She’s there now, about to come. Her panting has halted, and her body has gone rigid. Soon, her orgasm will shudder through her. She’s so beautiful like this—in the moment before, when she knows it’s about to take her over and there’s nothing she can do but brace herself.
I want to kiss her, but I want to hear her cry out more.
She doesn’t. Her face contorts and her neck goes taut as she throws her head back in tortured ecstasy, but she remains almost completely silent.
I’m both impressed and annoyed.
I look down to watch my cock glide in and out of her, slick now with her cum.
“You like that,” she whispers, and I dart my eyes back to her face, astonished that she’s speaking. That orgasm ripped her apart. She shouldn’t be able to think, let alone talk.
But somehow she is.
“You think it’s hot when I come all over your cock?”
I really do. And, “God, it’s even hotter when you say it.” So hot, and that’s all I need to hit my own climax. I grunt, uncontrollably grinding against her pelvis as I release into her.
When I’m completely empty, I fall on the bed beside her and take a moment to catch my breath. “Don’t look so smug.”
“I won. I have every right to look smug.” We’re still whispering, afraid to break the silence around us.
“Yeah, well, you cheated.”
“How?” As easily as she submits to me during sex, she still loves to challenge me otherwise. Even when I have a good argument.
Which is not now.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure you did.” I roll to my side and prop my head up with my hand. “I destroyed you. How did you even do that?”
She can’t help herself, she laughs. “Lots of practice.” She realizes too late, clapping her hand over her mouth.
“Oh, shit,” I exclaim almost silently.
We wait, neither of us moving or speaking or breathing. After several seconds, I’m about to call us officially safe when we hear it—a soft, familiar whimper that we both know will quickly escalate to a full-blown wail.
She looks at me expectantly.
“Seriously?” I don’t bother keeping my voice low now. “You’re the one who woke him up.”
She sticks her chin out obstinately. “But I won the bet. You said if I could be quiet that you’d get him next time.”
“But you weren’t quiet. You laughed.”
“That didn’t count. We were done. You only said I had to come quietly.” She’s so fucking adorable when she’s feisty. If we continue this battle a second longer, I’ll be ready for round two. And I don’t think Jake will let us get away with that.
“Fine. I’ll get him.” I huff as I get to my feet. As I pull on my boxer briefs, I playfully glare in her direction. “See? I knew you cheated somehow.”
Her victorious expression makes me want to drag her off the bed and pound into her from behind, show her who’s boss. I hurry out of the room before temptation overtakes me.
The nightlight is on in the nursery, but I switch on the floor lamp too as I walk in. Jake lifts up his head, and when he sees me, his crying ceases and he smiles.
“Jacob Benjamin Bruzzo, what are you doing awake?” We’ve broken him of night feedings for the most part, and I know if we want to keep him on a decent sleep schedule I should roll him to his back—the position he prefers—give him his pacifier, and leave him again.
But I’m a pushover for those big blue eyes and that toothless smile. I pick him up and rock from one foot to the other. It’s an automatic movement now. Whenever he’s in my arms, I start to sway.
“So how long do you think it will be before Mommy’s in here too?” I ask. “Because we both know it’s just a matter of time.”
Jake finds his thumb and settles against my shoulder. This child, I think as I often do, is the sunshine of my life. There was so much darkness before him, and while Gwen lifted me out of the nothingness and grounded me, Jake was the one who brought the light.
It’s hard to believe he’s already been in my world for six months. His birth was relatively easy, though Gwen likes to remind me that I’m not allowed to say that until I shove an eight-pound baby out of my body, so I only say it when she’s not around. But she can’t deny that her labor was fast, and she only had to push twice before he slid out, head first into the doctor’s waiting arms.
He’s been an easy baby too. Always happy. A dream child. We’re already trying for another one, or rather, we’re leaving it up to fate, which basically means we don’t use birth control and have sex regularly. It’s a method that I like very much.