Chapter 2
Gavin
I will never tire of waking up every day and witnessing the endless energy and optimism of my husband.
Nothing brings him down or makes him sour.
He is the literal light in my life. I can’t say I ever envisioned this life for myself.
I certainly wouldn’t have imagined a man twelve years my junior would be my reason for being, but here we are.
My Jellybean is dressed like a sexy rabbit and he’s trying to force a fuck ton of chocolate down my gullet in some attempt to show me Easter is a magical time and not just another commercialized religious holiday.
Since I’m the furthest thing from a holy man, I’ve never really participated in any kind of Easter festivities, religious or otherwise, and my husband is determined to change that.
While egg hunts and Easter bunnies aren't my thing, Pete absolutely is, and if my Jellybeans wants to celebrate Easter, then celebrate it we will.
Perhaps just not in the way he plans to.
Surging to my feet with my hands full of Pete, I walk us back to the breakfast table and deposit him beside the chocolate monstrosity he prepared for me. I had planned to distract my little rabbit with a blow job on the couch, but the squished chocolate bunny gave me a much better idea.
I don’t have a great love of chocolate, so there is no way I'm going to be able to choke that much of it down.
Perhaps a little indulgence will satisfy my man.
Looking at Pete's inquisitive expression, I drop a kiss on his cute button nose before placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back to lay across the breakfast bar.
How the fuck I missed these lace panties I have no idea.
I think I was too busy trying to figure out a way to distract him in order to avoid eating a sugar induced coma on a plate.
“Fuck baby, these are very pretty.” I tell him as my fingers trace over the sides of the material.
There is a slight sparkle that perfectly matches Pete in every way.
It would be an absolute shame to ruin something so delicate, guess I’ll have to buy him another pair. Maybe without the tail this time.
“Are you planning to have me for Easter breakfast, grumpy bear?” He asks, pulling his plump bottom lip into his mouth, feigning innocence neither of us believe he has.
“Oh, no. I would never let this special breakfast you made for me go to waste.” I tell him leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his lips, then nip, my tongue running over his lower lip to soothe it after that bite.
“Why don’t you relax and let me enjoy what you prepared for me,” I tell him, gravel bleeding into my tone.
Leaning to the side, I reach for the can of whipped cream he left on the counter and the plate with a mountain of food on it. Resting the plate on his flat stomach I smirk when he gasps from the bite of cold.
“Am I the table now?” He asks laughing, but not moving while I shake up the can. Aiming the nozzle at the plate, I swirl more cream on top of what had previously melted. Fortunately, I manage to accidentally spray some on Pete’s chest, causing him to inhale sharply.
“Oops, let me get that for you Jellybean,” I whisper, shifting the plate to the side and leaning over between Pete’s spread legs to lick a long strip up his torso, purposely pushing the whipped cream up to cover his perfectly pebbled nipples.
I can feel his skin turning to goosebumps under my fingertips as I tease them along his side with light touches.
“Wow, what a mess,” I comment, pushing my body further up and over my husband’s now rapidly breathing chest.
“You stay nice and still for me baby. I’ll get this mess cleaned up,” I assure him before latching my mouth around his nipples and sucking hard enough for his back to bow off the counter and his hands to find their way into my long hair.
“I am such a messy eater. How do you stick with me?” I ask playfully as I squirt more cream onto his other nipple and give it the same treatment.
The sounds my husband makes when I touch and kiss his body are the sweetest sounds.
I could happily tease him all day long, just to hear him cry and beg for more.
Every inch of Pete is so responsive to my touch and he’s easily overwhelmed. It’s a beautiful sight.
“Oh, fuck, grumpy bear. I love your mouth on me.” He mewls.
“Is that so?” I ask around a mouthful of cream as I tongue my way down his lithe body.
Not skipping an inch on his smooth chest and abdomen, my fingertips toying with the band of his lace panties, slipping under then pulling back, making his breath catch every time he thinks I'm going to pull them off.
“I had no idea you could make canned whipped cream taste so good. I wonder what else you can make taste better?” I ask, hiding my smirk in his crotch as I nuzzle his cock through his panties.
His thighs are already starting to tremble as they widen to accommodate my size between them.
Feet hooked on my back, trapping me in so I can’t explore the kitchen for treats, instead I stick two thick fingers into the chocolate sauce drizzled generously over my pancakes and smear it along the skin right above the band of his panties.
I don’t wait for his reaction before leaning down and lapping it up like a starved man.
Hmm, chocolate first thing in the morning really isn’t so bad.