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He opens my door and helps me in.
Always a gentleman.
He pulls out onto the road and his eyes flash over to me as if he's waiting for something.
“Drive it like you stole it.” I smile.
Without showing any emotion, he puts it into gear and hits top speed in five seconds flat. I laugh out loud as I’m thrown back into my seat.
I love the adrenaline rush it gives me.
Every time he does that, I’m reminded of the very first time I met Julian—the naughty man I love.
An hour later
Julian hisses softly. "That's it, baby," he murmurs against my neck.
I’m on my side. Julian is nestled in behind me and has my top leg lifted over his forearm. His thick body is sliding in and out of mine. His hand rests protectively over my large stomach, and his lips roam from my jaw to my mouth.
Sex with him at the moment is gentle and tender, and the expression on his face as he tries to hold himself back from being rough is simply priceless.
He looks like he's in pain, sitting somewhere between ecstasy and Hell. His hips start to pick up the pace and he holds me in position. I feel the burn of his cock and I close my eyes, letting the pleasure take over.
“Oh, yeah,” he groans against my neck. “That’s it,” he pants.
My body starts to shudder and he grips me tight. “Don’t come yet, babe,” he begs. “Please.”
When I come while pregnant my body contracts so tightly that his body just climaxes instantly. He has no control. None. For the first time ever he has absolutely no control and it turns him inside out.
Maybe that’s why he’s so obsessed with pregnancy sex.
His thrusts get deeper and faster, and I close my eyes to try and hold it off. My breasts bounce as he grips me tight. It feels too good.
I throw my head back onto his shoulder and I cry out as my body shudders, contracting hard. Julian jerks forward and comes deep inside my body.
He hisses as he slowly slides in and out to continue emptying himself, his lips making sure to find mine.
“I love you,” he breathes against my open mouth.
I run my hand through his stubble. “I love you, too.”
3 YEARS LATER
ALINA MASTERS
1984 – 2013
Wife and beloved mother.
In God's hands, we trust.
I stand at the end of the grave with Henry on my hip. I’m now six months pregnant with our second child.
Willow has her arm linked through mine while Sammy is helping his father. I watch on as Julian leans down, brushes the dust from her name and rearranges the pink lilies that Sammy has just placed in the vase. He touches her face in the small oval photo, and she stares back at all of us.
He steps away and put his hands into the pockets of his suit, staring at her.
Things have changed. We have photos of Alina in the house now and I encourage the children to speak of her openly and honestly. Willow has had some grief counselling, along with Julian. Sammy doesn’t seem to need it. He was too young to have ever felt any connection or loss. I’m his mother now, and sometimes he slips up and calls me mum when we are alone.
