“I’m not sure, Lols. I’ve never experienced it before, but I’d be willing to if you are.” He grins at me mischievously, and I catch it from my periphery.
“Maybe later, but only if you don’t get us killed because you can’t keep your hands to yourself!”
“Okay, okay,” he says, removing his hand and putting both up in surrender.
A few minutes later, we’re at the furthest edge of the property, parked and walking hand in hand to the watering hole through the thick trees.
“You know I’ve seen this place before, right?” I tease. “In fact, I’ve becomewellacquainted with it over the last few months.” I waggle my brows at him suggestively, and he snorts a laugh, bringing my knuckles to his lips.
“Hold your horses. You’ll find out in just a minute.”
We continue walking in silence, nothing but the setting sun glinting through the treetops to keep us from tripping over the roots running along the ground. When we break through the brush, the moon is on our left, the sun setting on the horizon, creating beautiful rainbows over the smooth water.
“Do you trust me, darlin’?”
I answer without hesitation. “Implicitly.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and he places his hands on my hips. “Then close your eyes,” he instructs.
I do as I’m told, listening closely for any signs of what the surprise might be. Crickets sing in the distance, and Ryder’s warm scent wraps around me in whispers of vanilla and bourbon. He hoists me up, and my legs wrap around his waist instinctively, my arms winding around his neck as he carries me over crunching leaves and closer to the water slowly running over smooth rocks.
A cool breeze whips past us, my hair flying around my face, but my eyes remain closed.
“For this next part, it’s probably better if you open your eyes.” I blink rapidly to clear my vision as he sets me on unsteady feet. He pushes my hair out of my face, and his surprise comes into view.
I stare at the structure in awe, mouth gaping as I crane my neck back to take in every detail.
A set of steps hangs from the platform base, leading up to a simple rectangular treehouse built into the side of the tall oak. The canopy of leaves hovers over top, casting a large shadow. “Go on up. I’ll give you a boost.” He steps to the side, giving me space to grip the smooth wooden planks. He’s installed silicone grippers to the tops of each rung to make it easier for me to hold onto, I’m sure. His fingers dig into my hips, supporting my weight as I climb to the top.
I wait for him to join me, hanging on to the sturdy railing at the edge of the tiny, uncovered porch. He tugs me inside, ducking his head as we enter through the small doorway. Everything was built to accommodate my full height, but at six-foot-four, Ryder looks like a giant here.
“What is all this?” I ask, my voice small as I take in the fluffy white carpet, full-size mattress, and all of the white, red, pink, and purple decorations littering the small room. He’s got electricity running somehow, a small light flush against the ceiling illuminating the space, and a mini fridge so tiny it could probably only hold two or three cans of pop.
“Remember when we went for your appointment to remove the implant last month, and you said you’d need a place to hide away and relax when we have kids if ours turn out to be anything like Isabela?” he asks with a wide grin.
“Yes…”
He pulls me into his body, resting his forehead against mine. “Well, here it is. Your place to escape,” he whispers, and my chest heaves, my vision going hazy behind a wall of tears. Rough, calloused hands glide up my sides, over my breasts, causing my nipples to pebble and goosebumps to erupt along my neck as he raises his palms to cup my cheeks.
“How do you keep getting better each day?” I ask, my words sounding water-logged.
“I learn from the best,” he answerspointedly. “Now”—he lowers his mouth to hover over the shell of my ear—“is my gorgeous wife ready for me to breed her pretty pussy?”
White-hot heat flashes through me, and I let out a whimper, immediately sinking to my knees in the cramped space. His eyes grow wide before narrowing on me. He pushes a hand through my hair, grabbing hold of my roots as I make quick work of his belt, tugging his jeans and briefs down his thick thighs, the tattoo he got just for me on full display now.
“I’m not sure your mouth is the right hole, darlin’. I love it all the same, but I think we need to try a little lower if—” He groans when I grip his base, directing his tip to my mouth. I tap his dick on my tongue, then swirl around it and stroke the underside of his length. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll take your pussy later,” he says, his head falling back, banging against the wall behind him with a loud thud. He reaches up to rub at the spot, grimacing, but I get to work, sucking him all the way into my throat until he’s bottoming out, all remnants of pain forgotten.
I release him from my mouth with a pop, my tongue darting out to lick off the salty drop of precum beading from his slit. His eyes never leave me, staring down at me with a feral expression that has my toes curling.
“Spit on it, darlin,” he demands, and I do, running my hand from tip to base to coat him as he grunts, his jaw twitching as he grinds his molars. He reaches down to grab me under my arms, tugging me up before pushing me back down onto my back. I fall unceremoniously into the center of the small mattress as he prowls over me, stopping to tug off his shirt.
The last of the sun's rays filter through the corner window, casting my husband in a stunning golden glow. His abdominal muscles ripple, and his corded biceps flex as his arms flank me. He dips his head, catching my lips in a quick kiss, biting on my bottom lip as he pulls away.
He leans back to stare down at me, running his hands under my shirt. His thumbs caress my peaked nipples, and myback arches into the sensation. The corner of his lip twitches with a knowing smirk. “You like that, huh?”
“Mhmm,” I answer, whimpering as he repeats the movement.
“What else does my stunning wife like?” he asks, but it’s clear he isn’t looking for an answer, not with how his hands move over me, tugging my shirt over my head and falling back to the front-closing clasp on my lacy red bra. He undoes it, making quick work of tossing my clothing to the side before sliding down my body and unbuttoning my shorts. “No answer?” he asks, quirking a brow at me, but my mind is a little slow to the draw with lust fogging my synapses. He tugs my shorts down, dragging my thong with it and dropping them beside the mattress.
