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Our kiss grows more heated by the moment. Without pulling my mouth away, I undo each button of his white shirt, tearing it off his body before reaching for his pants. Our fingers fumble together to get them down, and when his boxer briefs slide out of my way, I reach for his stiffening length, eliciting a moan from his body as I wrap my hand around him.
After a couple soft strokes, he hoists me up, so I wrap my legs around him as he carries me into the steaming shower. Then my back is against the wall and he’s grinding his erection between us, hard against my clit.
We are in a frenzy of desire as our mouths and hands devour each other, and when Ronan aligns his cock with my aching core, I nearly yank him into me.
“Fuck me, please.” I groan before finding his eyes with my own and adding the one word I’ve been dying to say over the past two months. “Daddy.”
With a guttural moan, he thrusts inside me and holds himself there, so we can both savor this feeling. Our bodies are bonded as one, as he slowly withdraws and slides back in, finding a slow rhythm together.
It’s like the moment in the bathtub all over again. The years between us don't matter. Our ages mean nothing. In this small space, our connection outweighs all of that.
As he thrusts harder, slamming into me at a quicker pace, I let out a breathless moan. My body starts to tighten with pleasure, so I reach between us, finding my clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles.
“That’s my girl,” he mutters between the forceful drives of his hips. My legs squeeze tightly around him as I’m nearly blinded by the sensation of my orgasm.
“Come on Daddy’s cock, Daisy.” His voice is strained as he slides in one last time before shuddering his own climax inside me.
We’re both gasping for air as he releases my legs and eases out of me. Light-headed from the steam and exertion, we cling tightly to each other as we slowly catch our breaths.
“I love you,” I whisper into the crook of his neck.
As he strokes my head, peppering my face with kisses, he whispers against my cheek, “I love you more than anything in this world, baby girl.”
My heart swells in my chest as he brings our lips together. And as he washes every inch of my body, from my head to my feet, I feel every ounce of that love.
Deep down, I know that Ronan and I were always meant to find each other. The odds may have been stacked against us, but there was something far more powerful bringing us together. In some strange way, I think my mother would be relieved to know we found each other. It may seem unconventional, but this is what she wanted, for both of us to find the kind of love that makes life worth living.
And no matter what this cruel, poetic life brings us, I know he’ll be there to take care of me. And I’ll be there to take care of him.
RULE #45: YOU CAN’T KNOCK UP AN ALREADY PREGNANT WOMAN…BUT IT DOESN’T HURT TO TRY
Ronan’s Epilogue
The crowd tonight is the largest I’ve seen. I hope to God they’re here to see my beautiful wife playing her newest songs and not marvel at the way her very pregnant belly protrudes between her body and the keys of the piano.
Daisy has picked up a regular spot at the piano bar, and it’s no wonder why. The crowd loves her. It’s generally a mix of her originals and some classic covers, and she nails each and every one.
I watch from the bar, a single bourbon in my hand as she sings, the people at the tables joining in. Every few moments, her eyes find mine, and I give her a quick, comforting smile.
I couldn’t be more proud.
I also couldn’t be more nervous. Daisy is two days past her due date, and the doctor is using terms likedropped, dilated,andinduction. As hard as I tried to talk her out of performing tonight, she convinced me that she feels fine and that a little excitement might help nudge things along.
All I know is that she’s not leaving my sight for a moment.
When her set comes to an end, she waddles off the stage and meets with the same regular group of listeners who show up every week. After conversing with them for a while, she comes over and gulps down two large glasses of ice water. Hugged close to my side, she leans against me, swaying where she stands.
“How are you feeling, baby girl?”
“My back is a little sore from sitting on that bench, but otherwise good. No contractions.”
My hand roams the hard surface of her round stomach. My little boy kicks against my hand as I do, my heart practically flipping in my chest.
“I swear he has a foot in my rib cage.” She arches her back, trying to make more room in her body for the baby growing inside.
“Let’s get you home,” I whisper against the side of her head. After she says goodbye to the bar owner and the new friends gathered around her, I walk with her hand in hand out to the car waiting by the door.
As soon as we get home, she goes straight to the shower, shedding her clothes until she’s standing in the bathroom naked from head to toe. As I take in the sight of her in the mirror, I let out a husky growl, making her grin from ear to ear.
