Page 116 of Make it a Double

I glanced at the monitor, breathing a sigh of relief at Oliver’s sleeping form. Finding time for sex wasn’t necessarily difficult these days, but it sure as hell wasn’t as easy as it was before. We had to make the most of every moment alone, losing ourselves to quickies in the laundry room or late-night shower dates.

“Thankfully, I’m making chocolate chip pancakes to curb your craving, complete with maple syrup and whipped cream if you want to get a little crazy.” I’d only made two before getting interrupted. Judging by the greedy way his hands played with the elastic band of my underwear, they might be the only ones.

Beckett’s chuckle vibrated through his chest as he spun me to face him. My hands came up around his neck on instinct, playing with the curls at the base of his neck as he scooped me up, placed me on the counter, and settled between my thighs.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I whispered, closing the space between us. Fresh mint landed on my tongue as he claimed my mouth.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmured between kisses. He trailed his lips down my neck, nipping gently before pulling back. “Or it will be after I eat.”

I pushed at his chest to no avail. The man was as immoveable as he was trouble. “You better let me get back to it then before you starve.”

With a devilish grin, he slowly dropped to his knees in front of me, face perfectly level with my pussy. I wasn’t sure if he engineered the counters to be at that height, but I wouldn’t have put it past him. “Just need you to lie back and spread those legs, sugar. I’ll take care of my breakfast.”

Who was I to argue with the birthday boy? It was his day, after all. If he wanted to spend his morning on his knees, I wasn’t going to stop him. “Our son will be up soon,” I said, leaning back on my elbows. “Better make it quick.”

Beckett leaned in, never breaking eye contact as he kissed his way up to the soaked fabric between my thighs. “We both know how fast I can make you come. I’m not worried.”

He pulled my panties to the side, and then his mouth was there, pressing a sloppy kiss to my center. My hand flew to his head, running my fingers through his curls as he ran the pad of his tongue along my clit.

“Shit,” I gasped, biting down on my lip to tamp down my cries, but it felt too good. I missed being able to be as vocal as I wanted, to moan out his name as he knelt between my thighs and show him just how good it felt to have him there.

“Mm, so sweet,” he purred, bringing up a finger to toy with my entrance. “Just what I wanted.”

“Beckett, please…” I rolled my hips, trying like hell to get his touch where I wanted—no, needed—it most. There was something inexplicably intoxicating about being splayed out on my kitchen counter with my t-shirt rucked up over my stomach and panties pulled to the side, like he was in such a rush to taste me that he couldn’t be bothered to take me to the couch or undress me completely.

Slowly, he slid two fingers inside, curling them and softly stroking the spot that had me seeing stars. His brown eyes were nearly black, pupils dilating as he carefully watched my lips part on a gasp. For Beckett, part of what got him off was the simple act of pleasuring me, of watching me come. I’d lost track of how many orgasms he’d given me with zero expectation for them to be returned. He was in this for the love of the game, rather than winning it for himself.

“That’s my pretty girl. Look at you,” he breathed, pressing his thumb against my clit and circling. “You’re already close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”

It was almost embarrassing how fast he had me on the brink of orgasm, but my body knew his touch better than my own. The moment he dropped to his knees, it was done. Game over.

“Remember the first time I took you here? Belly swollen and pussy so fucking ripe.” I nodded, mewling at the memory of him fucking me right here. At how obsessed he was with the idea of keeping me barefoot and pregnant. We’d been painfully careful every time we had sex, making sure to use protection and birth control to eliminate any possible scares. After all, accidents could and would happen.

The idea of having another baby used to scare me, but now that we’d almost made it through Oliver’s first year, things were different. I wrangled with the notion of tossing my pills to the side and throwing away every condom in this house, especially when Beckett looked at me like he was now.

Pressure built low in my stomach as he picked up the pace, sucking on my clit as his fingers worked in and out of my heat. The sound of my arousal and repressed cries filled the space. I let my head fall, back bowing off the counter as I quietly urged him for more. My legs tightened over his shoulders, trapping him in place.

Not that he seemed to mind being suffocated by my pussy giving the low grunts reverberating against my clit. His ministrations grew as desperate as his muffled praise. Each one taking me closer to the edge.

Grind that pussy against my mouth.

Good girl.

You’re so beautiful.

Fuck, just like that.

I did as he asked, hands tightening in his hair to the point I wondered if I was hurting him. If I was, he didn’t say a word. “Oh god, I’m so close,” I panted, rolling my head so that I could watch him the way he watched me.

That was when everything came to a screeching halt as Oliver let out a piercing cry that could be heard through the walls. Beckett pulled back, quickly untangling himself and rising to his feet. He grabbed the monitor as I not-so-quietly cursed our bad luck.

“I’ll take care of our boy,” he said, leaning in to kiss me. His lips glistened with my arousal, and I tasted myself on his tongue. Selfishly, I wished for five more minutes alone in the bubble we’d found ourselves in. Our house would be full of people in a number of hours, and our moments alone were fleeting.

Beckett was gone before I could hop off the counter on shaky legs and right myself. Oliver had his dad wrapped tightly around his finger. For as much as he liked to tease me about being a helicopter parent, I didn’t have a thing on him.

I sighed and reached beneath the sink for the cleaner, readjusting the monitor to watch him pull our son from his bassinet as I sanitized the counter and reheated the griddle.

“Okay, this is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Liv said, stepping up beside me on the back porch. “You really went all out.”