Page 159 of The Prodigal Son

“God, I love you,” I mumble before taking his mouth again.

I should probably care that we’re in a church and there’s a large photo of Jesus on the wall behind my desk, but honestly, I don’t. This is what we were made for. This is the purest form of love and devotion. There is nothing truly wicked in our hearts when I’m with Isaac. It’s only good and pure.

Although, when he looks at me like that and I think about all the filthy things I want to do to him, I do feel alittlewicked.

Hooking my hands under his thighs, I lift him onto the desk and position myself between his knees. He leans back and stares up at me with his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, and I have to admire just how stunning this man is. And he’s allmine.

I stroke my cock lazily as I take my fill. Isaac reaches behind him into the top drawer of my desk to find the lube I keep stashed there for…emergencies. He shoves it at me, but I press it back toward him.

“Let me watch you prep yourself,” I mutter huskily.

“Yes, Daddy,” he replies with a wink. Taking a step back, I watch as my hot-as-hell husband sprawls across my desk, one foot up on the surface, as he preps his tight hole for me. It takes everything in me not to come just from watching.

My eyes catch on the new tattoo adorning his right forearm. It’s a line of sheet music with the notes of our song, the one he wrote for me early in our relationship.

His jaw hangs slack and his eyes are hooded as he works in a second finger. My cock leaks from the tip and I almost lose it. Grabbing the lube from the desk, I flip open the top and squirt a generous amount on my cock.

“Come here,” I bark as I slap away his hand and drag his ass to the edge of the desk. Holding his balls in my palm, I sink my wet cock into him. He throws his head back with a groan.

“Your ass is heaven,” I say, my voice tight and breathless.

“You feel so fucking good,” he cries out. His head is hanging off the opposite side of the desk as I fuck him. Pulling out to the tip, I drive my cock back in forcefully.

Isaac is stroking his cock slowly and I watch as cum leaks from the tip with every one of my thrusts. I swipe a bead of it with my finger and lift it to my lips. The flavor explodes on my tongue.

I want to be consumed by him. Taste, touch, smell—I want it all.

“Harder, Jensen. Fuck me harder.” He’s stroking himself faster now, the other hand buried in his hair.

“What my husband wants, my husband gets,” I reply with a smile. He opens his eyes and grins at me. This connection between us is more than I ever imagined love could be. He is everything to me. My own soul. My own beating heart.

Tugging him even farther toward me, I hook both my hands under his thighs and pound into him unrelentingly. He criesout louder. At this point, I’m no longer fighting my climax but rushing toward it. I can’t take my eyes off his pleasure-laced expression and the vigorous movement of his fist as he fucks it.

I want him to come first, but I’m so close I don’t know if he’ll get there in time.

“Come for your daddy, Isaac,” I growl, tilting my hips up to find that spot inside him that shoves him over the edge. His cock unloads immediately, spraying his fist and chest with his cum.

My legs shudder as my orgasm barrels into me. I can’t breathe as I come hard, filling Isaac with my release. He’s still in the throes of his own orgasm, back arched and stroking the life out of his cock.

Moments later, we’re both wrung dry and exhausted, panting and waiting for our hearts to slow. With a sex-dazed smile, he stares up at me before taking my left hand and running his fingers over the gold band there.

After slowly pulling out of him, I grab some tissues and quickly clean him up. Gripping his hand in mine, I help him up and wrap my arms around him so our naked bodies are pressed together.

His breath tickles my neck as he whispers, “Thank you for loving me.”

With my lips against the side of his head, I whisper, “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll love you until the day I die, Isaac Goode.”

He smiles against my neck. “Right back at you, Jensen Goode.”

Pulling away, I tip up his chin as I smile. “Oh, I love the sound of that.”

“Me too,” he says before planting his lips on mine again.

The decision for me to take his name was easy. Isaac had just returned to his family—I didn’t want to immediately take him away. And sure, a name is just a name and changing it doesn’tactually signify leaving one’s family at all, but in all honesty, I just wanted to be a Goode too.

Isaac and I put our suits back on and clean up the mess on my desk. My office smells of sex, and I shamelessly love it.

We walk out together, hand in hand, to head for the off-site wedding reception, where our families are waiting. I open his door for him, and he climbs in with a sated smile. As I walk around to my side, I look back at the building behind me, and gratitude swells in my chest.

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