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I opened my eyes and saw myself in the mirror, bent over and ass up for Dominic’s pleasure, and a flush of my own rushed over me.
The wicked fingers were in my ass, finding the spot that electrified me. He rubbed it, making me almost sob with the sensation. Half pleasure, half pain tingled through me, and I pushed back into his touch, whimpering a little.
“You’re sure the doctor would think this is okay?” he murmured, and I sighed out a yes. I actually had no idea, but I was pretty sure, and it would have taken a much bigger man than my doctor to stop me now.
His hand still glided up and down my shaft and I didn’t know which way to move—forward into his hand or back into that sinful finger. His big hand moved down to cup my balls, cradling and caressing, his hand knowing and possessive. I sobbed out a wordless cry.
“I know…I know…relax,mon chou chou,” He was so warm and solid down the length of my back, and his breath was hot against my neck. I reached back and touched his hip, trying to let him know how good it was. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out and beg for more, because I knew this was all he’d do when I was so close to term. He kissed the back of my neck again and pumped his finger into me, slowly, steadily, finding his rhythm. “That’s right, baby. Then he moaned, as if the words were being torn out of him. “Oh gods, I love you so much.”
He changed his angle, raking his finger over my prostate again, and I felt like my whole body lit up. I screamed and thrust back into him, coming into his hand, helpless to stop it. He stroked me through it, never letting go of my cock, even though I was almost too sensitive now, and I felt owned and marked by him. It was just what I wanted. When his breathing began to return to normal, he caressed my ass, then he reached for me and pulled me around into his arms. He pressed his lips down hard on mine.
“Let me take care of you now,” I protested, trying to slip to my knees.
“No, darling. This was all about you. Now come on. The show’s about to start, if you still want to watch it.”
“As long as I can snuggle on the couch with you.”
“I insist on it,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.
I laughed, feeling full of joy that he was here with me, and we went in to sit down. I enjoyed the two-hour show and at the end of it, I levered myself to my feet to go to the kitchen for a glass of milk. I took about three steps and felt a hot gush of water between my legs.
“Dominic,” I said softly, turning to look at him. “My water broke.”
“What?” he shouted and jumped to his feet, looking around like he wasn’t sure what to do first.
“Don’t panic. I’ve prepared for this. Go get my suitcase from the closet, and I’ll call Kyle.”
He dashed over to get it, while I called a sleeping Kyle and got him on the way. Hard contractions started as we were on the road to the omega hospital, and they were so much worse than I ever imagined.
I had a lot of pain in my back as well as my stomach, and it felt like two big hands were grabbing my spine and trying to wring it until it snapped. Much of what happened was a blur, but I do remember the pain. The doctor came in and reassured me that everything was fine. I was having something called “back labor,” a euphemism that probably really meant medieval torture. It was all normal, he assured me. Ha! Easy for him to say.
Dominic was a mess, hating to see me in pain and dreading each contraction almost as much as I did. But all those awful contractions didn’t make my labor progress. I just didn’t dilate like I should have, and the pain was bad.
Finally, the doctor came in to tell us that a C-section was necessary, because the baby was showing signs of distress. That was the worst moment, but Dominic held my hand tightly and he was my rock.
Soon the nurses came in to take me to surgery for the Caesarean, and Dominic got suited up to come along. I don’t remember much about the actual birth, because I was pretty knocked out from the sedation they gave me, though not totally unconscious.
I remember Dominic sitting beside my head, kissing my forehead and my cheek and holding tightly to my hand. I remember him telling me over and over that everything would be all right. And I remember the baby—pink faced and scowling at me as they held him up for me to see.
“He’s so beautiful,” I said, and Dominic bent again to kiss me, his eyes glowing red.
The rest of the morning was filled with happy images of Dominic holding the baby and Kyle and Josh and Hailey and Ashworth and all kinds of people coming by to see us and congratulate us. The baby got prettier and more precious each time I looked at his cute little face. He totally looked like his handsome daddy.
Dominic stayed in the room with us the whole time, taking turns to feed and care for the baby. That’s the kind of hospital it was, with the nurses there to help if needed, but with the baby in the room with me, except for brief periods when they took him out for procedures.
Dominic and I talked a lot. We decided on the name Jacques after his father, and I insisted on giving the baby his name for a middle name. He disagreed and wanted my name for the baby, so in the end we decided on a compromise—Jacques Dominic Jordan-Bousset. It was a lot to pin on a poor, defenseless baby, but I loved it.
I also insisted on Dominic sleeping beside me in the hospital bed rather than that uncomfortable chair thing they had in the room. We were both too exhausted to do more than cuddle before we fell asleep.
I went home after two days and nights and when I say home, I mean Dominic’s apartment. He insisted on moving back to the hotel suite where Ashworth had been staying and moved me into his apartment to give me and the baby all the space we needed. He’d already set up a beautiful nursery in his guest room and hired a nurse to care for us both. He told me I could stay as long as I liked, and if I wanted to, he’d give me the apartment, and he’d move elsewhere.
I stood it for three more days. Three days of worrying, fretting and being miserable about the possibility of losing Dominic if I kept dithering around. I wanted him. I loved him. And if he changed his mind someday, then I’d deal with that when the time came. For now, I chose happiness. I chose Dominic and our family.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, I called for Josh to drive me to Dominic’s hotel room. I had it on good authority that Dominic was home from the office, not doing too well, in fact, because he missed me and the baby, though it had only been not quite three full days since he’d seen us both. And he was, at the moment, just finishing up an early dinner.
My source was Ashworth, of course, who had been my confidant over the last three agonizing days. I had called him several times for advice and to check on Dominic. He assured me that Dominic was all right, but that he’d been quiet, had little appetite and seemed to be lost in thought and distracted. He said he was as miserable as I seemed to be, in fact.
Since I hoped that was because of me, I was secretly a little glad of it. I hadn’t called Dominic even once, even though it had been difficult. But I’d been trying to give Dominic some time and space. I’d been giving real thought to what I wanted my future to look like. The thing was, I couldn’t imagine any kind of future for myself without Dominic in it. I didn’t even want to imagine it.
