Page 107 of Whiskey Proposal

I lower myself enough for the tip of his cock to push inside. I stop. “I love you too.” Just as happiness fills his face, I sink all the way down.

“Fuck. Me.” He rears up and tangles his hands in my hair. “Say it again,” he says on a growl.

“I love you.” I slide up his length and slam back down. He fills me and hits all the right spots. “I love you.” I do it again, rocking up and taking him all again. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It comes out as a chant.

“I fucking love you.” He rolls his shoulders off the seat and I ride him. “You’re mine. All mine, and that’s how it’ll always be.”

“Yes.” Always. Please.

My thighs clench around him. A long moan rips from me. How can I be so close to an orgasm just from this? But we’re crammed together and he just told me he loves me. The best man I’ve ever known, the one who makes me feel safe and wanted, loves me.

“Mine,” he says, kissing my neck and nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth.

“Yours.” I increase my pace. Desire keeps building, like a flame that’s getting too much fuel. Energy is growing with nowhere to go. My heart is three times its size, and excitement crowds around it.

I’m in love with my husband and he loves me.

“Lane!” A lightning flash of ecstasy courses through me. Then another. And another, until I’m riding a storm of the purest emotion I’ve ever felt.

Lane’s hands are around me, holding me to him. He’s coming inside me and we’re doing this together.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Ever since I first saw you.”

I collapse against him, like it’s too much. It’s too good. What goes up must come down. But he’s here. Catching me.

Lane

I wake up to a long leg twined around mine. I nuzzle Emerson’s hair. “Morning, Mrs. Foster.” My voice sounds like I chewed rocks. There was a lot of talking and dancing last night.

Then the most amazing experience in my pickup. I’ll never sell that thing. Ever.

She stretches and pushes her ass against me. My morning wood wakes up more, but not now. This moment is too nice. I’m holding my wife, and for once I’m not worried she’s going to pull the pin on this marriage.

She snuggles into the bedding. “I hear the Mrs. Foster club is a good one to belong to.”

“It is. Mrs. Fosters also get breakfast in bed.”

“No.” She pats my hands and rolls to the end of the bed. “I have to get somewhere today.”

Curious, I prop myself on my elbow. “Where?”

“Nye.” When she stands, her tits are perky and the nipples are hard. My mouth waters.

“Why there?” It’s not a long drive, but a beautiful one.

Emerson grabs her phone and taps away at the screen. “Prescott told me that she went there for a quick shoot.”

“You want to rescue another animal?” I smile. If she’s planning more rescues, then that means she’s planning to stay.

“She says she’s already getting calls for sponsorship by a company that makes poultry supplements.” She hands me the phone. A video’s playing from one of Prescott’s accounts. A dark turkey with a blue head and a deep red waddle struts around.

Laughing, I hand the phone back. “You really are getting turkeys?”

“There are two, and they were kept as pets, but the owner died. His son does not want turkeys, but he’s also picky about who gets them.”

“Let me clean up and I’ll go with you.”