Page 1 of His Lovebug

1

MATTHEW “COLT” COLTRANE

I was on the hunt for pretty prey.

Somewhere in our house, my wife—it wasn’t official yet, butsoon—was hiding, waiting for his big beast of a husband to find him. I stepped quietly across the floor in my bare feet. The silence of the second-floor hallway was foreboding and eerie, but it wasn’t me who should be worried.

No.

I was the predator, and when I found Quin, I was going to ravish him and mount him and breed him full until he was overflowing, and his body would have no choice except to do what I wanted—grow my baby.

“Where are you, my pretty princess?” I growled loudly, so that no matter where he was on the second floor, he could hear me.

Thump.

I grinned.Ah, there you are.I followed the sound that carried from our bedroom and paused at the doorway. Inside, everything seemed undisturbed. Our bed, freshly made from this morning. The light aroma of apples filled the space, and Itook a moment to inhale the scent, which had become Quin’s favorite candle over the last month.

“Wifey, are you in here?” I sang, the corner of my mouth curling upward in triumph when a small chuckle came from the walk-in closet.Got him.I crept quietly across the room, closing the distance between me and the closet, then stopped right in front of it. I danced my fingers over the width of the wooden door before I finally knocked.

I could hear his sharp inhale from outside, and the sound made me feel like the Big Bad Wolf. “Where, oh where, could my baby be? Is he...?” I yanked open the door, and he screamed, laughing loudly as he shot out from the closet and tried to duck under my arm. “Here he is!” I looped my arms around him and heaved him off his feet, spinning him in a circle, drawing giggles and squeals from him. “I got you, and now I’m going to ruin you.”

His red dress with white polka dots swirled around his knees as I spun him, and he kicked, his bare heel hitting me on the thigh close to my balls. I dropped him when he continued to flail, not wanting to risk a blow to a more precious area as the pain from his first hit throbbed.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Matt. Are you okay?” He turned to me, eyes wide with concern. His dark bangs swished in front of his face and he brushed them aside so he could stare up at me. His long brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, the looseness a sign of how relaxed andat homehe was here.

I took a moment to appreciate the delicate lines of his face. His Adam’s apple was a little bump on his throat that I loved to kiss. His cute button nose was one of my favorite parts of him, but then, I adored his long natural eyelashes, faint freckles, supple cock-sucking lips, and pretty hazel eyes, too.

His beauty was a gut punch that nearly brought me to my knees every time.

And yes, Quin preferred to be calledhim, and that didn’t change, even when other words he used to describe his body did. But if he ever wanted to be called something else? Well, it wouldn’t be a problem because I love him. His happiness is always my top priority.

But today we were playing one of our favorite games, where I hunted and chased him, and he ran, and when I finally caught him, I threw him on the nearest flat surface and took advantage of his asshole—or as we called it, his pussy.

I smirked, a spark of heated desire igniting the coiled pleasure in my stomach. I took a step toward him.

He answered with a step backward, eyes sparkling knowingly.

“Come here, Princess.”

“No,” he murmured.

Oh. Is that how you want to play it today? Fine.

“Wife, come here.” I held out my hand, an undercurrent of excited electricity tingling in the tips of my fingers.

His grin turned mischievous. “If you want me, Husband, you need to catch me first.” Then, he was off again, ducking past me in a way he’d perfected over the last month or so. He was quick on his feet. While I had bulk, he was slender and agile, and even though I went to snatch his arm, I missed him, and he darted out of the bedroom.

His tinkling laughter filled the hallway, and I shook my head, a warmth spreading in my chest that I’d never felt with any of the women I’d been with before Quin. He was more than just my fiancé; he matched me in a way others hadn’t in the past. He fought against me when he needed to, but he also went along with whatever game we’d decided to play. He was good at rolling with the metaphorical hits. Our relationship hadn’t begun in the most innocent way—with my manipulation—but we’d grown from it. I had plans to make up for the past.

I wasn’t a cruel man, or at least, Itriednot to be to him—my wife.

Being with Quin gave me an opportunity to think about my life. His softness was exactly what I’d been craving in a partner, and his sweetness had brought with it the realization of what I’d been missing in my childhood. I grew up with my father and my younger brother, without an ounce of feminine touch. Our mother left, and I barely remembered her name, let alone her face. Dad never talked about her, and we never asked. Instead, we grew up steeped in masculinity that involved silence and hunting, until my old man keeled over from a heart attack.

My relationship with my brother wasn’t any better.

We didn’t talk much, and when he came over, it was to do something spiteful, like fuck my ex-wife. Bethany had enjoyed every second of cheating on me, and she hadn’t apologized for it. I hadn’t expected the betrayal from her, whereas it was a regular thing for Jackson. I didn’t know why he hated me, and I’d never cared to ask.

I shook my head. I hadn’t told Quin anything about my brother yet, and hell, we didn’t talk much about my past at all, but I didn’t want the shit I’d lived through to be an excuse. I liked what I liked, and what I wanted was a wife at home, pretty in a dress and taking care of me. A wife and a future mother.

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