Chapter 50
ANDERSON
Why doesn’t anyone warn you that the woman you love becomes overwhelmingly irresistible when she’s pregnant?
I didn’t think I could love Ava more until seeing her just weeks away from her due date with our daughter.
And my caveman brain has me wanting to have my cock buried inside her every waking minute.
The stream of the shower falls over my shoulders, dripping down my bare chest and stomach. It hits the top of my hand where I hold it just above Ava’s forehead to keep water from getting in her eyes, while she looks up at me, her lips wrapped around my dick.
“You look so good,” I grit through my teeth, my wet hair falling over my forehead as I watch her.
I use my other hand to tangle my fingers in her hair, lightly gripping the strands, eliciting a moan from her lips, causing a vibration around my cock that makes me see stars.
I pump into her mouth, feeling her fingernails dig into my thighs as she takes me down her throat.
My vision clouds as she swirls her tongue on the sensitive skin of the underside of my shaft before taking me even deeper.
“Such a good little wife,” I praise. “Taking all of my cock, letting me fuck your mouth.” The dirty words have her whimpering around me.
It’s only been a few minutes, and I’m already seconds away from falling apart—but there’s only one place I plan on coming this morning.
Gently pulling out of her mouth, my wife whines, causing my lips—and my dick—to twitch.
“Let me help you up,” I say, grabbing her hand and helping her stand. At thirty-eight weeks pregnant, it’s technically safe for her to be on her knees, and it was hard to tell her to stop when she was swirling her tongue around the head of my dick.
But she’s had her fun.
Now, I want mine.
Once she’s standing, I crash my lips into hers, gently backing her up until the back of her knees hit the small seat in the corner of the shower. I ease her down until she’s sitting, just out of the direct stream of the water, the steam keeping us warm.
I lean down, pressing kisses to her neck as I whisper against her skin, “What do you want, baby? You know I’ll give you anything.”
“Anderson,” she breathes. “Please.” She grabs my hand, urging me down.
I lower to the shower floor, settling just below her. “You want me on my knees, love? You know how much I love being a good boy for you.”
“Anderson,” she whines, saying my name again, but it comes out like a plea—and I pride myself on the way I have her so turned on, my name the only word she can say.
“Open your legs for me,” I say, helping her spread her thighs, settling one over my shoulder, and holding the other open with my hand.
Fuck, she’s the most beautiful thing in this entire world.
Like a prize to be won—one I’ll be spending the rest of my life showing I’m worthy of.
I lean in, instantly circling her clit with my tongue. I need her to come on my face the same way I need air to breathe. And she needs to do it now, so I can fuck her perfect pussy until we’re both complete and utter messes.
“Fuck,” she breathes, her head leaning back against the shower tile, her hooded eyes watching me. And I bask in her attention, making her watch me take everything I have and giving it to her.
Licking, sucking, and nipping at her sensitive flesh, I groan at the taste of her on my tongue.
I could come from just the taste of her.
My hand goes to my cock for just a moment of relief before I push two fingers inside her, her hips rocking against my hand, meeting me thrust for thrust. I suck her clit into my mouth as I curl my fingers, hitting the spot that has her screaming out and grabbing me by the hair.
She rides my face, and I don’t even care that I can barely breathe. Dying between her thighs is the way I want to go.
Her grip on my hair tightens at the same time I feel her tighten around my fingers. My tongue moves in circles over her clit just before she’s falling apart in my hands with my name on her lips.
I help her ride out her orgasm, lapping her up like a starving man before I stand, pulling her up to her feet, and steadying her in my arms before turning her around.
“Bend over for me, love,” I tell her, lightly guiding her down until her elbows are pressed against the shower walls and helping her lift her leg to the shower seat.
The angle is perfect for her swollen belly, and I have a tight grip on her waist.
And there’s no way I’m lasting long.
I slide home in one thrust, both of us moaning at the sensation of me filling her to the brim.
“Yes, please,” she gasps. “Fuck me.”
God, I love it when she begs. When our roles are reversed, and she lets me feel like I’m the one in control—even when we both know she has me wrapped around her finger, ready and waiting to give her whatever she wants from me.
Pumping my hips, I drive into her, hitting that spot deep inside that has her coming again, her inner walls tightening and sending me over the edge.
Right where I want to be.
Always.