Epilogue
Mark
Nine Months Later
I t was an amazing feeling, knowing that everything in my life was exactly as it should be. It definitely wasn’t something I was used to.
I had a wonderful wife, a beautiful home, and a full belly from a delicious dinner.
Life can’t get any better, I thought to myself while I cleaned up the kitchen. If Bee was going to deal with the baby’s stinky diaper, the least I could do was wash the dishes and put the leftovers away.
It took months for the foster placement to come through, but baby Charlotte was such a cutie. If I’d worried about feeling a connection to a child that wasn’t biologically mine, that thought disappeared the second that sweet little girl grabbed hold of my finger. She was the most beautiful thing in the world and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, even having only just met her two days before.
Bee was a natural with her. I knew she always wanted to be a mother, but seeing it firsthand was humbling. She was made for it. I was a lucky man to have her as my partner.
I remembered the crushing feeling when the surgeon told us the cost of saving Bee's life. The damage to her uterine wall. The lost ovary and tube. The endometriosis and adenomyosis that came with recovery. The scars, surgeries, adhesions…
My heart broke for Bee, losing the thing she always wanted most. I was miserable as well, of course, but mostly for Bee. She didn’t deserve to suffer the physical pain of surgery after surgery to treat each of those conditions, nor the mental anguish that came with the knowledge that each surgery would be unlikely to bring back what she wanted most: to have kids of her own.
But after six months, she was finally done with her various treatments, and was freed from any restrictions from her doctors. So we put in our official application to become foster parents, hoping to adopt.
And three months after that, little Char arrived at our home, needing nothing more than the love we had to give her. Even with all the medical complications, Bee Rosenberg still managed to become the best mom in the world, and I got to witness it all firsthand.
Despite all the odds against us, we started a family and lived a peaceful life. I couldn’t ask for more, except maybe to be buried balls deep in her within the next fifteen minutes. Charlotte went down so easily last night that hoping for a repeat performance wasn’t an unachievable goal, but I still knocked on the wooden doorway for luck as I made my way into the living room to lounge on the couch and wait for my girl.
I waited for the quiet steps on the stairs to tell me she was on her way back down. Every time she was cleared for physical activity, I made it my mission to bang my wife as often and deep as possible, hoping for that miracle for her. Char was an easy baby so far, so Bee would be back downstairs soon. Shit, I just jinxed it, didn’t I?
Before I could panic at the potential for chaos I unintentionally released on us, there was my beautiful wife.
I never told her I was still hoping; it didn’t mean I didn’t want Charlotte or any other kids we were lucky enough to foster or adopt, but I wanted Bee to experience the thing she’d been wanting for basically ever. I was happy with our little family of three and would be happy with however many other kids we were blessed with, but I was still doing what I could so that if the fates decided they wanted to grant us that miracle, I was putting in my best work as often as possible.
It also meant I got to make love to my sexy wife at every possible opportunity.
“HoneyBee,” I called out to her in a sing-song voice. “I think you deserve a rest. Wanna come lay on the couch with me for a bit?”
She snorted as she came into view. “I know what that means.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. Cuddling was a big turn on for me and I wasn’t shy about it. “Why, do you have any objections?”
“No,” she smiled, but still turned into the kitchen instead of joining me on the couch. She returned, flowing hippie skirt swirling around her calves, a moment later with a couple wineglasses and a bottle of rosé. “But I thought you’d like to celebrate this special day with me first.”
“Absolutely,” I told her, taking the bottle and opener, popping the cork for her like the gentleman I was. “What day are we celebrating, Arbor Day?”
But rather than that cute little giggle I’d begun to expect at my awful puns, she smiled that sweet, demure smile of hers and gracefully took the wine glass I offered her by the stem. “To our new family.”
“Cheers,” I said, clinking my glass to hers and taking a swallow. Hm.
It tasted a bit different, but Bee didn’t look too concerned as she took a second sip. I sat down on the couch, trying to peek at the label of the bottle out of the corner of my eye. What the hell were we drinking?
Instead of sitting beside me, Bee just sat right on my lap, straddling me. My hands automatically went to her ass, holding her against me. Henry Cavill was already coming out to play, excited at her proximity.
I gave her ass a little squeeze of appreciation. The way she rocked into me told me the feeling was mutual. I’d never get enough of this woman.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” I asked. It was rhetorical; I told her every day so she’d never doubt it.
“Maybe once or twice,” she returned, scrunching her cute little nose. How did I get so goddamn lucky?
“I’ll work on that,” I said, smothering her little laugh with a kiss.
Her tongue tasted sweet like the wine, her breath warm as it mingled together with mine as she melted into the kiss. As always, the heat radiating between us was electric. Even as she pulled back to meet my gaze, the world continued to fade around us until it was only Bee’s eyes gazing at me and Bee’s heart beating in tandem with mine.
“I love you,” I told her honestly, softly, as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She smiled, her cheeks flushing with affection and excitement as she took my hands in hers, intertwining our fingers. There was an understanding between us—one that spoke of the struggles we’d faced and the relief of finally finding solace in each other. It was these moments, when the mundane turned extraordinary, that I cherished; every ounce of hurt was worth it to bask in the glow of her love and adoration mirroring my own feelings for her.
I squeezed her ass again, earning a sexy fucking yelp of surprise from her, because that blush on her cheeks wasn’t just from love, and it was my duty as her husband to satisfy all her needs, to give her everything I’d ever promised her.
“You pinch my ass again and I’m going to go to bed and leave you all alone down here,” she threatened with a playful gleam in her eye.
“You’re a fucking liar,” I grinned back at her. “You like it.” And I gave her another squeeze for good measure.
“This is true,” she relented with a grin. “Just don’t be so rough with me. I’m a delicate flower, not a wanton harlot.”
“You’re both,” I said with a laugh, shifting so I could toss her onto her back on the couch cushions. “And you like it a little rough.”
“This is true,” she repeated, her beautiful thighs parting to make room for me, should I decide to take advantage of it.
The invitation was clear, tantalizing and irresistible in equal parts, and I let out a low growl as I pounced on her. I settled my hips against hers, right where she made room for me, and lifted her chin to capture her lips once more in a frenzied haze, the kiss deepening with every second until I felt consumed by her.
I let my hands roam deliberately across her body, feeling every dip and curve of her. A fire ignited in my gut at her soft moans, urging me onward as I helped her out of her blouse, shifted so she could sit up and wiggle out of her skirt while I shed my shirt. Our hands met at my belt as we both hurried to unleash my cock.
The second Henry Cavill hit the open air, Bee took him in her hot, wet mouth. I lost myself in the sensation of her as she wrapped her tongue around the head, her hands pushing my pants and boxers down my hips.
It would have been all too easy to lose myself in the warmth of her beautiful throat, but I did consider myself a gentleman and Bee was in fact a delicate flower, so I saved her jaw the workout and guided her back up to my face to meet her in another scorching kiss. I let my hand drift down into her panties—another cute as shit pair of pink lacey cheekies—and felt how wet my girl was for me.
“May I please fuck the living daylights out of you, Bianca Rosenberg?” I asked. Consent would always be essential, ladies and gents.
The mischievous smile that danced across her lips was all the confirmation I needed, but she still nodded. “Yes, please.”
I laid her down, much more gently this time, and hurried out of my remaining clothes. I looked down at Bee’s gorgeous, soft, smooth body, glaring at the panties still covering the most intimate part of her. The debate raged inside me: rip the fucking things off of her body, or take the extra ten seconds to pull them down her legs?
I compromised, pushing them to the side so I could bury my face in her warmth, gathering that delicious moisture on my tongue while she cried out and moved her hips in time with the strokes of my tongue. I slid my middle and ring fingers inside her, curling them just the way she liked, until she was moaning and writhing in my hands.
“Ssh,” I whispered. “Baby is asleep and if we wake her up I’ll never get around to actually fucking you with my cock. Do you want him, HoneyBee?”
“Mmhm,” she murmured, her lips clenched tight as she fought to keep quiet even as my tongue and fingers went back to work, bringing her to the precipice.
“Will my girl keep quiet if I let you come?” I asked, stroking her inner walls with my fingers.
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes closed tight and hands fisting into the couch cushions.
I increased the pressure, massaging that g-spot until she exploded, coming hard and her beautiful pussy dripping down onto my tongue. I closed my eyes and licked up every drop.
For her part, Bee tried to stay quiet, moaning loudly, but keeping the screams at bay.
When her hips slowed and body relaxed, my eyes darted over to the baby monitor. No movement, no sound. Score.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” I asked, moving up her body until Henry was notched at her entrance.
“Yes, please.”
“So polite. What a proper lady,” I soothed. Then we both groaned in unison as I found home, her orgasm making it effortless to slide inside her in one smooth glide.
I started out slow, gentle, but all too soon I needed more. I lifted one of her legs up to rest on my shoulder, giving one of her delectable thighs a kiss before thrusting in again, the new angle allowing me in deeper.
I dropped my head to my chest, the glorious feel of Bee almost too much, while she threw her head back, gasping as I bottomed out inside her. My girl liked it deep, the way my cock could fit so perfectly inside her. I could give her what she wanted.
I increased my speed, working my cock hard and deep into her, each push more powerful than the last, picking up speed until my fucking balls slapped against her ass with each thrust.
And my sexy Bee moaned underneath me, hands clutching my legs and nails digging in as she let me have my way with her.
“Is this what you like, Honey?” I asked, expecting the way her walls began to flutter around me when I talked dirty to her.
“Yes!” she whimpered, arching her back into me.
“Is this what you need?” I shifted my hand off her hip so I could reach her clit as I continued to thrust in and out.
“God, yes!”
“Are you going to come, HoneyBee?” I continued, balls slapping, thumb circling, and Henry pushing deep into her over and over.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she moaned, and I felt those walls clamp down around me, her climax washing over her. I could feel the waves as she clenched around my cock, as her hips writhed underneath me, as her nails dug deeper. Any single sensation was enough to force me over the cliff, coming hard with her, and all of them combined made it one for the history books.
I kissed her thigh one more time before releasing her leg, and God she was glorious, head thrown back, dark hair flying in every direction, and thighs clenching around me. As our breaths slowed, heart rates normalizing, I rolled so I was lying on the couch, Bee splayed on top of me, our bodies still connected.
We stayed that way for a while, Bee’s fingers tracing circles on my chest and mine stroking her hair.
“By the way,” she said after a long moment, “did I ever explain what we were celebrating?”
“Besides Arbor Day and our new little family? What else is there, your recently shitty taste in wine?” I teased, squeezing her tight to me in a hug. No way in hell did I want to lose the feel of her warmth around me. I would stay right where I was for as long as Henry Cavill would allow it.
“Arbor Day is in two more months, and I have exceptional taste in wine,” she countered, leaning back ever so slightly to grab the bottle from the coffee table. She turned it to show me the label.
Sparkling strawberry cider? I raised an eyebrow at her in question, but my heart beat hard as I processed the implications. Bee didn’t have a problem drinking anything alcoholic on a normal day.
“Now why would you put our taste buds through this atrocity?” I asked, trying to keep my smirk down. There was no use getting excited. I could just be reading into things.
“Because I hate you, obviously,” she said, smiling widely down at me. “I hate you so much I want to subject you to bad tasting drinks, weird food combinations, and nine months of crazy hormones.”
There. She said it. Implied it. Whatever.
Hold in the excitement. Make sure first.
“Don’t mess with me here. What you’re avoiding actually saying shouldn’t happen. The doctors said it would be a one-in-a-million chance that you would ever be able to get pregnant.”
“Yeah, and you’ve spent the last nine months doing your damnedest to fit in all one million chances for success.”
I snorted. It was true. “Not like you were complaining at the time.”
“I definitely wasn’t. Are you complaining? We just got little Char and now this…”
“I think Charlotte will be happy to have a baby brother or sister. And I’m so insanely excited for it.” But the worry was setting in.
“Then what’s wrong?” Bee asked, rubbing my chest affectionately. She knew me so well. She wasn’t offended, wasn’t worried, just wanted to know what was going on in my head.
“Is it safe? It hasn’t even been a year since everything happened. Your body wasn’t supposed to be able to do this, to get pregnant, and now you are. I’m worried that it won’t last or that I could lose you.”
Just because I fantasized about it and wanted it for Bee didn’t mean that the reality wouldn’t come with some real dangers.
Her hand stroked my cheek, calming me with her soft, steady presence.
“I’m okay. I found out at my doctor appointment this morning and I’ve already scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN for next week. We’re going to follow every piece of advice they give us, take it easy, and everything will be okay.”
I nodded, putting my forehead to hers. She was just absolutely radiating with confidence and happiness—and maybe a little bit of post-coital glow.
We’d both been through hell in our lives. But the bad guys were gone, we were safe, and we had a beautiful baby sleeping soundly upstairs.
Life was finally going right for us. For once, I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t feel cursed, unsure, self-deprecating.
I was satisfied. Content.
And I was going to look forward to the rest of my life with happiness.