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God, I hope he’s joking. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s not, but all I can do is smile as I gaze at my handsome husband holding our ten-month-old daughter.
I cast my eyes around the showroom and the half a dozen classic cars on display, each one restored by Laz and his team. He’s got two assistants, a young man and a woman in her fifties who knows even more about cars than Laz does. While they repair, I run the showroom and the office with an assistant of my own, and I’m studying business management part-time as well.
Life is very full, in the best possible way.
The first thing Laz did after our honeymoon was put an offer on this place. Well, the second thing. The first thing he did was to go out and buy me a big “fuck-off rock” for my ring finger. And boy is it. He wants it known from space that I’m taken.
I was so happy in our little rented place with Laz working lovingly on a handful of cars by himself. I was reluctant to leave our little nest and move into this sparkling new auto shop. What if the new place somehow spoiled things for us and sucked away all the joy? I’m so used to being miserable while living in luxury.
I should have known that nothing could spoil the magic of our relationship. Laz was happy in the rented place, and he’s happy in his own, bigger place. His love for me could never change with our geography, nor my love for him.
“Come on, let’s get this angel to bed, and then I’m having the longest shower known to man.” He yawns noisily as he takes my hand and leads me out of the showroom.
I switch off the lights and lock up behind us, and we walk the short distance back to our house.
Once Mirabella has settled for the night, Laz takes my hand and pulls me through to the bathroom.
“Come get naked with me. I want to wash your hair.”
I can tell from the gleam in his eyes that he wants more than to wash my hair. As I shimmy out of my denim dress and take off my earrings and lay them on the vanity, I watch my husband undress behind me in the mirror’s reflection. The sight of his naked body still takes my breath away like it did the first time. All long limbs, lean muscle, and broad shoulders.
He catches me staring at him in the mirror and comes up behind me to help pull off my bra and panties. A moment later, his hard-on presses into my ass.
Laz kisses my throat and breathes in my ear, “Bambi, I want another baby.”
I smile at his reflection, raising one ironic eyebrow. “Oh, do you? Thank you for letting me know this time.”
I wondered if he’d been thinking about getting me pregnant again. He’s been dropping hints about Mirabella getting older and just how beautiful I looked while I was pregnant. The thought may have crossed my mind, too. I’d love a little boy who was just like his daddy. Handsome and strong and who could protect his big sister.
Laz’s hand dives down my stomach and he strokes his fingers against my clit. “What do you think, shall we have another baby?”
“I’m still breastfeeding.” My head tips back against his shoulder as pleasure rolls through me. Just in case, I’ve been telling him to pull out when we have sex. It’s hardly foolproof, but it’s the easiest way to manage things. I reasoned that if I did get pregnant then it would be a wonderful surprise.
But are we ready to actually try for a baby and put one hundred percent into it?
“Not as much as you were breastfeeding. How about I stop pulling out? What do you think about that?”
I smile and open my eyes. “Why don’t you find out?”
He growls and nips my neck, his eyes turning feral. “You tease, Bambi. All right. I will.”
Laz goes down on his knees, pushes my legs apart, and thrusts his tongue into my pussy. He licks me all over, and I gasp and grab the edge of the vanity.
Just when I think he’s going to tip me over the edge, he stands up and thrusts into me, and then grips me by the hair to keep me in place while he fucks me. Like I want to go anywhere.
The swift, deep strokes of his cock tell me just how turned on he is by the thought of getting me pregnant.
With my free hand, I reach down between my legs and roll my fingers over my clit, losing myself in the twin sensations of his thrusts and my urgently rubbing fingers.
“I’m going to come,” I moan. “Please don’t stop, I’m going to come.”
“Well, Bambi? Am I pulling out? Or are we doing this?” His voice is roughed by desire. He’s teetering on the brink of coming and he wants to hear me say it.
“Don’t pull out. Fill me up with your cum.” I manage to say right before my head tips back with a wail and my orgasm rips through me.
“Fuck, yes,” he growls through his teeth. He strokes a handful more times and groans, and I feel his rhythm stutter. He pounds me even deeper and then slows to a halt.
But doesn’t pull out. He pats my ass. “Stay right there, Bambi. Got to make sure my boys have time to work their magic.”
