Page 129 of His Greatest Treasure

One hand big, one tiny, and the last medium-sized.

A family, now written in stone.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

OLIVER

ONE YEAR LATER

“Good morning, wife.”

“Good morning, husband.”

I stretch my arm out around Avery’s body and tug her closer. The California-king-sized bed is too fucking big. I’d have preferred to spend our first night as Mr. and Mrs. Bateman with her sleeping right on top of me, but no. She awed over the size of this thing and tried to roll away in her sleep before I woke to a dark room and brought her right back into my arms.

As fucking if.

“You’re insatiable,” she coos, wiggling her ass back on my cock.

I’m painfully hard, and the feel of her naked body against mine doesn’t help me soften at all. I lost track of how many times I was inside of her last night and early this morning, but I know it doesn’t matter.

I want her again already. Have wanted her every day for as long as I can remember, and as of last night, I finally made that feeling permanent.

The band of her wedding ring is cool against my fingers when she links hers through them and presses them to her pregnant belly. The slight swell there still feels surreal. Like a dream.

“Yeah, I am. Are you sore?”

“Mm, not at all.”

“Good.” Slipping our hands down her belly and between her thighs, I uncurl my fingers and stroke her pussy. She’s wet, slick with the same arousal that’s beating in my chest like a kick drum. “Lift your leg, baby.”

She does as I say and tucks it over mine, opening herself up to me. I give my cock a hard stroke and guide it between her legs, nudging the tip at her opening.

“Mrs. Bateman,” I grunt before gliding deep.

She moans, drooping her head back along the pillow and reaching behind her shoulder to hold me. “Mr. Bateman.”

“That feel good? Nice and full?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

I press my lips to her shoulder, over the bruise left by my mouth last night. There are several of them scattered all over her body, but I clearly focused more on the visible parts of her, where I knew everyone could see.

Thrusting up gently, I bring my hand to her chest and squeeze her nipple, her pleasure obvious in the tightening of her walls around me. She arches back and wiggles in my hold, backing her ass into my groin with a whine.

“You’re just as gone for this dick as I am for this perfect pussy, aren’t you, wife? You were missing me inside of you, even after only a few hours,” I rasp.

She quivers at my words. I curse into her skin and drag my tongue over her skin, tasting her. She tastes more like me than she does herself, and that fact goes right to my cock. I’m a possessive fuck, and I’ve never felt that as strongly as I do right now.

“I’ll give you what you need. Keep squeezing me so fucking tight and I’ll fill this needy pussy with cum, princess. Have you so full you’re dripping on the sheets and down your thighs. Then, I’ll carry you into the bathroom and do it all over again. If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d have you there by the end of our honeymoon.”

“Oliver, fuck,” she cries, meeting me stroke for stroke with desperate jerks of her hips.

I nip at her throat and hum as my groin tightens. “Yeah, baby. You have to soak this cock before I give you what you want.”

“Yes!” she shouts, nodding furiously.

Her orgasm comes on swift and strong. She’s sensitive, and I’ve had over a year to learn how to get her there the way she wants. I know her body as well as she does, and I’ll never get bored of bringing her this pleasure.

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