Just My Luck (The Kings)

How was it that, even in leggings and a cardigan, Sloane was so damn pretty?

I should have kept my hands to myself, but in the cover of darkness in the living room, it felt safe to let my hands wander a bit. Her skin under my fingertips calmed me in a way I couldn’t really explain. The slow, steady breathing of her kids at my side was an unexpected comfort. The twins took pure, unbridled joy in the adventures on screen, and I caught myself laughing with them at the silly puns and obvious jokes.

By the time the movie ended, Tillie was out—her mouth open and the sound of soft snores—a strong giveaway that she’d missed the entire ending of the movie.

Sloane patted Ben’s back and whispered. “Okay, bud. Let’s get you to bed.”

Ben gave a slow, bleary-eyed blink. “I’m not tired.”

The look she gave Ben was full of maternal affection. I could still remember that same look from my own mother. Sloane smiled at me over Ben’s head, and my heart rolled.

It would be so easy to let myself fall for you.

She rubbed slow, patient circles on Ben’s back. “I know. Let’s walk that way anyway.”

Sloane shifted, helping Ben to his feet. She then leaned over me, placing her hand on Tillie’s shoulder.

I stopped her as I stood, careful not to jostle the sleeping girl. “It’s okay. I can get her.”

Sloane frowned. “Are you sure?”

I scooped up Tillie, and when she didn’t seem to notice, I nodded toward the bedrooms. “After you.”

Sloane guided Ben back to his room, and I quietly followed behind them. His padded footsteps flopped against the hardwoods, and I watched as he tipped forward and landed face-first on top of his bedsheets with a plop.

Sloane laughed and began to work him under the covers. I turned and carried Tillie across the few steps toward her bedroom. In the few weeks they’d been there, she’d made it her own—decorating the walls with doodles. My current favorite was a drawing of a cat with a hot dog body. It was weird and oddly cute. Something akin to pride moved through me. She was a blossoming young artist, and I wondered where she got that talent from.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

With one arm, I moved her blankets out of the way and gently set her in bed. After tucking her legs beneath the covers, I made sure the blankets were right. Before I turned to leave, I looked down at her sleeping face.

She looked so much like her mom. Without thinking, I bent down and dropped a kiss on the top of her hair. I stood and turned toward the door to see Sloane leaning against the doorjamb, watching me.

Had I overstepped a boundary? Fuck. I had no right.

Nerves raced through me. “I, uh⁠—”

“Shh.” Sloane smiled. She motioned toward the hallway with her head and whispered, “Come on.”

Unable to resist her, I silently followed her into the hallway. Racked with unease, I stopped. “Sloane, I’m sorry I⁠—”

Sloane’s hand reached out and gripped my shirt, pulling me toward her. Her mouth moved over mine in a quick, chaste kiss that left me aching for more. “Shut up.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

A grin spread across her face as her sultry voice filled my head. “Oh, I like that.”

I moved forward, bracing one hand against the hallway wall and caging her in. “Is that right?”

Sloane licked her lips and nodded as she smoothed her hands up my chest. “I do like it. I also like that you care about my kids.” Her wide eyes searched mine. “Thank you for showing them kindness and affection. I do my best, but sometimes I know it’s not enough.”

My hand cupped her face. “You are an incredible mother, and they’re lucky to have you. I promise it’s enough.”

Her eyes flicked down. “Thank you.”

I stayed where I was, enjoying the way her sweet perfume floated between us. My thumb brushed across her cheekbone as I committed every line and curve to memory.

I leaned down, brushing my lips across her brow, peppering soft kisses around her eye and across her cheekbone. Every kiss was a silent promise to protect her.

Her hazel eyes slid to mine. “Abel, what are you doing?”

I took her face in my hands. “I am giving you the kindness and affection that you deserve.” My lips brushed hers. “Is this all right?”

Her breath was like a whispered promise in the darkness. “It’s more than all right.”

My mouth crashed to hers, a plea for her to also feel whatever it was that was building inside me. Her soft moan moved through my chest. I pressed my hips against hers, and one leg hitched beside my hip. My palm grabbed her leg, grazing the outside of her thigh, and I squeezed.

I lifted Sloane, wrapping her legs around my waist. We fumbled and kissed as I made my way in the darkness toward her bedroom. Behind the closed door, I walked toward the bed and gently set her down. Sloane removed her cardigan and whipped the T-shirt over her head. Her nipples puckered beneath a sheer black bra, and my mouth watered. I slid her leggings down her thighs and deposited them on the ground beside the bed.

My world stopped when her legs spread to show off her bare pussy. I removed my shirt and palmed her breast. Sloane’s head tipped back, and my mouth found the thumping pulse of her heartbeat at her neck. I licked and sucked at her pulse point as my cock hardened in my jeans.

At the edge of the bed, Sloane watched me remove my jeans and slide my black boxer briefs to the floor. My cock jutted from between my legs, hard and ready for her.

I slid my fingers into my mouth to wet them. “Look at me,” I demanded.

Her eyes whipped up as I slid two fingers into her hot, wet cunt. She gasped and spread her legs wide, and her hips began to move.

I stepped between her legs, planting a hand at her chest and pressing her back into the bed. “That’s it, beautiful, look at me while I warm you up.”

She swallowed and shook her head. “Don’t—don’t call me that.”

I slowly dragged my fingers in and out of her as I stroked my cock. “You don’t want me to call you beautiful?”

“No, it’s fine. I just . . .” Her eyes flicked away. “I want you to call me your wife.” A pink blush swept across her cheeks. I fucking loved that she was shy and unsure, but still willing to tell me exactly what she needed.

I pinched her pert nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra before gliding my hand to encircle her throat. I gently squeezed—a question.

“Yes.” Sloane squirmed beneath me. “Yes, please.”

I slid my fingers from her pussy and used my free hand to guide my cock to her entrance. With my hand still around her throat, I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I will always protect you. You’re mine. My wife.” On my wife I slid into her, stretching her open and prompting a moan of pleasure to rip from her throat. I silenced it with a kiss.

My cock thickened, and her walls clamped around me. With her back on the bed, I reveled in the way her tits bounced as I pounded into her. Sloane’s sleek bun nearly unraveled as I continued fucking her.

With muffled moans and stifled grunts, I pounded into her. My thighs burned and my cock ached for release, but I wouldn’t quit—not until I pulled every ounce of pleasure from her. Her fingers clenched the bedsheets, her jaw clamped closed to keep from screaming out. I reached between us, briefly feeling the way my cock disappeared inside her, before using my thumb to circle her clit.

She bucked as I drew her closer and closer to the edge. My hips slapped against her as I relentlessly drove into her. Her pussy gripped tighter. “That’s it. Come for me. Show your husband whose cock you can’t get enough of.”

Sensing she was moments away from completely falling apart, I tightened my grip on her throat, only fractionally. It was enough to send her reeling. Tiny pulses of her inner walls and quivers of her thighs were immediately followed by a rush of her cum. I pumped again, leaning my weight into her as she came on my cock. My own release pumped into her as I moaned.

Slack and smiling on the bed, Sloane hummed. I left my cock inside her, reveling in her warmth.

An entire lifetime would never be enough.

Sloane was flushed and slicked with sweat. She beamed up at me. “Thank you.”

I smiled down at her, carefully examining her neck to ensure I hadn’t left marks. While I certainly wouldn’t have minded leaving behind evidence of whom she belonged to, Sloane didn’t need the questioning looks from nosy neighbors.

I brushed my fingertips across her cheek. “You really are beautiful.”

Sloane’s arms stretched above her. “And you are constantly surprising me.”

I slid out of her and stepped back before helping Sloane to sit up. “Surprising?”

She stood, wrapping her arms around me, and cuddled into me. My arms wound around her back, and I held her close. “You’re tender.”

I laughed. I had just had my hand around her throat, and she was calling me tender?

“I’m serious.” Sloane laughed with me, batting at my chest. “Not gentle—thank god—but you have a tenderness. I always feel safe with you.”

I peered down at her, brushing away the strand of hair that covered her eye. “You are safe with me. Always.”

Sloane grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom. When she bypassed the shower, I paused.

Sloane pointed at the claw-foot bathtub and smirked. “I’m still not convinced you fit in this thing. Care to prove me wrong?”

I smiled. “I’d love to.”

After scrounging up some bath salts and lighting a candle, I filled the tub with hot water, and the bathroom quickly filled with steam. I slipped into the bath first, nearly taking up the entire thing as Sloane covered her laugh with the back of one hand.

I playfully rolled my eyes and held out my hand to her. “Get your ass in here.”

I let the hot water soak into me as I relaxed against the porcelain. Sloane was right, of course. I barely fit, and my knees popped above the surface of the water. Despite the close quarters, Sloane leaned her back on my front, and I held her. Using a loofah, I scrubbed her back and shoulders while I listened to her talk. She shared about drama at the brewery between servers that I had no idea was happening, how she worried about her granddad, and her excitement over the farmhouse build.

She never seemed to mind that my responses were a mix of nods and grunts and hums. She never once asked me to change or open up or be better for her. Only, she didn’t realize that for her, I would do it.

Determined to show her, after washing and conditioning her hair, I wrapped my arms around her and held her once more. I rested my chin on her shoulder. “I noticed Tillie is a really good artist. Does she come by that naturally?”

Sloane laughed. “Well, she doesn’t get it from me, that much I can assure you.”

I let a water droplet fall from my fingertip onto her shoulder and watched as it slid down her arm and disappeared into the hot water. “She’s talented. I’ve been reaching out to local artists to design some new labels, so I have seen a lot of drawings lately. I think, especially at her age, she’s got skill.”

Sloane considered. “Maybe I need to enroll her in some art classes or something . . . now that I have the money.”

I chuckled. “Now that you’re a rich lady, you can do whatever you want.”

My joke didn’t seem to land, and Sloane grew quiet. In the small tub, she maneuvered to face me. “The money won’t change me. I’m still the same person.”

I studied her face, curious as to where this was coming from. “I know that.”

Her arms rested on the top of mine, and she looked me in the eye. “I’m serious. Nothing’s changed.”

I only managed a nod.

Nothing’s changed? Are you fucking kidding me?

Everything has changed.