tasting every inch as I go.
Her skin’s warm and soft, still shivering under my mouth.
Up her thigh, over her hips, stopping to bite and suck a mark on that perfect belly.
She shivers beneath me, the heat in her eyes making my cock ache so bad it’s borderline cruel.
I worship every inch of her, pausing to mouth her soft hips, biting a path straight to heaven.
Her thighs are shaking, her hands desperate in my hair, begging for more. Fuck yeah. That’s what I want.
I line my cock up at her entrance, taking a second just to admire my gorgeous wife.
Sage is spread out, wild hair, flushed skin, tits heaving, eyes begging me to shove inside her and never let go.
She’s soaked. Literally dripping, slick and ready, her pussy is needy for my cock.
I’m so fucking hard I can barely breathe, throbbing, the head already leaking for her.
“Tell me what you want,” I growl, voice coming out gravelly. I drag the tip through her slick folds, smearing her wetness everywhere. She whimpers, hips jerking up, greedy for it, for me.
“I want you to fuck me, Ian.” Christ, her voice is thick and desperate and perfect. “Please.”
Hell yes. That’s my girl.
I press forward slowly, guiding every inch inside her sweet, tight pussy like I’ve got all the time in the world. The stretch is perfect, her walls gripping me fucking tight, sucking me in like she never wants to let go. She moans louder, her nails digging into my arms, dragging me closer.
I sink in all the way, balls deep, and fuck, my eyes cross and roll back into my head.
I drop to the side and pull her over so she’s on top, her knees straddling my hips, hair falling like a golden curtain around us. She looks down at me, her eyes wide and a little wild.
She lifts up and slowly sinks down, her hands braced on my chest. I watch every inch of her, the way her mouth falls open, the flush that starts at her neck and works its way down.
I hold her hips, guiding her, but she sets the pace, moving with a gentle, rolling rhythm that makes my breath stutter. I love watching her take her pleasure, the way she chases it, the way she knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for more.
She leans down and kisses me, mouths open and messy, and we both laugh into it when our teeth clack together. It’s stupid and perfect and so fucking real. I’d take this over a thousand one-night stands, over any fantasy I ever had before her.
I feel her start to tense, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I’m close,” she whispers as her inner muscles flutter around my cock.
Fuck yeah. The feeling nearly puts me out of commission right on the spot. I grab on tight to her hips and rock upward, dragging every inch of my hard cock across those perfect, squeezing muscles. My gorgeous wife clenches down, jaw slack, tits bouncing with every desperate move.
I slam into her just a little harder, loving the way Sage loses control on top of me.
I rub my thumb across her clit, and she moans, loud and needy, sinking down so I bottom out.
She circles her hips, and fuck, the friction is so good I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming.
Not yet. I want to watch her shatter one more time before I lose my fucking mind.
Her body starts to tremble, and I know she’s about to go off for me. I slide one hand up and tweak her nipple, hard. Her thighs clamp around me, pussy milking my cock, and she breaks apart like a fucking dream.
She screams my name as she comes, head thrown back.
When I finally let myself go, it’s with a groan so loud I worry it’ll wake the babies. She slaps a hand over my mouth, giggling, and I bite her fingers, loving the feel of her laughter rumbling against my body.
It doesn’t get any fucking better than this. My wife, sprawled across my chest, hair wild, cheeks flushed, her pussy still squeezing every last drop from my cock. I drag my hand through those gold curls and kiss her until she moans against my mouth. I’m not letting her go for a long, long time.
I could stay like this all night—
And then, right on cue, the damn baby monitor comes alive with a banshee wail.
Sage laughs so hard she nearly falls off the bed. “Less than perfect timing,” she grumbles.
“Our daughters do seem to have it,” I shoot back, even as I already miss the perfect heat of her against me. Another shriek rattles the monitor, this time louder. Imogen’s up, and she’s pissed.
I groan, flop my head back on the pillow, and stare at the ceiling for a beat, hoping Imogen will go back to sleep. Not a fucking chance.
“Race you,” I grumble, but she knows I’ll do it. I love late-night snuggles with my youngest.
I yank on my boxers and a pair of sweats, then I stalk toward the hallway.
Dad duty never takes a break. But as my daughter’s cry blares over the monitor, I realize I wouldn’t trade a second of it. Life doesn’t get any better than this.