Page 1 of Paternal Instincts
Chapter 1
Quaid
“This is so… fuuuuck… not like you.” Aslan’s nails scraped against the storage room door as his thighs trembled. He jerked his hips forward, choking me with his cock, and I sputtered and laughed, shoving him in place.
Twice, he threw his head back, making more racket than we needed, even after hours when the bullpen in both homicide and MPU housed barely a skeletal staff.
He cursed again, too loud. Anotherthump.
I popped off his cock, licking my raw lips with a wicked grin. “Try to keep it down, eh? I don’t want someone to report us. Not on the last day of work, mere days before the birth of our first child.”
“Can’t… help it. You’re making my eyes cross.” Cheeks flushed, Aslan stroked his fingers through my hair, urging me forward, silently demanding I resume sucking him senseless.
I resisted, raking my nails over his bristly thighs as I gnawed my lower lip.
“Don’t make me beg, Quaid.”
“Can I fuck you?”
Aslan’s brows rode his hairline as he tipped his head to the side, his skeptical smirk highlighted by his rosy cheeks. “Quaid Valor, what has gotten into you today?”
What hadn’t? Everything in my life was aligning better than I ever expected. I was happy and wanted to celebrate.
Humming, I nestled my nose in the crease by Aslan’s groin. Peering up at my husband and the father of our yet-unborn child, I wasn’t sure I could explain the full feeling of love and contentment flowing through my veins. We’d come so far. It didn’t feel real when I thought too hard about all we’d accomplished, and I feared awakening to a life where none of it had happened. No Aslan. No fairy-tale love. No marriage. No family.
I pressed my cheek against his warm thigh, sighing. “Bryn’s due any day, Az.” It explained nothing and everything.
He understood—Aslan always understood—and brushed his fingers over my cheek, cupping my jaw. “Any day. Are you ready for your life to change?”
“More than ready, but you know our sex life is going to take a serious hit, too.”
“It might.”
“It will. Every book I’ve read says so.”
He didn’t quite roll his eyes, but it was close. He thought I’d gone overboard with my excessive research. “If it does, we’ll work it out. I’m not worried. Having a baby is more important. We’ll find our moments. Trust me.”
I clasped his other hand, our fingers automatically weaving together, connecting us, anchoring us to one another. I believed him. I trusted him. We’d conquered many battles, and we would take on many more as a team. As a family.
With a gentle tug, Aslan urged me to my feet. Our mouths fused, drawn together like magnets. The race slowed, and I savored the connection. His heat and scent surrounded me, soothed me, and called to me on a cellular level I no longer questioned. We were made for each other. Aslan was my person. My soulmate. The fear of losing him to someone else had vanished with our marriage vows. He owned me heart and soul, and I knew with absolute certainty that he would follow me to the ends of the earth as I would follow him.
As our tongues danced their familiar dance, Aslan tugged my belt loose, opened my pants, and found my erection straining the fabric of my boxer briefs. He stroked a few times, lazily pulling whimpers and moans from my throat.
“Are you going to let me?” I could barely talk, barely think in a straight line. All I knew for certain was that I wanted him.
“You were serious?”
“Yes. I want to fuck you. Right here and now.”
“In the supply closet?” I felt his smile against my mouth.
“Yes.”
We’d never taken it that far. A few minor make-out sessions, hand jobs, and blow jobs were our limit—weremylimit. Somewhere along the way, the supply closet had become our rendezvous spot at work. It went against all my moral and ethical beliefs about public sex, and yet we found ourselves stealing random moments far too frequently when our busy jobs clashed and infringed upon our private time. All it took was a simple text.
“We don’t have lube.” Aslan’s scruff bit deliciously into my chin, his fingers dancing gloriously over my balls, rubbing, tugging, and massaging. My blood ran hot and thick through my veins.
“Don’t need it.”
