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Love? Do I love him?
I do. He cares so deeply. He works so hard to make me happy. He loves the people close to him so hard. Kids adore him.
He makes everyone around him feel important.
I’m never going to find anyone better to be the father to this baby.
He’s not perfect, but he’s perfect for me.
Buried deep to the root, I can feel him throb.
“I’m so close, petal.”
I push back against his body, and his ministrations to my clit build me to a fast, hard release.
Nate hisses at the spasms of my muscles bearing down on him. He grazes the skin of my back with his teeth.
“That. I love that. More…more.”
The combined sensations of his teeth against my skin and his cock angled just right cause yet another orgasm to thunder through me, this one from deep within, and shattering.
Gibberish spills from my mouth, and happy tears leak from my eyes and nose. I’ve never, ever come so hard. I can barely remain on my knees.
Nate curses, letting go of the last of his considerable restraint.
I am filled with his warm seed, and my heart aches.
“I wish it was yours.”
And now I’m crying from happiness and sadness combined.
Nate’s body goes still for a moment as together we wring out the last of his cum.
Breathless and soaked with sweat, my man pulls out and tumbles me to my side. He tucks me into his chest.
“Baby. What did you say? Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head no, nuzzling and kissing his chest, slick with our shared sweat.
After a deep, shuddering breath, I admit my truth again. “I wish it was yours.”
He strokes my sweat-matted hair away from my face. “The baby?”
I nod and sniffle pathetically.
“Oh. Meredith. Don’t you cry about that. Come here.”
He caresses my body back and says it over and over. “Don’t cry about that. Please don’t be upset about that.”
I finally gather my words and latch onto him with one leg thrown over his midsection. “I love you, Nate.”
A pause, and then, “You do?”
“I do. The heartbroken person I was a month ago never thought I would trust a man again. Especially not love a man after only being with him a few days. But I love you. I don’t know if I want to get married today, but I want you in my life. I want you in my baby’s life. And I’m irrationally sorry the baby’s not yours.”
I’m so tired, so limp, so thoroughly wrung out that I don’t fight it when he carries me to the shower.
Honestly, I love being carried. But no one ever has, until now. I am drinking in every inch of this man.
