Epilogue

"Do you think this garden plot works?" Beckett was earnestly going over the plans for the kitchen garden we'd been considering for over a year. The majority of Beckett's plot remained fully wooded, but we'd cleared space to allow for a backyard renovation and garden area.

"The person you should ask is Jonas. When is he coming over to look at what you want?"

"Next week, but, yeah, I just want it decided so it's done and ready. Now that the house is finished, I want the yard over with too. We have to make a good impression."

Ah, that's what was going on.

I closed my laptop and set aside my documents for work. Beckett stared at his laptop like it held all the secrets to the universe. I was sure his planning app had many answers, but maybe not the one he hoped to find.

Since my former boss retired last year, I'd taken over the community outreach program at the local hospital. I missed working in the ER, but I had more flexibility in my schedule, which would be important, hopefully sooner rather than later. I wanted to prioritize my life over my job these days. Beckett's schedule would almost certainly be less predictable than mine, and we were committed to having one parent or the other available as much as possible.

A quick glance down at my ring finger was enough to remind me that, somehow, this beautiful man was all mine. We went to England and the Netherlands last year and discovered we were each other's favorite travel partners.

Beckett had been ridiculously excited about the Jack the Ripper tour and the botanical garden tours. Over in the Netherlands, we'd visited all the windmills and flower farms and eaten our weight in cheese. We'd also discovered the Island of Aero in Denmark and had returned from there last week. We'd decided to elope and it was the perfect wedding for us.

Beckett was so engrossed in the perfection of his bed planning that he hadn't even noticed I'd crossed the short expanse of the yard. He didn't look up until I was right next to him. He finally looked up, and the secret smile he saved only for me flashed across his face. I moved his laptop, climbed on him, and straddled his lap.

"Sweetheart, our home study isn't going to hinge on the garden being perfect. I promise. The surrogacy agency and the adoption agency won't judge us for them."

"But they might. They will want to see we're ready for children, and a proper place to play outside is part of it."

"Baby, stop. They'll care that we aren't axe murderers." I gave Beckett a sweet kiss. "They'll care if we have enough bedrooms." Another kiss. "They'll care if we are stable." And another one. "They'll care if our parenting classes are done."

"I keep telling myself that." Beckett sighed. "Fuck, I just want everything to be right." Boris wandered over and nudged under Beckett's hand for pets. "Hey, sweet boy." Beckett crooned to his one true love—other than me, of course.

"The house looks good, right?" In an unfortunate turn of events, Boris looked very little like his mother, Schotze, except for her silky hair. Everything else was pure Duckie.

As much as we both loved the cabin, there was no way we could fit new bedrooms into the original footprint. Beckett's cousin, Reed, recommended a fantastic architect who helped expand the cabin seamlessly.

Between Beckett's savings and my leftover inheritance from my grandparents, we were able to swing it along with modifying the outdoor space. Now, we had two more bedrooms, another bathroom, and had managed to keep Beckett's library loft.

"What time are Micah and Cal coming over?"

"Not until six or so. They had some kind of meet and greet before returning to the island."

"Fantastic news," I said before nibbling up Beckett's neck. "Get your ass in the house, baby. I think you need something to get your mind off the home study."

With that, I climbed off his lap, took his hand to pull him up, and strode toward the back door. Boris, ever faithful to Beckett, followed at his heels. That dog was never more than two feet away from him when he was home.

I was only an acceptable option if Beckett wasn't around, and even then, he just wasn't that into me. I could live with it because seeing Beckett so openly affectionate and loving made my heart beat out of my chest for him.

Over the last two years, Beckett had opened up more than I ever thought possible. While he still wasn't the most friendly man around, he occasionally socialized now. It wiped him out and he needed quiet time when it was over, but he did it.

His cousins, true to their word, chose him over their aunt and uncle. No one was sad to see them fuck off to Texas in retirement and let us enjoy our peaceful island without their constant bullshit.

Whatever child or children we ended up with would have plenty of family, including my parents, to spoil them. Their planned move to the area was much anticipated by both of us. As I predicted, Beckett and my dad were like two peas in a pod.

And now I needed to bleach my brain for thinking about debauching my husband—oh my God, he's my husband!—and my dad in the same segue. Fucking hell.

I pulled Beckett into the bedroom and shoved him on the bed before I clamored on top of him. Our mouths met in a slow kiss that was all tangled tongues and slow strokes. We had plenty of time, and there was no need to rush anything this afternoon. Beckett moaned into my mouth as he rutted his hard cock against my leg.

"Daddy, I need you." Beckett's tone was already needy, and I fucking loved it.

This stony, chiseled man was desperate for one person in this world, and it was me. The power was heady. "Daddy, I need your cock in me." His hands gripped my hips while he rubbed more insistently against me. "I want you to fuck me."

That earned him a sharp smack on his ass. "Baby, you'll get what I give you."

It sounded mean, but I knew it was exactly what he craved. Beckett needed to be taken out of his head, give up control, and simply be allowed to exist. He needed to release that tight control on everything around him. It was my joy to make it happen. Step one was to get this man naked and writhing.

I pushed myself off him and stepped back from the bed. I quickly stripped off my clothes and nodded for Beckett to do the same. He knew exactly what I wanted because he scrambled up from his position. All our clothes and shoes ended in a jumble in the corner. I saw his grimace at the mess, but we could definitely deal with that later.

Once naked, Beckett stood for his instructions. His body was damn near perfect. The scar on his forearm was barely noticeable, but I traced over it lightly with my fingers. I hated that he'd been hurt, but it was the day I told him I loved him. The memory made me smile, but the hard cock that jutted from his body made my mouth water.

I dropped to my knees and took the bulbous head into my mouth. Beckett immediately threaded his fingers through my hair. My own cock hardened at the obscene sounds he made. My baby was so damned vocal, and I loved it. Every moan, every whispered plea, every needy whimper.

I loved each one.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddddddy," Beckett moaned and shuddered as I worked my tongue around the sensitive head.

He tried not to thrust forward, but the tight grip my hands had on his hips urged him to do it. Little by little, I worked my way down the shaft until his cock was fully enveloped in my mouth. It took a long damn time before I could manage to deepthroat him, but it was worth every attempt I tried.

His cock stretched my mouth and drool dribbled down my chin. When I glanced up and saw the bliss on Beckett's face, it was worth it. After giving myself time to adjust, I started to move on his cock. My cheeks hollowed with each thrust, and I felt his precum slide down my throat. I couldn't keep it up for long, but I did get him closer to the edge of begging, and that was my very favorite spot for him.

"Daddy, I need more."

Beckett's fingers gripped my hair, but as much as I loved sucking him off, this wasn't what he needed to fully take his mind off his stress. He needed a good dicking, and I would give it to him. After a few more long pulls, I popped off his dick. His sorrowful moan was almost, but not quite, enough to make me change my mind.

I pushed Beckett onto the bed on his back so his ass was on the edge. His sweat rolled down his heated skin, and I licked a path along his chest and up his neck. The pelt of hair hid his nipples, but my roving mouth found the nubs, and I alternated biting and licking them until he was back to nonsensical moaning.

Whatever plans I had for prolonging the delicious torture went out the window. My boy needed to be fucked, and I was just as desperate for him. With my mouth still on him, I blindly reached out to the nightstand drawer to find the lube that was always stocked there. Once in hand, the snick of the cap had Beckett moaning louder, and I reluctantly broke our kiss.

"Daddy, fuck me, please. Fuck me. Fuuuuuck me."

"I will, baby. You just have to be patient."

I squirted lube on my dick and fingers. I ghosted my index finger across his pretty hole and felt the reflexive twitch of his muscles. I eased the tip of my finger into him and waited for him to adjust.

He needed us to go slow in the beginning. I slowly jacked his cock with my other hand while I waited for his body to adjust to the small intrusion. When I felt him baring down on my finger, I eased it in farther.

Beckett's head rolled on the bed while I kept my hand firmly wrapped around him. His slit leaked a steady stream of precum that was making a mess across my hand and his stomach.

I couldn't stop myself—and really didn't want to try—from taking a quick taste of the delicious salty goodness. When he thrust himself back onto my finger, I knew he was ready for more.

"Baby, hold on, okay? Daddy will take care of you."

I added a second finger and waited again for him to adjust before thrusting gently into him. I kept up the slow pace until he raised his hips and keened for more. This time, I scissored my fingers to loosen the stubborn ring of muscle. His cock had initially softened, but when my curled fingers found that magic gland inside him, his cock jumped fully back into the game.

"Daddy, fuck me. I'm ready. I can take it. Just fuck me now."

Beckett's pleading was all the permission I needed. I braced his feet on the edge of the bed and eased the tip of my cock into his tight channel.

"Bare down, sweetheart, it'll be easier."

I eased my way in and let him get used to the intrusion. Beckett breathed through the stretch, and I murmured how beautiful he was when he took my cock, how proud I was of him, and how tight and hot and perfect he was.

After a beat or three, Beckett pushed down in a signal that he was ready for me to move. As gentle as I knew how to be, I rocked my hips against his ass. Beckett had a preference for oral sex, hated topping, and needed me to go slow and gentle when he bottomed.

The vulnerability Beckett allowed me to see was humbling. I would spend the rest of our lives protecting him from anyone that would harm him.

I slowly moved my hips so my dick could pass over Beckett's prostate. My hands jacked his cock, and my own head was thrown back as I forced myself to keep the pace I knew he needed. We rocked against each other in this slow, deliciously tortured dance.

We panted in unison while we pushed forward to fall over the cliff together. His dick leaked precum over his stomach, and I scooped it up to use as lube as I continued to jack him. The closer we got to the edge, the more I struggled to maintain a slower pace.

"Daddy, fuck me harder," Beckett whispered.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart," I whispered back to him.

"I know you would never hurt me. Fuck me, Daddy."

With permission given, I surged forward and slammed my cock into his ass. I set a more punishing pace, and now Beckett's dick leaked in one continuous stream. He might struggle to take a dick, but damn, he was beautiful when he was fucked by one.

Beckett's ramblings ceased to make sense, and neither did mine. We were both reduced to grunts and groans. We hurtled through space until we both fell on the end of the world together.

Beckett's shout signaling his release sent ropes of cum shooting across his stomach, chest, and a bit of it reached his cheek. His orgasm triggered my own, and my cum painted the inside of his channel as I surged one last time into his tight hole.

I collapsed on top of him, and he lay boneless beneath me. His fingers combed through my hair while I purred like a house cat.

We'd eventually have to get dressed for company coming for dinner and a game of rummy because Micah was obsessed. But right now, in the fading sun of the afternoon, I wanted to bask in him. He was fucking everything that mattered to me in this world.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Daddy."

I hope you enjoyed reading Will and Beckett"s story. Beckett deserves all the happiness I could write for him. If you enjoyed the story, please consider writing a review so other readers can find their story too.