A Year After the Wedding

New Orleans, Louisiana

He woke to the feeling of her tongue swiping across the slit on the head of his cock. The sucker was at absolute attention and was convinced this was the way to wake each and every day. Bodie didn’t necessarily disagree. Having his dick sucked was fine as a precursor, but nothing felt better than sinking into Quinn’s wet heat before starting the day. Nothing.

Well, maybe watching her bound through the tall grasses that surrounded the estate as a tigress or maybe joining her in their bedroom only to find she was naked and offering herself to him. She was so fucking beautiful that it hurt.

Her hand wrapped around his cock down at the root and squeezed gently as she took him into her mouth, sliding up to just behind the bulbous head and then back down. She had yet to suck him into her mouth and it was starting to make him grumpy.

Her mouth poised just over the tip. “I love you,” she whispered, letting both the heat of her mouth and her breath tickle and tease.

Quinn was such a dreadful, wonderful tease. She lightly sucked up and down his length—first one side and then the other, smooching kisses across the head. Her tongue swirled all around him before finding the deep V along the underside and focusing her attention there. He let his hands find her head, fisting her hair with one while stroking it with the other. She moaned as her tongue made its way back to the top and licked at him like he was some kind of fucking lollipop.

The light tracings of her tongue lit up every inch of his cock and left nothing but need and arousal in its wake.

“If you don’t start sucking my dick, mate, you’re going to find yourself face down over my knee,” he growled.

A gangster had to do what a gangster had to do… but then he wasn’t much of a gangster anymore. These days he was almost an upstanding citizen. For the most part he liked it, but even if he hadn’t, he would still have done it for her—always for her. He groaned, savoring the way only she could make him feel. His head sank into the pillow, and he purred down the tether of the bonding link. He looked down the length of her body to see her smiling as she looked up and their eyes met. Damn, but he loved her.

Bodie arched his back, driving his cock into her mouth toward the soft velvety place at the back of her throat. Quinn could deep throat with the best of them—and he would know, although he didn’t think he’d share that bit of information with her. Swallowing him down she indicated her pleasure in serving him this way. The pleasure increased tenfold. He tugged on her hair reveling in the feel of her mouth all around him.

He could feel his cock swelling as his balls drew up tight to his body. He steadied her head and pushed up as he began to fuck her mouth. The tigress in her began to purr, reverberating all around his driving cock as he pistoned in and out.

Bringing her hands up to cover his, not to try and move them away, but to increase the connection between them. She swallowed hard as he reached the back of her throat, forcing him down. He wanted to make it last, wanted to remove himself from her mouth to toss her on her back and shove himself deep into her pussy before he came, but he didn’t have time for that. He held her in place as he emptied himself into her—coating her tongue, her throat and her belly with cum.

Quinn sat up, wiping the little of his cream that had escaped between her lips before drawing it into her mouth and licking it clean.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what? For not being able to swallow all of my cum?”

“No, about Maurice’s wife. I know how much you wanted to steal her corpse to bring home so that he could watch over her until he joins her in the great beyond.”

She was right about that. The old El Tigre would have loved to have snuck in, retrieved her body and thumbed his nose at the old man all the way home. But her brother now ruled Paris and upon hearing Bodie was in the city, asked to meet with him.

“You’ve come for her, haven’t you?” he asked.

Bodie nodded.

“We never found her, although my father never stopped telling people to look for her.”

“And did you?” he asked.

“No, but then I’m not so sure how hard we looked. Most of our clan finds their story to be incredibly romantic—my mate among them. Each year five couples are selected and allowed to run the various different paths they might have taken in the moonlight. I must say the two times we were among the chosen, I found it incredibly erotic.”

“That’s an interesting story, but why tell me?”

“To tell you to tell Maurice he is always welcome to return home.”

“Maurice’s home is in New Orleans. He is one of us,” said Quinn a bit too vehemently.

“Forgive my mate. She and Maurice have grown quite close. I do not believe he will ever leave Quinn.”

“His loyalty should be to you, not her,” said the tiger who ruled Paris, puffing himself up. The French could be so pretentious.

Bodie chuckled. “Me. Her. It’s one and the same, but I agree with my mate, Maurice is home.”

All of the air seemed to deflate as quickly as it had come. “I figured that might be what you said. Then if you will give us my sister’s location, I will have her body exhumed, placed in a coffin and returned to your clan.”

Bodie fought hard to hide his shock. “I would be grateful. I assure you she will be buried in a place of honor, where at some point in the future—a very long time from now—Maurice will join her.”

“D’accord.”

And so, with little fuss and muss, the body had been exhumed and was, even now, being sent to their estate just outside New Orleans.

“It was the right thing to do,” she said softly.

“I know, but I get to do so few illegal things these days…”

“The upstanding editor-in-chief of the Gazette can’t have her publisher/husband behaving like a gangster.”

“How about a fairy godfather?”

She grinned at him. “Now that’s something I can live with.”

And she did—happily ever after.