The man is good. I will give him that.
Within seconds he’s out from under my skirts, his face flushed, his lips damp. He’s smiling at me, looking mighty pleased with himself, and I can’t help but return the grin.
“My turn,” he declares happily, and I laugh as he stands so he’s looming over me. He takes me into his arms and kisses me senseless, the taste of me on his lips and tongue.
I don’t care. I eagerly accept his kiss, my knees shaky as his tongue plunders my mouth and when he breaks the kiss first, I follow him, my mouth still seeking his.
“Feel this,” he tells me as he takes my hand and places it over the very firm erection straining against his black trousers. I stroke him slowly, from base to tip, can feel almost every blessed inch and nuance of his flesh, and I smile up at him when I see the blissed-out expression already crossing his face.
“I think my husband wants me,” I murmur as I stroke him again. A little quicker this time.
“You’re damn right he does.”
“Think I can get on my knees in this getup?” I kick out my foot, making my skirt flare, and Gage chuckles.
“Are you serious?”
Oh, that’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one. That’s one thing Gage and I like to do—constantly challenge each other. “Watch me,” I say as I gather my skirt in one hand and get down on my knees in front of my now very shocked husband.
Without hesitation I reach for him and unzip his fly, impressed by his thick c**k straining against the damp cotton of his underwear.
“Five minutes, baby?” he asks, his fingers sliding into my hair and pulling me closer to his erection. “Think you can do it?”
“I know I can,” I murmur just before I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock, his low hum of pleasure sending a shot of arousal through me. Just like that I’m turned on again.
And just like that I make my husband come in less than five minutes with only my mouth. On our wedding day, down the hall from where our reception still rages on.
Yeah. Life can’t get much better than this, can it?
Ivy
“BABY. BABY, BABY, baby, baby.”
I let my head flop against the pillow, my chest aching with the ragged breaths I’ve been struggling to take. This pushing a baby out of my vagina business is f**king hard. Why didn’t my mom ever tell me this?
Probably because she knew I’d refuse to do it if I understood the truth.
“Are you talking to me or your future son or daughter?” I ask Archer when I finally find my breath once again. My mouth is dry. My skin is soaked with sweat, and I feel like I’m going to collapse which is sort of funny considering I’m lying down. Well, half lying down, since I bend forward every few minutes to try and push the baby out.
“You. I’m talking to you, babe. Trying to encourage you.” Archer takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. God, I love this man. I really hope with the next few pushes I can produce that baby he’s so eagerly awaiting. “You’ve got this, babe. You’ve been working so hard.”
“I know,” I whisper, closing my eyes when I hear the doctor start talking. He keeps saying all the right things, but those things are irritating the crap out of me right now. The only one I want to focus on is my husband. That’s it.
No one else.
“One more push, Ivy, and you could be holding your baby in your arms within minutes,” the doctor says, making me want to punch him.
He’s a guy. He has no comprehension just how damn hard this entire endeavor is.
“Ivy.” Archer squeezes my hand again and my eyes pop open to find him watching me, an encouraging expression on his handsome, albeit tired face. “Let’s do this, baby. One more push. You’re so damn close. I can see our baby’s head. So much dark hair and a little scrunched up face.” He was just down there with the doctor, checking me out in all my naked, pushing a baby out of my vagina glory and at any other moment, I might’ve been slightly freaked out.
But not now. I just flat out don’t care. I want the baby out. I’m done. I’m tired and worn out and burned out and done, done, done.
“One more giant push, and we’re a family of three,” Archer continues. “Isn’t that what you want? Your mom and dad are waiting in the lobby, and they can’t wait to meet their grandchild. Gage texted me and said he and Marina are going to stop by before they head to the hotel. Let’s go, babe. You ready?”
Archer knows exactly what to say to pump me up. That my parents are waiting, that Gage and Marina are going to stop by in the hopes that they see the baby, spurs me on. “Yes.” I struggle to sit up and he helps me. I’m bent forward, my knees pointed toward the sky, my legs spread wide for God and everyone to see, and I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and push with all my might.
This is it. I gotta make this happen. I’m tired, and my baby needs to be in my arms.
Within seconds I feel the baby spill out of me. That’s what it feels like at least. A baby just slipped right out of my body and ended up in the doctor’s hands.
“It’s a boy,” he declares just as a piercing cry fills the room.
“I knew it,” I mumble as I watch Archer look at his son for the first time.
“Cut the cord,” the doctor encourages, and Archer does, looking like he’s in a daze as the doctor hands me my baby. I’m crying, cuddling the baby close to my bare skin. I bend over him and sniff his damp head, feel his little face root against my chest like he’s looking for a nipple already.