I weave my fingers through his hair, holding his head to me. This is so fucking intimate. His bare chest pressed to my stomach. His arms holding me close. My legs wrapped around his thighs. Relief streaked through me earlier when he called himself “Daddy” again because it means he’s still in this with me. He didn’t let me push him away.
Honestly, I still feel a bit vulnerable so soon after our...argument, for lack of a better word. Like there’s a paper-thin bandaid just barely covering the raw wound on my heart. I can only thank my lucky stars that this is happening today instead of yesterday, because I don’t know if I could have let him this close to me and sucking on my breast while I was still angry.
Twice more, Connor does this. Heat, massage, and nurse. Each time clearing the plug a little further and lapping up the bit of milk that leaks from my other breast, too. Each time only fanning the flames of simmering passion, making the fire roar just a little bit hotter.
A noise from Ana hits my ear and I instinctively lurch toward her, only to be stopped by hands on my waist. “Ah-ah-ah, kitten. She’s just fine where she is, I promise. Now, give Daddy more of this sweet milk.” His mouth returns to my breast, nursing more forcefully.
I look longingly at my baby girl, torn between being a mother and being a wife. Then I feel it, the pins and needles sensation...and the instant relief as my milk leaks from the right breast and fully lets down from the left one, flowing freely with no blockage.
Maybe a bit too freely.
Connor pulls off with a choking sound and violently coughs, breast milk decorating his mouth and chin. “Fuck, woman! Are you trying to kill me?”
A laugh leaves me, my heart feeling lighter than ever as he makes a show of recovering with exaggerated gasps. Pussy. How does he think women feel about getting their tonsils cleaned with cum? “Connor Shay! Language in front of the babies!” I kiss his forehead. “Thank you for helping me.”
When I tap his shoulder for him to let me up, his eyes narrow intently. “Oh, no, little mama. We’re not done here.” Still on his knees, he starts at my post-birth belly, licking a line up to clean all the milk that leaked from me, chuckling against me as I shiver. When he reaches my chest, he plants his hand there and slowly presses me back to the bed.
“But the babies...” I half-heartedly protest, even as I lie back.
“Will be perfectly fine,” Connor soothes, big body crawling over me. “They’re content right now. Full bellies, fresh diapers, and happy. But you and me, little mama...we have some unfinished business. We’ll make it quick,” he murmurs huskily into my ear as he maneuvers our underwear off. “But not too quick. Because I’m not an old man.”
He doesn’t give me time to laugh as he smoothly thrusts inside me, my wetness easing the way. I wrap my legs around him and pull him lower, needing to feel his comforting weight.
Suddenly, my center of gravity changes as he rolls us over. I yelp as he slaps my ass, then rubs his palm to my front as I sit on top of him. “I miss this belly having a baby in it.”
A stinging pressure in my eyes tells me I do, too. So many months, I carried two little people inside me and felt them move. And now there’s nothing. I’m empty. “Do...do you want another one?”
Connor rolls us over again and pins my hands over my head. “Woman, don’t you remember what I told you? No birth control. Ever.” A rough thrust accompanies his words. “You’re going to give me all the babies I want, aren’t you?”
Oh, God, this feels good. “All of them,” I gasp. There’s enough room in my heart and his for however many babies we get. A boy or girl with his eyes this time instead of mine.
“Of course, you are. And you’re going to bend over and take it whenever and wherever I tell you. Take it like a good girl. My good fucking girl.” He croons the words into my ear, his hot breath setting me on fire. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper. “Only for you, though.”
“That’s fucking right. Only for me. Only for your husband who fucking loves you more than anything in this world.” Every sentence is emphasized with a punishing thrust.
“Only for you,” I brokenly repeat. “Daddy.”
His entire body stills before he goes wild, lips scraping down my neck to drink from my breasts. My back arches as I lift higher into his mouth and watch the passion play over his face, the pleasure he gets from drinking from me and being called Daddy. Because he wants a family with me.
Seeing him undone like this is enough to make me come. I slip my hands free from his sweaty grasp and hold his cheeks to make him look at me. “Tell me.”
Heated brown eyes stare at me as he pulls off of my nipple with a pop, droplets of my milk clinging to the corners of his mouth. “I love you. I fucking love you, Rosanna.”
“I love you, too.” My heart skips a beat. “But that’s not what I meant. Tell me that you’re my man.”
He stops. I’ve shocked him, I know. But he recovers quickly, lowering his lips to mine and repeating the vow that means everything to me now that I know what it means.
And when we come, I hold him tightly to me because he is mine and I am his.
We are his.
IfIthoughtConnorwas irresistible the first time I met him at Wright’s Furniture Shop, I was dead wrong. He’s at least a million times hotter right now, with the blue lights of the aquarium playing over the shadows of his face. And with a baby carrier wrapped around him that holds our twins as we walk around the fish tanks? This man is fucking fine. “Look, babies,” he tells our little ones. “You see the fishies?”
And he’s all mine, I think proudly to myself. I’m not blind, though. I can see the looks of appreciation he gets as we move from display to display. Especially from this one particular woman to our right who can’t keep her eyes from him as she follows us into an empty alcove filled with tanks of crabs.
She’s pretty enough, but when she keeps looking, my vision turns green. Green with possessive jealousy. Does she not see the two babies and the freaking mother standing right beside him?
