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“Is this what you need?” he asks, wrapping his huge hands around my hips and slowly rocking me up and down his length.
“Yes, oh god,” I moan when he pushes my hips back and thrusts up into me from below.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight like this,” he purrs, holding my hips firmly enough that I’ll have bruises but not tight enough that I’ll care.
“More,” I beg, clamping my internal muscles as I slowly slip up and down his hard cock.
“Jesus, Etta,” he snarls. “Fuck, I missed you so damn much. I love you.”
“Love you,” I pant, feeling my orgasm starting to build inside of me. “Oh god.”
Guiding my movements, he thrusts up into me as he pulls me down to meet him, hitting that spot inside of me that both hurts and feels freaking amazing at the same time. The moment I start to come, he sits up and tips me backward until I end up beneath him, his huge body covering mine. Grabbing one of my legs, he lifts it over his hip, pulls back, and slams into me, making a fresh surge of pleasure explode inside of me.
Gritting his teeth, he fucks me hard and deep, not stopping until his dick swells and jerks, pumping me full of his hot cum. “Fuck, yes, four days since I filled his greedy little cunt with my cum, I want you so full you’ll be pregnant with triplets by the time I’m done.”
I’d like to think I’m used to his dirty talk by now, but my cheeks still heat, and I have to fight the urge to look away whenever he talks about getting me pregnant. I know we both like it when he tells me he’s going to breed me or fuck his baby into me. But I’m starting to hope that maybe one day he actually will.
The more time I spend with the Barnetts and their tribe of kids, the more I hope that one day my body will cooperate and I’ll grow a baby Oz inside of me. There’s no sign of that time being this month, but who knows? Maybe eventually it’ll happen.
When our ragged breaths settle, Oz stares down at me for a long moment before he dips his head and presses his lips to mine. “You’re such a good girl, I love you so much, Etta.”
It doesn’t matter how often he tells me—and he tells me often—I still get a thrill hearing him say he loves me, and I know that even though it’s crazy, it’s still true. I don’t know if it was fate, or destiny, or just dumb luck that brought us to each other, but I’m so glad that whatever force was in charge directed me to Rockhead Point and him.
Two hours later, and I’m on my eighth orgasm and fourth round of sex. I’m sticky, sore, and exhausted, and loving every minute of it. Our reunions after not seeing each other for days always seem to turn into frantic days in bed while we gorge on each other, making up for lost time.
A low growl gurgles from my stomach, and I laugh, placing my hand over my belly like it’ll somehow stifle the sound.
“You’re hungry,” Oz says, flashing me the same consternated expression he always gets when he thinks he’s not taking good enough care of me.
“I’m fine, we can eat soon,” I whisper, pulling his face down to me and kissing him.
“We can pick up where we left off after I feed you,” he growls, in that tone that I know brooks no arguments.
“Oz,” I whine needily.
“Etta.” My name is a warning, but I don’t heed it, pushing myself up off the bed, pressing my breasts into his chest, and wrapping my arms around his neck.
He never pushes me away when I go to him, instead, he curls his arms behind my back and then lifts me with him as he shuffles to the end of the bed and stands with me still in his arms.
“Food first, then we’ll go back to bed for the rest of the day, okay?”
I nod.
“Did you get all your work done yesterday?” he checks.
“Yep, I have posts scheduled for today and tomorrow, so other than checking and responding to emails, I’m all yours.”
“Yes, you are,” he growls playfully, nipping at my neck as he carries me down the stairs and drops me naked onto the kitchen counter.
I squeak when my bare butt hits the cold marble.
“Sorry, Little One, I should have grabbed you one of my shirts,” Oz says, chuckling. “I’ll go fetch you something to keep that cute butt warm until I fuck it later.”
“What?” I gasp.
Instead of answering, Oz smirks, then jogs out of the kitchen, his still semi-hard cock bouncing with each step. Gobsmacked, I watch his tight ass as he bounds up the stairs.
A knock at the front door has me frozen to the spot. Our friends all know not to bother trying to speak to us for at least the first day after Oz gets off shift. After Warrick let himself into the house and almost walked in on Oz fucking me bent over the dining table, the word spread fast that our house was off limits for at least the first twenty-four hours.
