Authors: Ahren Sanders
“Devon, I think it’s time you call me Henry.”
I nod and look between him and Shana. Both are glowing to the point of blinding. “I guess your special assignment took a turn?” I ask Shana.
“It took a turn in November. I’m now officially based in Charlottesville, Virginia. I never told anyone.”
“Congratulations, Henry.” Bryce shakes his hand.
“I should be telling you the same thing.”
“We’re lucky men,” Bryce agrees.
Henry’s eyes go to Shana and melt when she leans into his side. I reach over and touch her hand. “We got them,” I whisper, and she nods, squeezing my fingers.
“Okay, I hate to be crass, but I’m doing the wedding thing until I can get my bride alone,” Bryce says, leading me away.
“BRYCE!”
Shana and Henry laugh, and she kisses me on the cheek. “Give him control for a bit. Then show him who’s boss.”
I grin in understanding and let him lead me away. We stay attached all night until the DJ announces it’s time for me to dance with my dad.
When I step into his arms, he leans into my ear and talks softly. “Time to give your old man a break.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the last five weeks, you’ve graduated with honors, turned twenty-one, and gotten married. In less than eight weeks, you’ll be covering the Olympics. Think that’s enough for a while. There’s only so much pride a man can have.”
“You got it, Daddy. After this summer, I’ll be a boring daughter. No more extravagance for a while.”
“Love you, Dev.”
“You too.” I squeeze tight, swaying in his arms until the song ends.
“Can I take over?” Bryce steps up, and Dad gives him my hand.
“This time tomorrow, I’ll have you on an island with no sharing for seven days. Clothing is optional,” he whispers and then starts to nibble on my earlobe.
“Optional? Is it a nude beach?” I tease, and he pinches my ass.
“Not funny.”
“Are we going to leave the room at all? What’s the point of going to Bermuda if we’re going to stay indoors? We could have done that here.”
“We’re going far, far away from all these people. I want my wife to myself with no interruptions.”
“I think we can handle that. I love you, Bryce.”
He lifts my face to his, and his fingers rub the compass around my neck. Then he proceeds to fill my heart with more love than I ever thought possible.
“From the very day you walked through my kitchen door with Nate, I’ve loved you. Growing up, all my dreams centered on you loving me back. The moment our lips touched when I was fifteen years old, I was ruined for anyone else. Even through the time when I cut you out of my life, my heart still beat for you. Moving on was never an option. I know that now.
Thank you for not taking no for an answer and giving me the fairytale every girl dreams of. Your love and support are my lifelines, and without them, I’d be nothing. That may sound pathetic, but now that I’ve experienced the depth of your devotion, there’s no going back. I can only hope that you feel the same passion and adoration from me.
My life is intertwined with yours, and I can’t fully breathe without you. All that matters is that we are together. I’d do anything in the world to see your beautiful blue eyes stare into mine right now. Physically and mentally, my heart craves your touch and the sound of your voice.
Bryce Randolph, you’re the bravest, strongest, and most loving man I’ve ever known, and I’ll be honored to be your wife. Please wake up and marry me.”
“You heard me,” I say breathlessly.
“Every word.” He gives me his signature cocky grin. “And I did as I was told. I woke up and married you. Best decision ever.”
I open my mouth to respond but change my mind. Instead, I start to laugh, knowing I have a lifetime ahead of me with this ridiculously, over-the-top man.
Bryce Randolph
5 years later
Any guilt I have about waking Devon disappears when she rolls over, exposing her naked chest. The cool air causes her nipples to harden instantly, and my cock turns to steel.
Oh yeah, there’s no way I’m getting out of this bed without fucking my wife.
I glance at the clock and determine how much time I have and where to start. Considering last night she let me do whatever I wanted, which included her on her knees screaming into the mattress, I think I’ll take it easy this morning.
Careful not to dip the bed, I shift over her and brace on my elbows at her waist. My mouth licks a trail from her neck down to her breastbone and then back up again. Her hands come to my shoulders, telling me she’s waking up.
“Good morning,” I say softly and suck a nipple deep in my mouth.
She gasps and pulls back, causing me to suck harder. My dick jerks when she moans in her early morning raspy voice. I move to the other side and repeat then slide down her body, kissing every inch of flesh I pass.
Her legs open, welcoming me as I lick around her glistening core, purposely making her wait. She starts to squirm and grips my scalp, trying to direct my mouth.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You know what.”
I grin and rub the three-day old scruff against her sensitive skin. Even after all these years, my girl is still shy. “Tell me.”
She shifts her hip and then wraps her legs around my head. I take mercy and lick her slit then slide my tongue inside. She arches into me as I feast on the taste of her. My hands cup her ass as I change from licking fast and hard to slow and leisurely. I know the instant her orgasm starts to build when she pushes me deeper. My thumb finds her clit and rubs across the sensitive area gently.
She tightens her legs and uses a pillow to muffle her cries as she comes, panting hard. I kiss softly around her now swollen lips and move up her body. My dick is screaming for relief, threatening to explode. I know from experience it won’t be long the second I slide into her wet heat. We both moan.
The sensation of her warmth gripping me makes me feel like a teenage boy, trying my best not to blow. She knows what she’s doing and purposely clutches her muscles, teasing me.
I stop all movement and take a few deep breaths, needing to clear my mind. She rakes her nails up my back until she reaches the back of my head then tilts my face to hers. She grins wickedly and bucks against me, causing a groan.
“You started it,” she says seductively. “Maybe I should finish it.”
I try to clear my head and gain some sense of control. It’s useless as she rotates her hips then drives into me from below, forcing me so deep she moans in satisfaction.
“Look down, Bryce. Tell me what you see.”
“Fuck, Devon, stop.”
“Tell me,” she demands.
I lower my eyes and then take her wrists, placing them over her head and holding her down. “Me, inside you, as far as I can go. Your fucking pussy sucking me in so hard I want to pound into you.”
“What’s stopping you?” She throws her legs around my waist, and her green eyes shimmer with lust and longing. She’s challenging me to see how long I can hold my control.
I concentrate so hard my heart thunders in my chest, but she’s too sexy for me to fight anymore. My hips surge into her hard, earning a throaty whimper. That alone causes me to lose my mind. There is nothing tender about the way I thrust back and forth. She squirms under me, trying to free her hands, and I give in, loosening my hold.
She surprises me by using all her strength and twisting our hips so I fall to the side and then to my back. She straddles me with a wide grin and then stops moving, running her fingers over my chest, down my stomach, and then over her own thighs. One hand braces on my abs while the other reaches behind and cups my balls.
It’s my turn to thrash as she starts to move. The rocking motion is in rhythm to her hand squeezing, and I have ten seconds to make a decision. I knife up with all the strength I can and grip her neck, crushing her mouth to mine. My hips shift, and I close my eyes, praying she’s close.
She doesn’t disappoint and shoots off at the same time the orgasm rips through me. We swallow each other’s cries as I pump into her. She flexes hard, and I’m pretty sure I come again from the friction alone.
We hold tight, regaining our breath, as I caress her back and kiss along her neckline.
“Good morning.” She smiles against my shoulder.
“Da-da-da-da-da,” sounds through the room, and I look at the video monitor to see our two-year old baby girl standing in her crib, swinging her stuffed bunny.
Devon moves off me, but I tug her back and slip the covers over her. “We’ll get you up for breakfast.”
Her face fills with a look of love that I’d give anything to see every minute of the day. “Thanks,” she whispers and buries her head into my pillow.
I pop into the bathroom, pull on some shorts, brush my teeth quickly, then grab the box out from under the counter and put it by the sink.
When I get to Emma’s crib, she squeals and gives me a toothy, slobbery grin. Her eyes glimmer the same shade as Devon’s, and my heart clenches. She’s a clone of my wife in every way except for her dark hair. I change her quickly and put her down, watching her waddle until she breaks out into a run.
Her little voice fills the house as I follow closely, knowing exactly where she’s headed. As soon as she finds the closed door, she sits and looks at me expectantly. I walk quickly to the kitchen, get her milk and the baggie of cheerios, and then go back to her.
The second the door opens, she bolts to the oversized leather chair and crawls up. I scoot her in my lap and give her the first round of breakfast.
We sit in silence for a few minutes until she raises her eyes to me, giving me the sign. It’s time.
Ever since Emma could crawl, she loves to be in Devon’s office. We started a small tradition about six months ago. On the Saturday mornings I’m home, we sit in the office together, and I tell stories of all the pictures on the wall. This isn’t the only room in the house covered in frames, but it’s the room Devon spends most of her time in, so she’s lined almost every inch, including her desk, with photos of our life.
“Want to start at the beginning, little angel?”
She screeches her reply.
“This is your mom and me our first Christmas together.” I pick her up, take her to the wall, and point out Devon and I in Aspen. My mind travels back to that day and thinking she couldn’t get any more beautiful. But she proved me wrong through the years.
I go through the motions of pointing out every detail to the squiggly baby in my arms.
Devon’s graduation—both of them—and all the pictures of family surrounding her.
My first deployment, when the whole crew came, and Quinn snapped a shot of Devon holding me so tightly I felt like she crawled into my skin.
Devon, Crystal, Quinn, and Shana at the Olympics with the Gold Medal winning gymnastics team. All their smiles are so big, you’d think they won the medals.
The news crew covering the return of my ship into port. The cameraman getting the perfect shot of Devon running to me as I braced for the impact.
Devon and Shana in the hospital with Shana’s newborn son in her arms.
Quinn and Devon at Quinn’s wedding the week after Grad School Graduation.
All the girls at Crystal and Morgan’s wedding in Jamaica.
Devon’s first nationally recognized article on the US families affected by terrorism.
Devon and Quinn’s first award–winning piece on child prostitution rings.
All of us at Nate and Jamie’s wedding three years ago.
Quinn and Dean holding their son.
When we get to the eight by ten frames hanging over the fireplace, I stop and take Emma’s little hand and point.
“That’s your mama and daddy on our wedding day.” Then I turn. “And this, little girl, is the day you were born. Look at that princess.”
My eyes get misty at the portrait of the three of us in the hospital bed. Emma was so small and wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket.
“That’s also the day I lost my mind because I agreed to name you Emma Quinn. But when your mama looked at me with tears in her eyes, full of so much love, I’d have agreed to anything.”
Emma giggles and slaps me playfully.
“Okay, little one, we need to brace. Your mama is going to get up any second, and when she sees the present I left on the bathroom counter, she’s going to flip. So I think we should start the French toast now.”
I sit Emma in her high chair with some cut up bananas and hurry to get Devon’s favorite breakfast ready. Emma and I both go still when the shout roars through the house.
“BRYCE DAVID RANDOLPH!”
“Oh yeah, I’m in trouble. Stick with me, baby girl.” Emma spits and wriggles excitedly at Devon’s voice.
“What the H-E-L-L is this?” Devon waves the box at me from the kitchen doorway.
“Babe, we’ve used them before,” I say seriously. We should buy stock in those little sticks after the dozen Devon used with Emma.
“Don’t be cute. You used to give me diamonds and pearls. Now, you give me pregnancy tests?”
“It’s really a formality. I already know the answer.” I shrug and plate the toast.
“How can you possibly think you know more than me when it comes to my own body?”
I hang my head and debate how far to take this. When I peek back at Devon, it’s undeniable. Even aggravated, she’s glowing.
“You really want to know?”
“Absolutely!”
I go to her and lean into her ear, shielding Emma. “Babe, your tits are so sensitive they’re always hard.” I run the tip of a finger over one to prove my point. “This morning, the second my tongue circled your nipple, you moaned with pleasure and pain. The last two days, you’ve let me fuck you everywhere, practically begging for it. We left a dent in the bedroom wall. Then, this morning, you took control and rode me so hard I came twice.”
“Oh my.” She braces on my chest, and I can tell she’s turned on again.
“See, you’re ready to go at just my words.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and she clutches my neck, rubbing a thumb over my jaw. Understanding washes over her face. “Are we ready for another baby?”
“Been ready since we left the hospital with Emma. And when it’s confirmed, we need to start looking for that house you mentioned.”