Talk Wordy To Me (His Curvy Librarian Book 1), Frankie Love [knowledgeable books to read .txt] 📗

I need to fuck my wife nice and hard.

She’s so close right now, her juices coating my fingers and her core squeezing me desperately. But I’m a greedy bastard and I want her first orgasm as a married woman to be with my cock buried deep inside her.

So I pull back amid her whines and complaints.

“I’m so close,” she says, reaching for me.

“Baby, I’m gonna make you come so many times tonight, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

I roll her onto her back and she lets out surprised, pleased yelp. I make quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress, and then I peel it down her shoulders, past her curvy hips and over her plump thighs. I unclasp the lacy white bra she’s wearing and take that off her too, until she’s in nothing but those crotchless lace panties—the perfect mix of innocence and lust—and, of course, the red Mary Janes.

I lick my way back up to her, from her calves to her inner thighs, over the supple curve of her ass, and up to the small of her back, where my scruff tickles her and she presses her ass upward against me as she laughs.

Good God, I need her.

Now.

“Come here,” I growl, then grab her by the hips and flip her over and pull her onto my lap all in one swift, hungry motion.

Cassidy’s straddling me, my cock pressing against her slick, hot sex. She bites her lip as she looks into my eyes—my gorgeous goddamn wife, all mine. Then she cracks a smile and grinds against me. “Is that a hardcover I feel, or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’m just happy to see you,” I say. “Always.”

And then I lift her up and plunge her down on my cock. That puts an end to her little jokes as she’s once again speechless. Her mouth drops open and her eyelids shutter as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts riding my cock.

“Oh Chuck,” she moans. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” I tell her. “Incredible.”

I’ve got her hips in my hands, thrusting along with her, and I don’t know what I was thinking all those days and weeks that I wasted telling myself I couldn’t have anything serious with her.

This woman is my life.

My everything.

My always.

We come together, her pussy milking every last drop of hot seed from my cock, and I can’t wait to do it all over again.

Epilogue Two

Cassidy

Five Years Later…

I’m curled up on a great big beanbag chair, my daughter Clara in my lap, when I hear the front door open and Charles shouts, “Knock knock, anybody home?”

“Great Grandpa’s here!” Clara shouts.

She knocks The Very Hungry Caterpillar out of my hands in her rush to get downstairs and I laugh. I guess that’s the end of reading time with Mommy, but at three, Clara is already ahead of her age range, anyway. Chuck and I read to her every single day and she takes great pride in telling everyone she meets that her name is Clara, spelled C-L-A-R-A.

Honestly, I’ve never been more in love in my whole life than I was the day our sweet girl was born.

And now, five years after our wedding day, Chuck and I have everything I could ask for. An adorable daughter. A beautiful home. The most doting grandparents and great-grandparents on the face of the earth. And most importantly, each other.

I follow Clara downstairs, where we find Great Grandpa Charles in the foyer with Evelyn. They got married not long after Chuck and I tied the knot—nobody in the McArthur family wastes time once they know what they want, and Charles proposed to Evelyn just as soon as he’d recovered sufficiently from his stroke to get down on one knee.

Now, he’s perfectly healthy again and Evelyn does a wonderful job of making sure he stays that way—watching his diet, refilling his prescriptions, going for long walks with him to make sure he gets his exercise. It’s everything Chuck used to do for him, so now all he has to worry about is spoiling our little girl.

Speaking of which…

“Charles, what is that?” I ask when I catch sight of a giftwrapped box on the entryway table.

“Just a little something for the best little girl in the world,” he says, lifting Clara into his arms.

“For me?” she says, her green eyes lighting up.

Chuck says she’s going to be trouble when she’s older—she already knows how to wrap Great Grandpa around her little finger, and she acts surprised and delighted every single time he brings her a present… which happens to be every single time he visits.

“It’s not even a special occasion,” I object, knowing it’ll do no good. “We’re just having dinner.”

“We’re great grandparents,” Evelyn says. “We don’t need a special occasion to bring presents.”

Charles sets Clara down and Evelyn hands her the package. She tears it open in about two seconds flat, then shrieks with delight. “Look, Mommy, it’s letters!”

“It’s an alphabet puzzle board,” Charles explained. “Because we want our girl to be the smartest kid in kindergarten.”

I laugh. “That’s not for another two years.”

“Well, she’s got plenty of time to get the upper hand, then,” he says. “Right, Snickerdoodle?”

“Right,” Clara says, popping up from the floor. He holds out his hand and she takes it, and we all follow our noses to the back yard, where Chuck is manning the grill.

He’s wearing a cheesy ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron that I bought him when we moved into the house. This place is the perfect blend of Chuck’s old place, with a view of Golden Creek, and my parents’ farmhouse, cozy and filled with family. And the view I’ve got right now—of my husband crouching down and scooping our daughter into his arms—is the best part of all.

Charles and Evelyn go over to the outdoor dining table to set out the plates and silverware, and I go over to Chuck.

“Are they done yet?” Clara is asking