Page 23 of Saint (Hot Shots 4)

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“Over the moon.” I hike my leg over his hard length, wetness coating a path in its wake.

“My greedy girl need me again?” Saint flips me over onto my back, throws my legs over his forearms, his cock sliding against the lips of my pussy, causing me to moan.

“Yes, please.” I thrust my hips up when he backs away, chasing his length, needing to feel him inside me.

“Well, Mrs. Hunt, I have just the thing to make you scream out my name.” My last name is his now, our souls entwined, and I know this is our forever.

“Saint, don’t tease me.” The head of his cock is at the entrance to my sex.

“Not going to. I know just what you need.” Saint thrusts deep inside me. My hands delve into his short hair, pulling him down, my lips pressing against his chest, tasting the salty tang of his skin.

“Fuck, you’re trying to destroy me, Emerson,” Saint sighs out when I nip at his chest, our bodies moving together. I thrust up as he slides inside of me.

“Then I guess I’m doing my job,” I sigh, feeling my orgasm on the brink of taking over my body.

“Hell, yes, you are. Now and forever, sweetheart.” The walls of my center clamp down on his length, and I tip over the edge, seeing stars behind my now closed eyelids. It’s only when I feel Saint start to come deep inside me that I open my eyes. There’s nothing that I love more than watching Saint come inside me, the look of complete rapture that washes over him, knowing that I have the power to do that. It causes me to have another orgasm right along with Saint. “I love you, Mr. Hunt.” Our chests are heaving, while Saint is lying on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat.

“I love you, Mrs. Hunt. Thank you for giving me one of the best days of my life. Thankful as fuck you have our little one inside you, and your health is doing okay. Even if you do bitch about me hovering like a mother hen. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Emerson.” There is so much conviction in his voice, it causes tears to slide down my cheeks.

“I love you more than anything.” Saint moves us so he’s on his back with me snuggled to his side. We lie there in silence, soaking everything in, and in complete contentment.

Epilogue

Emerson

Nine Months Later

“You sure you’ll be okay with the twins while I’m gone?” Saint asks for what seems like the eighth time in the past day. After going to the doctor and being put on tough restrictions for the first few months of my pregnancy, things settled down with the dizziness and nausea. It seems when you’re already suffering from vertigo and you add in not one but two babies, my symptoms were only amplified. We erred on the side of caution, and once I was feeling better, there was no more stumbling or dizziness. It was like I was a completely different person.

And, yeah, you read that right—twins. I guess when we decide to have children, it seems we’ll get two, which is probably why he’s been asking me this non-stop. Teresa is the oldest by minutes, the spitting image of me as a baby, or at least that’s what both grandmothers say. And, of course, our son, Jamie, who really is just like his dad in more than just looks. Where Teresa likes to be awake when anyone is over, almost as if feeling like she has to be up and let everyone know she wants their undivided attention, Jamie is happy to sleep through anything, and that includes when Josey and Mack come barreling through the front door, barely saying hello to the twins and me. Now that they’re getting older, it’s all about Uncle Saint and going fishing.

“Yes, would you go? Cruz needs your help. He doesn’t ask for much, and you getting to hit the waves while helping him teach other children how to surf is for a good cause. Besides, if it gets to be too much, I can have help within ten minutes.” For the most part, the twins are content—eat, sleep, poop, and repeat.

“Still, it’s almost an hour there, a few hours of work, you know Luna will feed everyone, and then another hour home. I’ll be gone most of the day, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead, his eyes glued to the other side of the room where we have a pack-and-play set up for the twins. Thankfully, we can set them up at waist level. I didn’t plan on having a cesarean section, but with twins, those odds are much higher, and while I’m on the mend, some things are still hard for me to do.

“I’ll see if Mom and Misty want to come over. Will that help calm you down?” Compromise, it’s one of the things we always try to do with one another.


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