too good to be true.

“Ten!”

Well, this was stupid. 

It wasn’t even the New Year in California, but the ball was dropping in New York City and the pixelated screen over the bar at The Hard Deck was broadcasting the display, and now everyone was counting down. 

“Nine!”

You swirled your soda in a mason jar, Penny’s attempt to make sure you felt included, even though you both knew you had to stay sober because you were 100% the one driving yourself home tonight. 

“Eight!”

It wasn’t even like you’d never been alone on New Year’s Eve before. 

In fact, having Jake to kiss when the clock passed midnight had been a more recent development, and five years against the rest of your life was really only a fractional number. 

“Seven!”

This year, you’d spent a lonely holiday in Texas with the Seresins, all painfully aware of the empty seat at the table. And they were a lovely family, and it was special to facetime Jake with all of them, but so bittersweet to know he was just four hours south in Corpus Christi, leading officer’s training. Your flight back to San Diego hadn’t come soon enough. 

“Six!”

Natasha and Javy meant well, and you were grateful they’d insisted you come out, rather than wallowing in your house, alone. You hadn’t dressed up—for all that it was an institution, the Hard Deck was still just a bar—jeans that fit you well, and a college tshirt of Jake’s, offset by lipstick that you’d never wear if your husband was here, for how he’d grumble about not being able to kiss you for fear of smudging it. 

At first, it’d been fun to play pool, suggest increasingly obscure songs for Rooster to struggle through on the piano, and then rifle through songs on the Jukebox when he gave up. But then you’d been across the bar, as the Daggers settled into their partners or the single ones found equally devastatingly beautiful people to talk to, and someone had played a Randy Travis song on the jukebox. 

“Five!”

Not just any Randy Travis song, but “Forever and Ever, Amen” —the sweet, hokey song that had been playing over the loudspeakers at the Poway rodeo five years ago, when Jake had spun you around in the dark parking lot and whispered “I think I love you” into your hair. 

“Four!”

Coming out had been a stupid idea. 

In addition to keeping your left hand practically glued to your shoulder, in clear line of sight so that enterprising sailors could see the rock Jake had put there, and discourage them from trying a line, you were about to ring in the new year three hours early, in a bar, without your husband. 

Nope, you decided, it was time  to drive yourself back to your home—nevermind that it was too small for you and Jake, but somehow felt cavernously empty with just you there—put on Christmas pajamas, give yourself a perfunctory orgasm with the vibrator you’d made sure to plug in before you left, and then cry yourself to sleep in peace.

“Three!”

You put your glass in the bus bin on the end of the bar, grateful Penny had kept your tab current. She was probably in some back room with Mav, so you weren’t keen to find her to settle before you left. 

A quick look around the bar saw your friends with their arms around each other, their sweethearts, and hot strangers, and the smile on your face felt bittersweet. The 13 weeks of officer training wasn’t even that long, even if it felt like an eternity to you, but they deserved to start the new year without your rainy cloud of melancholy hovering over them.

“Two!”

The crowd of people seemed especially dense, as folks clinked glasses together and pressed closer to the heart of the bar as the countdown got louder. You knew you needed to be outside, away from the crush before ‘midnight’ hit, so you ignored it when you heard Natasha calling for you to wait. 

“One!”

And you should’ve panicked. 

You should’ve pulled away immediately when a hand closed over your arm, when someone pulled you back to face them, when green eyes winked at you, but before you realized it was Jake, before you recognized the smell and presence, and rightness of him being there, you knew. 

“Happy New Year!!!!”

The bar erupted in cheers and Jake dipped you, like the end of one of the countless line dance moves he’d taught you over the years, and you kissed him even as your mind raced to catch up with the impossibility of him being in this bar.

“How are you here?” you whispered, and Jake pulled you up to standing. 

“Couldn’t let you start the new year without me,” Jake shrugged, like that made 1,418 miles pass in the blink of an eye, and maybe it did. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his banded around your waist. You feet may have left the floor, for how tightly he was hugging you, but he was pulling even closer.

“Don’t know if that’s your shade, Seresin,” a voice behind you said, and a second later, Jake rocked forward as Bradley smacked his shoulder, the two of them laughing at your lipstick smeared across Jake’s lips. 

Your husband was pulled into hugs by the rest of his former crew, and you let him go reluctantly—you’d facetimed him last week for Christmas, and they hadn’t seen him before officer training had started. New rounds were ordered, introductions to strangers were made, and you were wedged under Jake’s arm. You didn’t know how long he was in town for, and the fact that he was in his khakis didn’t bode well, so you were sticking as close to him as physically possible. 

Jake must’ve been feeling some of the same clinginess, because, earlier than he normally would’ve opted, he was steering you out the door. 

It still wasn’t anywhere close to midnight, but the ocean air was cool, wrapping around you as you stepped out of the Hard Deck. Jake’s hand found yours as you walked toward the car, and you squeezed his fingers. Before he opened the door for you, he guided your back to the car, and your head tipped up to meet him. 

Unlike earlier, there was no surprise in this kiss, just Jake. The softness of his lips, the taste of cider on his tongue, the way he smelled like the cloves and pine of his cologne, rather than the planes he must’ve been in and out of today. His tongue swept your bottom lip and you opened for him, accepting a deeper kiss. 

God, you’d missed him. 

So damn much, and you knew you should be grateful he was only a couple states away, but having him back in your arms reminded you that you’d almost started the year without him. 

Jake seemed to sense your urgency, his body pressing against yours, and you curled into the warmth of him. 

He pulled back, too soon, his forehead pressing to yours. 

“Let’s get you home, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, and you felt your cheeks heat at the gravel in his voice. You leaned up to brush a kiss against his jaw, and pushed off the door so he could open it for you. Jake let you into the car, jogging around the front of it to get behind the wheel. A moment later, his hand was sliding across the center, palm up, and you placed yours in his. His broad fingers wrapped around yours, and you smiled as you pulled away from the curb. 

It was a quick drive, quiet, and you were comfortable in the silence. Jake’s thumb brushed back and forth across the top of your hand, and you tried to ignore the sparks his simple touch sent up your spine. 

“How long are you home for?” you asked, as he parked in the driveway. 

“They have me heading back on an overnight tomorrow,” Jake responded. “Training starts up again at 0800 on the 2nd, so you’ve got me till this time tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as much as you’d hoped, but more than you’d expected. Jake’s grip on your fingers tightened slightly, and you knew he felt the same. 

You’d barely gotten through the front door when Jake’s hands were on you. 

You could feel the warmth of his palms through the thin cotton of your tee, and even the thicker denim of your jeans. His hands were greedy as he guided you deeper into the kitchen, his lips seeking yours as you whimpered into his kiss, months of longing condensing into the urgency of this moment. Dishes rattled as Jake pressed you against the cabinets, and a moment later, his hands dipped lower to the bottom of your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. 

You scooted to the edge eagerly, appreciating the proximity of the angle. Jake fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head back to control the angle of the kiss and you felt yourself go molten. Heat followed his touch as he ran his other hand over you—your thighs, waist, back to the front of your shirt. It was like he was convincing himself you were here, reassuring himself by touch, and you were more than willing. 

“Were you missing me, honey?” he asked, his fingers skimming over the familiar cotton of his tshirt, a statement of the obvious. 

You nodded, gasping when his hands slipped under the shirt. He trailed kisses down your neck, and you squirmed as he reached around you to undo your bra. You shrugged out of it, unsurprised that Jake wanted access to your boobs but not at the cost of taking his clothing off of you. His mouth continued hotly down your collarbone, his fingers closing around your breasts and he groaned at the weight of them in his fingers. Your back arched, an automatic response to his touch, craving more of him, and Jake brushed his thumbs over your nipples. He looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours as he kissed over the fabric, lower, his lips drawing your breasts into his mouth through the fabric of his shirt. 

“Jake,” you whispered his name, the heat of his tongue dragging over fabric, drawing your nipple to a stiff peak. You hadn’t realized your hand had wound into his hair until he grunted as your fingers pulled, laving his tongue over you. His ministrations turned the thin fabric almost translucent, a display of both your desire, and you whimpered as his hand tightened on your other breast. 

“You always look so good in my clothes, baby,” Jake muttered against your chest, switching to the other nipple. His tongue was punishing, and you felt your pulse quicken as he sucked on your fevered skin. Jake was always so attentive to you, so keyed in to what was working, but you’d missed him so much, pretty much everything was doing it for you, right now. 

“Yours,” you said, your voice already shaking, “wanted to look like yours.”

Jake groaned, his teeth nipping at you lightly before he straightened. 

“Mine,” he repeated, before his lips reclaimed yours. His kiss was frenzied and messy, and you loved that he was just as desperate for you as you were for him. Your hips were rocking towards him, and when you reached the edge of the counter, your zipper met his khakis and you broke away from his kiss with a gasp. 

Your jeans were fitting a little tighter these days, a fact you were grateful for as the pressure of his body against yours ground over your clit. You rocked your hips back slowly, a whine slipping out of your throat at the heavenly drag of wet fabric over your pussy. 

“That needy for me already, honey?” Jake asked, satisfaction thick on his voice, and you loved the sound of it. You nodded mutely, more than happy to stroke his ego, and rewarded when he dropped a hand to undo the button of your jeans. It shouldn’t have been hot how quickly he had your jeans undone and his hand in your pants, but it was, it really fucking was. Your head fell back at the first brush of Jake’s thumb over your aching core, and your husband chuckled, his shoulders shaking under your tight grip. 

“Honey,” he whispered, dragging a knuckle through your folds, meeting no resistance, “is this all for me?”

Obviously, you wanted to snipe at him, but you couldn’t, not when he felt this good. 

His finger was so thick, and there wasn’t much room between the front of your pants and the hand cupped over your pussy; you ground your hips against him, and Jake shifted so you could move against his palm, and you moaned at the feeling. His rough palm, his fingers slipping lower, the sureness of his touch, like he couldn’t be more certain that this was exactly what you wanted, because it was. You were pretty sure you could come just from the fact that he had crammed his hand so close to you, and you reached for him again, kissing him messily as you ground against his hand. 

“Good girl,” Jake praised, his voice deep against your lips, “God, you’re soaking my hand. You feel so fucking good, baby, humping yourself against my palm. How’s that feel, hmm?”

It felt amazing, it always did with him. The roughness of his hand, the way he held you steady, it was perfect. Your hips sped up, and you bit your lower lip as you built your orgasm. His fingers felt so good over you, but you needed him in you. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, and you were practically lifting yourself off the counter to get closer to him, but Jake was holding back. 

“Jake,” you panted, your hips canting into his touch. “Touch me, please.”

“Baby,” Jake said, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice, and you whimpered as he held his hand still. “Need something to fuck yourself onto, don’t you?”

“Please,” you gasped. “Jake, please, yes, want to feel you.”

Jake hummed, dipped his head to kiss lightly along your neck, like he was considering it. He ground his palm against your core and you whimpered, your hips rising to meet him, but Jake tightened a hand on your hip, holding you in place. 

“Ask me nice, baby,” he said, his voice dropping impossibly deeper, as he pressed another wet kiss to your throat. 

His words registered a moment after you heard them, and you blinked your eyes open, flitting between his. 

It was something you’d sexted about, during his assignment to Corpus Christi. Something you’d read about, in your romance novels that Jake teased you about, and something he’d told you he wanted to try, but you’d never said it aloud to him.

“Jake,” you whined, not sure why you were shy suddenly. He called you any number of pet names, and they never had any deeper meaning, but this felt forbidden.

“Baby,” Jake taunted back, and you shivered at the anticipation in his voice. He pushed against your jeans, keeping steady pressure on your clit with his palm, but curling his fingers back. You felt him trace between your thighs, a tease, a promise, he was just waiting for you. 

You closed your eyes. 

“Touch me, Jake,” you whispered. “Please…daddy.”

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, the curse ripped out of him like you’d truly leveled him with a word. He slammed two fingers into you and you keened, arching off he counter and curling into him. “That’s right, baby, take it. Good girls get what they ask for, when they ask for it right, and that’s the sweetest you’ve ever asked, isn’t it?”

You moaned, your thighs shaking as you shoved your hips back to meet his hand. You were clinging to him, shoulders braced against upper cabinets but suspended by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his hand thrusting in and out of your cunt. He felt so good, his fingers so much longer and thicker than yours, filling you. 

“Look at me,” Jake gritted, and you lifted your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were piercing in the dark of the kitchen, and you saw he was breathing hard. His gaze raked over you. 

“Fuck, baby, how could I stay away? I’ve got the prettiest girl just waiting for me, her cunt weeping and so fucking ready for me—God, you feel so good, baby, you’re so fucking tight. Will you come for me like this? Just with daddy’s voice and fingers?”

Your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself tighten when he called himself it. Fuck, why was that so hot??

You meant to moan his name, but all that came out was the most pitiful whine of “daddy,” and Jake groaned. 

“That’s right, baby, I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good, honey, you’re doing so good for me. Taking my fingers so fucking well, like you always do. God, you gotta come for me, baby, gotta loosen up so you can take me. I have to be inside you, need you so badly, baby—”

Jake broke off in a moan, your hips bucking wildly into his hand. 

You reached blindly for him, pulling his face back to yours and Jake kissed you messily, his fingers stroking inside you as his tongue licked into your mouth. You could feel how hard he was breathing, holding you up and seeking your pleasure as greedily as if it was his own, and his palm ground harder against your clit and you shattered against his hand. 

Jake groaned, feeling your release on his fingers, drenching your panties. “Fuck, honey, look at you, coming for me. You did so good, did that feel good, baby? You’re so beautiful for me, like this.”

You moaned, your hips still weakly flexing against Jake’s hand, riding out your orgasm. Your skin felt on fire, and the air around you felt cold suddenly, and you realized Jake had set you back down on the counter. Through heavy eyes, you watched him pull his hands out of your pants, watched him lick you off his fingers, and his shoulders slacken at your taste.

He bent down, pulling off your shoes and tossing them somewhere behind him, before giving your jeans the same treatment. Then he was pulling off his khakis, a foresight that made your cheeks heat, because if he got any closer to you right now, you’d ruin his uniform. When he stood before you in just his boxers, he pulled you to him, a rumble of contentment rolling through him when you pressed against his chest. 

He was broad, and smelled so good, and he wrapped his arms around you like he wanted nothing more than to warm you. Your wet tshirt snagged against your breasts, but you snuggled against him anyways, and Jake’s arms tightened, like he also couldn’t get close enough. 

“That okay?” he mumbled against your hair, and your nodded. Only your husband would bring you to the fastest orgasm of your life, wring you out on the kitchen counter, and then check in if you were okay with his guilty pleasure nickname. You turned your head to kiss his chest, surprised to taste salt on your lips. It pleased you that what you’d just done was hot enough to work Jake Seresin into a sweat. 

“More than okay,” you said honestly, pulling back to smile up at him. “Now what’s this about needing to be inside of me?”

“Nothing new there,” Jake said, his eyes roaming your face. He tipped his head to the side. “Need water, or anything?”

You shook your head. “Just you, Jake.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile, and he framed your face with his hands, kissing you gently. You ran your fingers up his side, feeling goosebumps rise in your wake, and smiling against his lips when Jake leaned into you, like he couldn’t help it. Your hands trailed down, one of your hands coming to the front of Jake’s boxers, and you lifted your chin, breaking the kiss to watch Jake’s expression as you reached between his legs. 

How was it possible to miss him this much? 

It made you shiver to feel the hot length pressing against the front of his boxers, like every inch of him was straining for your touch. You ran your hand over his bulge, and Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, before his hand stopped your wrist. When he stepped back from the counter, you hopped off of it, following him eagerly to the bedroom. Jake turned to you, his grip on your wrist tightening to help you onto the bed, but you had other ideas. 

You dropped to your knees, fingers curling around the hem of Jake’s pants as you went.

“Honey,” Jake protested, but you grinned at him from the ground. Jake would call you greedy when you were begging for him between your legs, but you’d call yourself just as greedy here. You’d already cum for him, and now you wanted the taste and weight of him on your tongue. 

“Let me taste you first,” you said, pulling down his boxers, and looking up at him through your lashes, already smirking before you added, “Daddy.”

Jake groaned, his head tipping back to the ceiling. “You’re gonna be too dangerous with that, aren’t you?”

You liked the thought of being dangerous, just to him. 

When you pulled his boxers down his thighs, his cock bounced free, and you cooed at the precum smeared over the tip. It was so hot that he’d gotten this hard from fingering you, making you cum. You didn’t know what your expression was doing, but Jake mumbled something to himself, running a hand through his hair, his other settling on the top of your head, a gentle caress. 

You wrapped your palm around his base, squeezing lightly, and traced your tongue over a vein on the side of Jake’s cock. Jake’s breath stuttered, and part of you wanted to keep teasing him, but the other part of you wanted to take him, hard, like he’d taken you. 

You wet your lips, opened your mouth, and took your husband’s cock as deep as you could. 

Jake stumbled, knees fully buckling, and pride swelled in your chest as his cock hit the back of your throat before he straightened. 

“Baby,” Jake groaned, “Jesus, that mouth…”

You hummed around his cock, pulling yourself back and bracing your hands on the front of his thighs. You couldn’t take all of him down your throat, not this quickly, he was too thick. But you wanted to, and you set up a quick rhythm, sliding your mouth up and down his length. The salty taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue, made your movements slower than you wanted, but you stretched around him as best you could. 

“Such a good girl for me,” Jake murmured. “Christ, baby, look at you. Couldn’t even wait to get to the bed to take daddy’s cock.”

You moaned; you loved when he praised you like this—eyes barely open, mouth hanging slack, awed by you. 

You still felt shivery from your orgasm, but his words were like wind over embers, slowly rekindling heat. You bobbed your head, twisting your hand at his base, and your other hand reaching up to cup his balls. At your first touch, Jake jolted, and he swore quietly, before pulling you off of him. A moment later, his hands closed around your upper arms, pulling you to your feet. 

“Gonna finish too quickly if you start that,” he muttered. He kissed you, moaning at the taste of him on your lips, and then he moved quickly, tossing you onto the bed. You gasped when you hit the bed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, but Jake was already crawling over you, his hands pinning your arms to the bed.  You writhed, your body pressing up against his, addicted to the slide of bare skin between you. 

“Every damn part of you,” Jake muttered against your skin, sucking in a long breath through his nose as he ran it along your neck, “that mouth, your cunt, every fucking inch of you feels so good, baby.”

He sank on top of you, and you moaned, your arms clasping around his back as his weight settled over you. His sharp body, hard were you were soft, was the most delicious friction, and you gasped when his cock brushed between your thighs. 

You tried to lift your hips, seeking him, but his weight had you pinned. Jake seemed content with the contours of your body aligning with his, you were aching for where he wasn’t yet filling you. 

“You’re too smug for someone who almost came after two seconds in my mouth,” you muttered, and Jake’s shoulders shook as he laughed. 

“Baby, you haven’t seen the beginning of smug,” he chuckled, but he leaned down to line himself up with you. 

Just the tip of him at your center had your eyes rolling back, and your hips frantically shifting. To have him so close, and not in you yet, was maddening, and you fully whined before you realized Jake was waiting. 

“Jake,” you panted, your hips rolling, helpless, “please, want you to fuck me, come on.”

Jake pressed into you obligingly, filling you with the head of his thick cock, and you spread your thighs, welcoming the stretch of him. But a moment later, he stilled, and you whimpered again. 

Jake kissed your cheek, pushing off of you enough to reach for your chin. He tilted your head up to meet his eyes, the green of them barely visible around his blown irises. “Want you to fuck me…?”

You moaned, knowing what he was asking, and felt a rush of arousal flood through you, just at the thought of begging him like that. 

“Jake—” you started, and he only had to pulled back slightly before you recanted. “Daddy—shit, please, fuck me. It’s been too long, need your cock inside of me, daddy, please—”

“That’s my girl,” Jake gritted, and then he moved his hips. 

God, what a man. 

It was like he was working you open, bludgeoning his way into your body and you spread wider and opened further to him, but there was still more of him to fill you. You moaned, a long broken sound as his hips worked closer to yours, his cock pressing deeper into you. 

“Fuck, it’s so good like that, isn’t it?” Jake asked, his voice rough. “Feeling you open up for me, honey, it’s the sweetest thing. Your tight pussy clenching around daddy’s cock, like you don’t want me to stop—”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasped, your body tightening further around him. “Feels so good; keep going.”

“Anything, baby,” Jake gritted, his head dropping to beside yours on a groan. You felt he meant it, with his breath shuddering through him, and the way his shoulders were shaking. You realized he was still working into you, holding himself back, and that wasn’t what you wanted at all—you wanted to feel him, all of him. 

“I can take it,” you whimpered, your hips pressing weakly up into him. “I can take it, daddy, let me feel all of you.”

Jake groaned, but his hips slammed forward, shoving the rest of his length into you. You cried out, the stretch of him brutal and perfect, and what you’d needed for months. Jake was around you, pinning you down with his body, filling and stretching you so perfectly, and you couldn’t help but come. 

“Fuck, baby, did you just—” Jake whispered, feeling you flutter around him, but it was all you could do to keep riding it out. You felt like you were coming out of your skin, like his touch was everything you needed but you needed it so much more for it. 

“Didn’t mean to,” you gasped, or maybe sobbed, your body shivering at the intensity of the orgasm. Jake propped himself up on his elbows, so his hands could run over your skin. He soothed you with his touch, his warm fingers and gentle hands sliding wherever he could reach, while his hips kept up a gentle rocking to help you through it. 

“Shh, you did so good, baby,” Jake promised, and you wanted to curl inside the warmth of his voice. “Such a good girl for me, for daddy, so perfect. Coming on my fingers, on my cock, baby that’s so hot.”

“Daddy,” you echoed, and you felt it settle over him. He’d let go of your hands, so you wrapped them around him, feeling his muscles work as he nudged his cock further inside of you. “Feels so good...”

“You have no idea, baby,” Jake said, and then he pulled partially out. “Shit, you cannot imagine how fucking perfect this pussy feels. Fluttering around me, can tell you missed me, makes me want to make sure you remember me here, all over.”

You moaned at the drag of his cock through your core, and the way he pressed back into you, perfect, full. 

“Yes, daddy,” you panted, unsure what you agreed, or wanted, but knowing it was more, “please.”

Jake grunted, reaching for your hands and winding his fingers between yours. He stretched your arms above your head, bracing himself in your grip, rutting in and out of you as you spread under him. 

You were pretty sure you’d melted into the bed. 

The cotton of Jake’s shirt felt scalding against your skin, but it was nothing against heat in his eyes. He was grunting with each thrust, fucking deep into you and your thighs burned where they were spread for him. His cock was brushing a deep part of you, and you couldn’t come again, not that quick, but it felt so damn good. 

“Shit, baby, this pussy,” Jake groaned, “She’s so tight for me. God, I missed you, baby, miss you so much. Miss you in my bed, in my arms, having you to come home to…”

His thrusts got sharper, and something clenched in your heart at his words. “I’m right here, baby,” you whispered. “I miss you too, so so much.”

“Baby,” Jake whispered, his voice impossibly soft, like you missing him was harder to bear than his own hurt. 

He pushed up, rising to his knees and his hands going to your waist to hold you to him. You moaned at the way he kept his cock in you, like he needed a change of position but not enough to be anywhere other than inside of you. He reached for a pillow to wedge under your hips, and then his hands wrapped around your waist again to pull you on and off his cock, when his gaze snagged on something on the nightstand. 

“Honey,” Jake said, his breathing still rough, but a thread of amusement in his voice, “did I interrupt your new year’s eve plans?”

You craned your head to follow his gaze, your cheeks heating when you saw your still-plugged-in vibrator. 

“Didn’t know if you were going to be able to call me,” you admitted, not sure why it felt like a secret. Jake had helped you pick out a number of toys for when he was away; it wasn’t like he didn’t know you had them. “It was just to help me get to sleep, it wasn’t—”

Jake reached for the vibrator, pressing it on, and holding a thumb over it, feeling the vibration. “Last I checked, that was my job,” he growled, possessiveness heavy on his voice, before he pressed the vibrator to your clit. 

You bowed off the bed, the sudden sharpness of the vibrations rocking through you. 

“Jake,” you moaned, collapsing back to the bed, reaching for him weakly, but in the position he’d pulled you into, you were spread beneath him, and couldn’t reach more than the hand holding the vibrator. 

“Who?” he said darkly, circling your clit with the vibrator. Sensations sparked through you, the vibrations intensifying the press of Jake’s cock within you, how unbelievably full you were, and how you couldn’t hide from him. 

“Daddy,” you sobbed, pulling on the hand that held the vibrator, not sure if you needed more, needed less, what you needed, just him. “Daddy, please—”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” Jake commanded, actually commanded, a voice he often used to order squadrons, and your eyes rolled back. “Come with my vibrator on your clit, my cock in your pussy, and you’re going to call me daddy until I come in this pussy, and finally keep her full.”

“Daddy,” you whimpered, begged, your legs shaking from the heat the vibrator was churning up under your skin. Jake started moving again, his hips slamming into you. His other hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as he fucked his cock impossibly deeper into you, holding the vibrator against your skin. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re gripping me so tight,” Jake groaned, his voice breaking as he slammed into you, “this pussy feels so good, you’re so good to me, baby, clenching around me, shit.”

“Jake,” you managed, your hands traveling up his arm and pulling weakly. Jake knew, of course he did, understood you were still with him, still into this, just needed him closer. He pulled you up and sat back; you all but collapsed into his lap, gravity now pulling you tightly onto Jake’s cock, shoved deeper by his thrusts. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jake groaned, and you realize the new position wedged the toy between you. The vibrations now moved over your clit and over the base of Jake’s cock, and his thrusts spread up, taking on a more frantic note. 

“Need you to come, baby,” Jake gritted and you shook your head. It was too much, too good, but you were pretty sure you couldn’t bear it if he stopped. You turned into his shoulder, your mouth gaping open on a continuous moan as he thrust up into you. 

“So deep,” you mumbled, your voice reedy. You couldn’t tell where he ended, what was melting you, his cock, the toy, the togetherness you’d gone crazy for missing. “So good, please—”

“I didn’t ask, honey,” Jake said, shifting the toy and making you cry out. “Come on daddy’s cock, baby, do it. Let me feel you milking my cock, need to feel the pussy I missed so fucking bad, need to feel my girl come on  my cock, come on.”

He let go of the vibrator, wedged it between your bodies and dug his hands into your waist, pulling you down on his cock. You moaned as he held his cock against that soft spot inside of you, as his toy shook you, as he mumbled things you couldn’t hear into your ear, and you fell apart. 

You couldn’t stop shaking. 

Everything was aflame, your body wrung out and floating and perfect, and you were crying but couldn’t stop your hips from moving. You needed more of Jake, needed him forever, needed him deeper and harder, and you were pretty sure you were rubbing yourself raw against him, but you couldn’t stop. 

“My beautiful girl,” Jake was whispering, his hips moving slower and he finally pulled his shirt over your head, wrapping you tightly against his chest. You could tell he was still hard, straining inside of you, and you were still shaking, but you tightened around him as best you could. 

“Shit, baby,” Jake choked, and you licked at his chest. He was salty and slick with sweat, and you were dead weight in his arms, but you needed to feel him, needed more of him, and you were burning alive with it. 

“Come for me, Jake,” you asked, needing it. 

Jake groaned, like he was just holding himself together, and your words might undo him. 

“Give me a sec, baby,” he gritted, even as his hips punched up before he could stop them. “That was a lot, need to make sure you’re—”

“Come in me, Jake,” you whispered, another kiss to his chest. “Let me feel you.”

Your back hit the mattress and Jake crawled over you again. His hair was slick with sweat as he hovered over you, his beautiful profile illuminated in moonlight, and he reached between you again. His touch was light over your clit, not to stoke anything, but a gentle touch to soothe you there, and you melted into the bed. You curled a hand behind Jake’s head, and his eyes fluttered shut at the softness in your touch. 

“You’re so fucking good to me, baby,” he said, his voice almost tortured.

You could say the same to him. 

His cock was so hard inside of you, and you could feel him trembling, just waiting, so you licked your lips, and waited for him to look at you again. 

“Jake, I need you like this,” you whispered, and his hips pushed forward. Your mouth fell open, and you whined out your final request, “Breed me, daddy.”

Jake groaned, his shoulders dropping to the mattress. At first he braced himself against the bed, but then he reached under you, holding your shoulders and pressing your body to him, needing to be so close to you as he rutted into you. 

“I love you so much,” he groaned into your shoulder, his teeth catching as he thrust. “Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna come, baby, gonna fill you up…”

His hips slammed into yours and you lifted your body weakly to meet him. The world was a midnight cloud around you, there was only this bed, your husband, the strength of his body as he used it to cleave to yours. His hips pumped, once, twice, and then he stilled as a long moan poured past his clenched teeth. You whimpered as Jake spent inside of you, your body opening for him, taking the final promise of his presence, that he was here, that he was yours. 

“Just like that, baby,” you whispered into his hair, your hand still playing with the damp hair at the base of his neck, and Jake groaned. His hips moved of their own accord, weakly fucking his release into you, and you smoothed your hand over the muscles of his back.

You lay there together, until the sweat on your skin reminded you that it was December, and Jake reached out blindly for the blanket. 

“Happy New Year, Mrs Seresin,” he mumbled, pulling you into his side as the blanket wrapped the two of you closer. 

“Ten!”

Well, this was stupid. 

It wasn’t even the New Year in California, but the ball was dropping in New York City and the pixelated screen over the bar at The Hard Deck was broadcasting the display, and now everyone was counting down. 

“Nine!”

You swirled your soda in a mason jar, Penny’s attempt to make sure you felt included, even though you both knew you had to stay sober because you were 100% the one driving yourself home tonight. 

“Eight!”

It wasn’t even like you’d never been alone on New Year’s Eve before. 

In fact, having Jake to kiss when the clock passed midnight had been a more recent development, and five years against the rest of your life was really only a fractional number. 

“Seven!”

This year, you’d spent a lonely holiday in Texas with the Seresins, all painfully aware of the empty seat at the table. And they were a lovely family, and it was special to facetime Jake with all of them, but so bittersweet to know he was just four hours south in Corpus Christi, leading officer’s training. Your flight back to San Diego hadn’t come soon enough. 

“Six!”

Natasha and Javy meant well, and you were grateful they’d insisted you come out, rather than wallowing in your house, alone. You hadn’t dressed up—for all that it was an institution, the Hard Deck was still just a bar—jeans that fit you well, and a college tshirt of Jake’s, offset by lipstick that you’d never wear if your husband was here, for how he’d grumble about not being able to kiss you for fear of smudging it. 

At first, it’d been fun to play pool, suggest increasingly obscure songs for Rooster to struggle through on the piano, and then rifle through songs on the Jukebox when he gave up. But then you’d been across the bar, as the Daggers settled into their partners or the single ones found equally devastatingly beautiful people to talk to, and someone had played a Randy Travis song on the jukebox. 

“Five!”

Not just any Randy Travis song, but “Forever and Ever, Amen” —the sweet, hokey song that had been playing over the loudspeakers at the Poway rodeo five years ago, when Jake had spun you around in the dark parking lot and whispered “I think I love you” into your hair. 

“Four!”

Coming out had been a stupid idea. 

In addition to keeping your left hand practically glued to your shoulder, in clear line of sight so that enterprising sailors could see the rock Jake had put there, and discourage them from trying a line, you were about to ring in the new year three hours early, in a bar, without your husband. 

Nope, you decided, it was time  to drive yourself back to your home—nevermind that it was too small for you and Jake, but somehow felt cavernously empty with just you there—put on Christmas pajamas, give yourself a perfunctory orgasm with the vibrator you’d made sure to plug in before you left, and then cry yourself to sleep in peace.

“Three!”

You put your glass in the bus bin on the end of the bar, grateful Penny had kept your tab current. She was probably in some back room with Mav, so you weren’t keen to find her to settle before you left. 

A quick look around the bar saw your friends with their arms around each other, their sweethearts, and hot strangers, and the smile on your face felt bittersweet. The 13 weeks of officer training wasn’t even that long, even if it felt like an eternity to you, but they deserved to start the new year without your rainy cloud of melancholy hovering over them.

“Two!”

The crowd of people seemed especially dense, as folks clinked glasses together and pressed closer to the heart of the bar as the countdown got louder. You knew you needed to be outside, away from the crush before ‘midnight’ hit, so you ignored it when you heard Natasha calling for you to wait. 

“One!”

And you should’ve panicked. 

You should’ve pulled away immediately when a hand closed over your arm, when someone pulled you back to face them, when green eyes winked at you, but before you realized it was Jake, before you recognized the smell and presence, and rightness of him being there, you knew. 

“Happy New Year!!!!”

The bar erupted in cheers and Jake dipped you, like the end of one of the countless line dance moves he’d taught you over the years, and you kissed him even as your mind raced to catch up with the impossibility of him being in this bar.

“How are you here?” you whispered, and Jake pulled you up to standing. 

“Couldn’t let you start the new year without me,” Jake shrugged, like that made 1,418 miles pass in the blink of an eye, and maybe it did. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his banded around your waist. You feet may have left the floor, for how tightly he was hugging you, but he was pulling even closer.

“Don’t know if that’s your shade, Seresin,” a voice behind you said, and a second later, Jake rocked forward as Bradley smacked his shoulder, the two of them laughing at your lipstick smeared across Jake’s lips. 

Your husband was pulled into hugs by the rest of his former crew, and you let him go reluctantly—you’d facetimed him last week for Christmas, and they hadn’t seen him before officer training had started. New rounds were ordered, introductions to strangers were made, and you were wedged under Jake’s arm. You didn’t know how long he was in town for, and the fact that he was in his khakis didn’t bode well, so you were sticking as close to him as physically possible. 

Jake must’ve been feeling some of the same clinginess, because, earlier than he normally would’ve opted, he was steering you out the door. 

It still wasn’t anywhere close to midnight, but the ocean air was cool, wrapping around you as you stepped out of the Hard Deck. Jake’s hand found yours as you walked toward the car, and you squeezed his fingers. Before he opened the door for you, he guided your back to the car, and your head tipped up to meet him. 

Unlike earlier, there was no surprise in this kiss, just Jake. The softness of his lips, the taste of cider on his tongue, the way he smelled like the cloves and pine of his cologne, rather than the planes he must’ve been in and out of today. His tongue swept your bottom lip and you opened for him, accepting a deeper kiss. 

God, you’d missed him. 

So damn much, and you knew you should be grateful he was only a couple states away, but having him back in your arms reminded you that you’d almost started the year without him. 

Jake seemed to sense your urgency, his body pressing against yours, and you curled into the warmth of him. 

He pulled back, too soon, his forehead pressing to yours. 

“Let’s get you home, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, and you felt your cheeks heat at the gravel in his voice. You leaned up to brush a kiss against his jaw, and pushed off the door so he could open it for you. Jake let you into the car, jogging around the front of it to get behind the wheel. A moment later, his hand was sliding across the center, palm up, and you placed yours in his. His broad fingers wrapped around yours, and you smiled as you pulled away from the curb. 

It was a quick drive, quiet, and you were comfortable in the silence. Jake’s thumb brushed back and forth across the top of your hand, and you tried to ignore the sparks his simple touch sent up your spine. 

“How long are you home for?” you asked, as he parked in the driveway. 

“They have me heading back on an overnight tomorrow,” Jake responded. “Training starts up again at 0800 on the 2nd, so you’ve got me till this time tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as much as you’d hoped, but more than you’d expected. Jake’s grip on your fingers tightened slightly, and you knew he felt the same. 

You’d barely gotten through the front door when Jake’s hands were on you. 

You could feel the warmth of his palms through the thin cotton of your tee, and even the thicker denim of your jeans. His hands were greedy as he guided you deeper into the kitchen, his lips seeking yours as you whimpered into his kiss, months of longing condensing into the urgency of this moment. Dishes rattled as Jake pressed you against the cabinets, and a moment later, his hands dipped lower to the bottom of your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. 

You scooted to the edge eagerly, appreciating the proximity of the angle. Jake fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head back to control the angle of the kiss and you felt yourself go molten. Heat followed his touch as he ran his other hand over you—your thighs, waist, back to the front of your shirt. It was like he was convincing himself you were here, reassuring himself by touch, and you were more than willing. 

“Were you missing me, honey?” he asked, his fingers skimming over the familiar cotton of his tshirt, a statement of the obvious. 

You nodded, gasping when his hands slipped under the shirt. He trailed kisses down your neck, and you squirmed as he reached around you to undo your bra. You shrugged out of it, unsurprised that Jake wanted access to your boobs but not at the cost of taking his clothing off of you. His mouth continued hotly down your collarbone, his fingers closing around your breasts and he groaned at the weight of them in his fingers. Your back arched, an automatic response to his touch, craving more of him, and Jake brushed his thumbs over your nipples. He looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours as he kissed over the fabric, lower, his lips drawing your breasts into his mouth through the fabric of his shirt. 

“Jake,” you whispered his name, the heat of his tongue dragging over fabric, drawing your nipple to a stiff peak. You hadn’t realized your hand had wound into his hair until he grunted as your fingers pulled, laving his tongue over you. His ministrations turned the thin fabric almost translucent, a display of both your desire, and you whimpered as his hand tightened on your other breast. 

“You always look so good in my clothes, baby,” Jake muttered against your chest, switching to the other nipple. His tongue was punishing, and you felt your pulse quicken as he sucked on your fevered skin. Jake was always so attentive to you, so keyed in to what was working, but you’d missed him so much, pretty much everything was doing it for you, right now. 

“Yours,” you said, your voice already shaking, “wanted to look like yours.”

Jake groaned, his teeth nipping at you lightly before he straightened. 

“Mine,” he repeated, before his lips reclaimed yours. His kiss was frenzied and messy, and you loved that he was just as desperate for you as you were for him. Your hips were rocking towards him, and when you reached the edge of the counter, your zipper met his khakis and you broke away from his kiss with a gasp. 

Your jeans were fitting a little tighter these days, a fact you were grateful for as the pressure of his body against yours ground over your clit. You rocked your hips back slowly, a whine slipping out of your throat at the heavenly drag of wet fabric over your pussy. 

“That needy for me already, honey?” Jake asked, satisfaction thick on his voice, and you loved the sound of it. You nodded mutely, more than happy to stroke his ego, and rewarded when he dropped a hand to undo the button of your jeans. It shouldn’t have been hot how quickly he had your jeans undone and his hand in your pants, but it was, it really fucking was. Your head fell back at the first brush of Jake’s thumb over your aching core, and your husband chuckled, his shoulders shaking under your tight grip. 

“Honey,” he whispered, dragging a knuckle through your folds, meeting no resistance, “is this all for me?”

Obviously, you wanted to snipe at him, but you couldn’t, not when he felt this good. 

His finger was so thick, and there wasn’t much room between the front of your pants and the hand cupped over your pussy; you ground your hips against him, and Jake shifted so you could move against his palm, and you moaned at the feeling. His rough palm, his fingers slipping lower, the sureness of his touch, like he couldn’t be more certain that this was exactly what you wanted, because it was. You were pretty sure you could come just from the fact that he had crammed his hand so close to you, and you reached for him again, kissing him messily as you ground against his hand. 

“Good girl,” Jake praised, his voice deep against your lips, “God, you’re soaking my hand. You feel so fucking good, baby, humping yourself against my palm. How’s that feel, hmm?”

It felt amazing, it always did with him. The roughness of his hand, the way he held you steady, it was perfect. Your hips sped up, and you bit your lower lip as you built your orgasm. His fingers felt so good over you, but you needed him in you. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, and you were practically lifting yourself off the counter to get closer to him, but Jake was holding back. 

“Jake,” you panted, your hips canting into his touch. “Touch me, please.”

“Baby,” Jake said, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice, and you whimpered as he held his hand still. “Need something to fuck yourself onto, don’t you?”

“Please,” you gasped. “Jake, please, yes, want to feel you.”

Jake hummed, dipped his head to kiss lightly along your neck, like he was considering it. He ground his palm against your core and you whimpered, your hips rising to meet him, but Jake tightened a hand on your hip, holding you in place. 

“Ask me nice, baby,” he said, his voice dropping impossibly deeper, as he pressed another wet kiss to your throat. 

His words registered a moment after you heard them, and you blinked your eyes open, flitting between his. 

It was something you’d sexted about, during his assignment to Corpus Christi. Something you’d read about, in your romance novels that Jake teased you about, and something he’d told you he wanted to try, but you’d never said it aloud to him.

“Jake,” you whined, not sure why you were shy suddenly. He called you any number of pet names, and they never had any deeper meaning, but this felt forbidden.

“Baby,” Jake taunted back, and you shivered at the anticipation in his voice. He pushed against your jeans, keeping steady pressure on your clit with his palm, but curling his fingers back. You felt him trace between your thighs, a tease, a promise, he was just waiting for you. 

You closed your eyes. 

“Touch me, Jake,” you whispered. “Please…daddy.”

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, the curse ripped out of him like you’d truly leveled him with a word. He slammed two fingers into you and you keened, arching off he counter and curling into him. “That’s right, baby, take it. Good girls get what they ask for, when they ask for it right, and that’s the sweetest you’ve ever asked, isn’t it?”

You moaned, your thighs shaking as you shoved your hips back to meet his hand. You were clinging to him, shoulders braced against upper cabinets but suspended by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his hand thrusting in and out of your cunt. He felt so good, his fingers so much longer and thicker than yours, filling you. 

“Look at me,” Jake gritted, and you lifted your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were piercing in the dark of the kitchen, and you saw he was breathing hard. His gaze raked over you. 

“Fuck, baby, how could I stay away? I’ve got the prettiest girl just waiting for me, her cunt weeping and so fucking ready for me—God, you feel so good, baby, you’re so fucking tight. Will you come for me like this? Just with daddy’s voice and fingers?”

Your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself tighten when he called himself it. Fuck, why was that so hot??

You meant to moan his name, but all that came out was the most pitiful whine of “daddy,” and Jake groaned. 

“That’s right, baby, I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good, honey, you’re doing so good for me. Taking my fingers so fucking well, like you always do. God, you gotta come for me, baby, gotta loosen up so you can take me. I have to be inside you, need you so badly, baby—”

Jake broke off in a moan, your hips bucking wildly into his hand. 

You reached blindly for him, pulling his face back to yours and Jake kissed you messily, his fingers stroking inside you as his tongue licked into your mouth. You could feel how hard he was breathing, holding you up and seeking your pleasure as greedily as if it was his own, and his palm ground harder against your clit and you shattered against his hand. 

Jake groaned, feeling your release on his fingers, drenching your panties. “Fuck, honey, look at you, coming for me. You did so good, did that feel good, baby? You’re so beautiful for me, like this.”

You moaned, your hips still weakly flexing against Jake’s hand, riding out your orgasm. Your skin felt on fire, and the air around you felt cold suddenly, and you realized Jake had set you back down on the counter. Through heavy eyes, you watched him pull his hands out of your pants, watched him lick you off his fingers, and his shoulders slacken at your taste.

He bent down, pulling off your shoes and tossing them somewhere behind him, before giving your jeans the same treatment. Then he was pulling off his khakis, a foresight that made your cheeks heat, because if he got any closer to you right now, you’d ruin his uniform. When he stood before you in just his boxers, he pulled you to him, a rumble of contentment rolling through him when you pressed against his chest. 

He was broad, and smelled so good, and he wrapped his arms around you like he wanted nothing more than to warm you. Your wet tshirt snagged against your breasts, but you snuggled against him anyways, and Jake’s arms tightened, like he also couldn’t get close enough. 

“That okay?” he mumbled against your hair, and your nodded. Only your husband would bring you to the fastest orgasm of your life, wring you out on the kitchen counter, and then check in if you were okay with his guilty pleasure nickname. You turned your head to kiss his chest, surprised to taste salt on your lips. It pleased you that what you’d just done was hot enough to work Jake Seresin into a sweat. 

“More than okay,” you said honestly, pulling back to smile up at him. “Now what’s this about needing to be inside of me?”

“Nothing new there,” Jake said, his eyes roaming your face. He tipped his head to the side. “Need water, or anything?”

You shook your head. “Just you, Jake.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile, and he framed your face with his hands, kissing you gently. You ran your fingers up his side, feeling goosebumps rise in your wake, and smiling against his lips when Jake leaned into you, like he couldn’t help it. Your hands trailed down, one of your hands coming to the front of Jake’s boxers, and you lifted your chin, breaking the kiss to watch Jake’s expression as you reached between his legs. 

How was it possible to miss him this much? 

It made you shiver to feel the hot length pressing against the front of his boxers, like every inch of him was straining for your touch. You ran your hand over his bulge, and Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, before his hand stopped your wrist. When he stepped back from the counter, you hopped off of it, following him eagerly to the bedroom. Jake turned to you, his grip on your wrist tightening to help you onto the bed, but you had other ideas. 

You dropped to your knees, fingers curling around the hem of Jake’s pants as you went.

“Honey,” Jake protested, but you grinned at him from the ground. Jake would call you greedy when you were begging for him between your legs, but you’d call yourself just as greedy here. You’d already cum for him, and now you wanted the taste and weight of him on your tongue. 

“Let me taste you first,” you said, pulling down his boxers, and looking up at him through your lashes, already smirking before you added, “Daddy.”

Jake groaned, his head tipping back to the ceiling. “You’re gonna be too dangerous with that, aren’t you?”

You liked the thought of being dangerous, just to him. 

When you pulled his boxers down his thighs, his cock bounced free, and you cooed at the precum smeared over the tip. It was so hot that he’d gotten this hard from fingering you, making you cum. You didn’t know what your expression was doing, but Jake mumbled something to himself, running a hand through his hair, his other settling on the top of your head, a gentle caress. 

You wrapped your palm around his base, squeezing lightly, and traced your tongue over a vein on the side of Jake’s cock. Jake’s breath stuttered, and part of you wanted to keep teasing him, but the other part of you wanted to take him, hard, like he’d taken you. 

You wet your lips, opened your mouth, and took your husband’s cock as deep as you could. 

Jake stumbled, knees fully buckling, and pride swelled in your chest as his cock hit the back of your throat before he straightened. 

“Baby,” Jake groaned, “Jesus, that mouth…”

You hummed around his cock, pulling yourself back and bracing your hands on the front of his thighs. You couldn’t take all of him down your throat, not this quickly, he was too thick. But you wanted to, and you set up a quick rhythm, sliding your mouth up and down his length. The salty taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue, made your movements slower than you wanted, but you stretched around him as best you could. 

“Such a good girl for me,” Jake murmured. “Christ, baby, look at you. Couldn’t even wait to get to the bed to take daddy’s cock.”

You moaned; you loved when he praised you like this—eyes barely open, mouth hanging slack, awed by you. 

You still felt shivery from your orgasm, but his words were like wind over embers, slowly rekindling heat. You bobbed your head, twisting your hand at his base, and your other hand reaching up to cup his balls. At your first touch, Jake jolted, and he swore quietly, before pulling you off of him. A moment later, his hands closed around your upper arms, pulling you to your feet. 

“Gonna finish too quickly if you start that,” he muttered. He kissed you, moaning at the taste of him on your lips, and then he moved quickly, tossing you onto the bed. You gasped when you hit the bed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, but Jake was already crawling over you, his hands pinning your arms to the bed.  You writhed, your body pressing up against his, addicted to the slide of bare skin between you. 

“Every damn part of you,” Jake muttered against your skin, sucking in a long breath through his nose as he ran it along your neck, “that mouth, your cunt, every fucking inch of you feels so good, baby.”

He sank on top of you, and you moaned, your arms clasping around his back as his weight settled over you. His sharp body, hard were you were soft, was the most delicious friction, and you gasped when his cock brushed between your thighs. 

You tried to lift your hips, seeking him, but his weight had you pinned. Jake seemed content with the contours of your body aligning with his, you were aching for where he wasn’t yet filling you. 

“You’re too smug for someone who almost came after two seconds in my mouth,” you muttered, and Jake’s shoulders shook as he laughed. 

“Baby, you haven’t seen the beginning of smug,” he chuckled, but he leaned down to line himself up with you. 

Just the tip of him at your center had your eyes rolling back, and your hips frantically shifting. To have him so close, and not in you yet, was maddening, and you fully whined before you realized Jake was waiting. 

“Jake,” you panted, your hips rolling, helpless, “please, want you to fuck me, come on.”

Jake pressed into you obligingly, filling you with the head of his thick cock, and you spread your thighs, welcoming the stretch of him. But a moment later, he stilled, and you whimpered again. 

Jake kissed your cheek, pushing off of you enough to reach for your chin. He tilted your head up to meet his eyes, the green of them barely visible around his blown irises. “Want you to fuck me…?”

You moaned, knowing what he was asking, and felt a rush of arousal flood through you, just at the thought of begging him like that. 

“Jake—” you started, and he only had to pulled back slightly before you recanted. “Daddy—shit, please, fuck me. It’s been too long, need your cock inside of me, daddy, please—”

“That’s my girl,” Jake gritted, and then he moved his hips. 

God, what a man. 

It was like he was working you open, bludgeoning his way into your body and you spread wider and opened further to him, but there was still more of him to fill you. You moaned, a long broken sound as his hips worked closer to yours, his cock pressing deeper into you. 

“Fuck, it’s so good like that, isn’t it?” Jake asked, his voice rough. “Feeling you open up for me, honey, it’s the sweetest thing. Your tight pussy clenching around daddy’s cock, like you don’t want me to stop—”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasped, your body tightening further around him. “Feels so good; keep going.”

“Anything, baby,” Jake gritted, his head dropping to beside yours on a groan. You felt he meant it, with his breath shuddering through him, and the way his shoulders were shaking. You realized he was still working into you, holding himself back, and that wasn’t what you wanted at all—you wanted to feel him, all of him. 

“I can take it,” you whimpered, your hips pressing weakly up into him. “I can take it, daddy, let me feel all of you.”

Jake groaned, but his hips slammed forward, shoving the rest of his length into you. You cried out, the stretch of him brutal and perfect, and what you’d needed for months. Jake was around you, pinning you down with his body, filling and stretching you so perfectly, and you couldn’t help but come. 

“Fuck, baby, did you just—” Jake whispered, feeling you flutter around him, but it was all you could do to keep riding it out. You felt like you were coming out of your skin, like his touch was everything you needed but you needed it so much more for it. 

“Didn’t mean to,” you gasped, or maybe sobbed, your body shivering at the intensity of the orgasm. Jake propped himself up on his elbows, so his hands could run over your skin. He soothed you with his touch, his warm fingers and gentle hands sliding wherever he could reach, while his hips kept up a gentle rocking to help you through it. 

“Shh, you did so good, baby,” Jake promised, and you wanted to curl inside the warmth of his voice. “Such a good girl for me, for daddy, so perfect. Coming on my fingers, on my cock, baby that’s so hot.”

“Daddy,” you echoed, and you felt it settle over him. He’d let go of your hands, so you wrapped them around him, feeling his muscles work as he nudged his cock further inside of you. “Feels so good...”

“You have no idea, baby,” Jake said, and then he pulled partially out. “Shit, you cannot imagine how fucking perfect this pussy feels. Fluttering around me, can tell you missed me, makes me want to make sure you remember me here, all over.”

You moaned at the drag of his cock through your core, and the way he pressed back into you, perfect, full. 

“Yes, daddy,” you panted, unsure what you agreed, or wanted, but knowing it was more, “please.”

Jake grunted, reaching for your hands and winding his fingers between yours. He stretched your arms above your head, bracing himself in your grip, rutting in and out of you as you spread under him. 

You were pretty sure you’d melted into the bed. 

The cotton of Jake’s shirt felt scalding against your skin, but it was nothing against heat in his eyes. He was grunting with each thrust, fucking deep into you and your thighs burned where they were spread for him. His cock was brushing a deep part of you, and you couldn’t come again, not that quick, but it felt so damn good. 

“Shit, baby, this pussy,” Jake groaned, “She’s so tight for me. God, I missed you, baby, miss you so much. Miss you in my bed, in my arms, having you to come home to…”

His thrusts got sharper, and something clenched in your heart at his words. “I’m right here, baby,” you whispered. “I miss you too, so so much.”

“Baby,” Jake whispered, his voice impossibly soft, like you missing him was harder to bear than his own hurt. 

He pushed up, rising to his knees and his hands going to your waist to hold you to him. You moaned at the way he kept his cock in you, like he needed a change of position but not enough to be anywhere other than inside of you. He reached for a pillow to wedge under your hips, and then his hands wrapped around your waist again to pull you on and off his cock, when his gaze snagged on something on the nightstand. 

“Honey,” Jake said, his breathing still rough, but a thread of amusement in his voice, “did I interrupt your new year’s eve plans?”

You craned your head to follow his gaze, your cheeks heating when you saw your still-plugged-in vibrator. 

“Didn’t know if you were going to be able to call me,” you admitted, not sure why it felt like a secret. Jake had helped you pick out a number of toys for when he was away; it wasn’t like he didn’t know you had them. “It was just to help me get to sleep, it wasn’t—”

Jake reached for the vibrator, pressing it on, and holding a thumb over it, feeling the vibration. “Last I checked, that was my job,” he growled, possessiveness heavy on his voice, before he pressed the vibrator to your clit. 

You bowed off the bed, the sudden sharpness of the vibrations rocking through you. 

“Jake,” you moaned, collapsing back to the bed, reaching for him weakly, but in the position he’d pulled you into, you were spread beneath him, and couldn’t reach more than the hand holding the vibrator. 

“Who?” he said darkly, circling your clit with the vibrator. Sensations sparked through you, the vibrations intensifying the press of Jake’s cock within you, how unbelievably full you were, and how you couldn’t hide from him. 

“Daddy,” you sobbed, pulling on the hand that held the vibrator, not sure if you needed more, needed less, what you needed, just him. “Daddy, please—”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” Jake commanded, actually commanded, a voice he often used to order squadrons, and your eyes rolled back. “Come with my vibrator on your clit, my cock in your pussy, and you’re going to call me daddy until I come in this pussy, and finally keep her full.”

“Daddy,” you whimpered, begged, your legs shaking from the heat the vibrator was churning up under your skin. Jake started moving again, his hips slamming into you. His other hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as he fucked his cock impossibly deeper into you, holding the vibrator against your skin. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re gripping me so tight,” Jake groaned, his voice breaking as he slammed into you, “this pussy feels so good, you’re so good to me, baby, clenching around me, shit.”

“Jake,” you managed, your hands traveling up his arm and pulling weakly. Jake knew, of course he did, understood you were still with him, still into this, just needed him closer. He pulled you up and sat back; you all but collapsed into his lap, gravity now pulling you tightly onto Jake’s cock, shoved deeper by his thrusts. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jake groaned, and you realize the new position wedged the toy between you. The vibrations now moved over your clit and over the base of Jake’s cock, and his thrusts spread up, taking on a more frantic note. 

“Need you to come, baby,” Jake gritted and you shook your head. It was too much, too good, but you were pretty sure you couldn’t bear it if he stopped. You turned into his shoulder, your mouth gaping open on a continuous moan as he thrust up into you. 

“So deep,” you mumbled, your voice reedy. You couldn’t tell where he ended, what was melting you, his cock, the toy, the togetherness you’d gone crazy for missing. “So good, please—”

“I didn’t ask, honey,” Jake said, shifting the toy and making you cry out. “Come on daddy’s cock, baby, do it. Let me feel you milking my cock, need to feel the pussy I missed so fucking bad, need to feel my girl come on  my cock, come on.”

He let go of the vibrator, wedged it between your bodies and dug his hands into your waist, pulling you down on his cock. You moaned as he held his cock against that soft spot inside of you, as his toy shook you, as he mumbled things you couldn’t hear into your ear, and you fell apart. 

You couldn’t stop shaking. 

Everything was aflame, your body wrung out and floating and perfect, and you were crying but couldn’t stop your hips from moving. You needed more of Jake, needed him forever, needed him deeper and harder, and you were pretty sure you were rubbing yourself raw against him, but you couldn’t stop. 

“My beautiful girl,” Jake was whispering, his hips moving slower and he finally pulled his shirt over your head, wrapping you tightly against his chest. You could tell he was still hard, straining inside of you, and you were still shaking, but you tightened around him as best you could. 

“Shit, baby,” Jake choked, and you licked at his chest. He was salty and slick with sweat, and you were dead weight in his arms, but you needed to feel him, needed more of him, and you were burning alive with it. 

“Come for me, Jake,” you asked, needing it. 

Jake groaned, like he was just holding himself together, and your words might undo him. 

“Give me a sec, baby,” he gritted, even as his hips punched up before he could stop them. “That was a lot, need to make sure you’re—”

“Come in me, Jake,” you whispered, another kiss to his chest. “Let me feel you.”

Your back hit the mattress and Jake crawled over you again. His hair was slick with sweat as he hovered over you, his beautiful profile illuminated in moonlight, and he reached between you again. His touch was light over your clit, not to stoke anything, but a gentle touch to soothe you there, and you melted into the bed. You curled a hand behind Jake’s head, and his eyes fluttered shut at the softness in your touch. 

“You’re so fucking good to me, baby,” he said, his voice almost tortured.

You could say the same to him. 

His cock was so hard inside of you, and you could feel him trembling, just waiting, so you licked your lips, and waited for him to look at you again. 

“Jake, I need you like this,” you whispered, and his hips pushed forward. Your mouth fell open, and you whined out your final request, “Breed me, daddy.”

Jake groaned, his shoulders dropping to the mattress. At first he braced himself against the bed, but then he reached under you, holding your shoulders and pressing your body to him, needing to be so close to you as he rutted into you. 

“I love you so much,” he groaned into your shoulder, his teeth catching as he thrust. “Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna come, baby, gonna fill you up…”

His hips slammed into yours and you lifted your body weakly to meet him. The world was a midnight cloud around you, there was only this bed, your husband, the strength of his body as he used it to cleave to yours. His hips pumped, once, twice, and then he stilled as a long moan poured past his clenched teeth. You whimpered as Jake spent inside of you, your body opening for him, taking the final promise of his presence, that he was here, that he was yours. 

“Just like that, baby,” you whispered into his hair, your hand still playing with the damp hair at the base of his neck, and Jake groaned. His hips moved of their own accord, weakly fucking his release into you, and you smoothed your hand over the muscles of his back.

You lay there together, until the sweat on your skin reminded you that it was December, and Jake reached out blindly for the blanket. 

“Happy New Year, Mrs Seresin,” he mumbled, pulling you into his side as the blanket wrapped the two of you closer.