Lachlan
Dinner is quiet. It’s mostly quiet with us. It took me a while to work out that she prefers it that way.
Tatum sits across from me at the small table in our loft, the soft glow of the lights casting warmth over her face and the space we built together piece by piece.
I was proud of her today. I told her so, and it wasn’t half of what I felt. It still feels strange sometimes, saying things out loud after so many years of keeping everything locked down. But I feel it. Every second of it.
“I saw Wilder this morning,” I say. “Picked up the last of the mail he’d been holding for us.”
“How is he?”
“Same.” I turn my glass. “He’s got somebody new in my old unit. Didn’t say much about it. Just that they turned up with one bag and didn’t want to talk about why.”
Something soft moves across her face. “He’ll look after them.”
“Yeah,” I say. “He will.”
“You’re staring,” she says softly, glancing up with a small smile that tugs at something deep in my chest.
“Yeah,” I reply without looking away. “I am.”
Her cheeks warm, but she doesn’t look away either. She sets her fork down after a moment, her fingers tightening around mine, like she’s gathering her thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking about something…” she starts.
I straighten, my attention narrowing on her immediately. “Okay.”
“I want to start a family,” she says finally, her voice soft but steady, her gaze locked on mine. “I know the timing isn’t perfect, with law school starting soon and everything changing, but…I don’t want to wait.”
The words are unexpected, but knowing Tatum, I should’ve expected them. When Tatum makes up her mind, nothing can shake it. I’ve thought about kids more than I’ve let on, but I wanted it to be hers to raise.
“I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to pressure you,” I admit, my voice lower now as I lean back, studying the seriousness in her face, the hope beneath it. “You’ve worked too hard to get here. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to choose.”
Her expression softens. “I’m not choosing,” she says gently. “This is part of it. This is what I want.”
My heart swells from the reality of what she’s offering, what she’s asking for. A future. With me.
“I’ve got the shop running steady now,” I say, my mind already moving through the logistics, the responsibilities, the things that need to be in place. “I can bring in more help, cut back when I need to. We’ll make it work.”
“We always do,” she says softly.
Yeah. We do.
Silence falls for a moment. “You’re sure?” I ask. Because I need to hear it. I need to know she’s not rushing into something because of me.
Her lips curve, revealing that same soft, knowing smile that still gets to me every time. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That’s all it takes. I nod once, the decision settling into place firmly. “Then we start trying.”
She laughs, her eyes brightening. “Just like that?” she teases softly.
I push back from the table, standing before she can say anything else, my gaze locked onto hers as I move around to her side. “Yeah,” I say simply. “Just like that.”
She barely has time to react before I scoop her up, her surprised laugh spilling into the space between us as her arms instinctively wrap around my neck.
“Lachlan—” she starts, but the protest doesn’t hold, not when she’s smiling like that.
I kiss hers, swallowing whatever was coming next. It’s a heady feeling knowing I have the woman of my dreams in my arms. Her fingers grip my nape as she takes as much as I give, sending shivers of need down my spine.
Once in the bedroom, I set her down and something primal rises in me. “Take off your clothes,” I command, my voice dropping lower, rougher. “Now.”
Her eyes widen, that familiar spark of arousal flickering to life as she recognizes the shift in my tone.
She obeys, her fingers working the buttons of her blouse with trembling hands, letting it fall.
Her skirt follows, then her bra. Her panties are last until she's bare before me, glowing in the soft lamplight.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my cock already hard and straining against my zipper. “Look at you. My wife. The mother of my future children.”
She blushes, that sweet pink spreading across her chest. “Lachlan…”
“On the bed,” I order, unbuttoning my own shirt, shrugging it off, stripping out of my pants and boxer briefs. “On your back. Legs open. Show me what I’m claiming tonight.”
She crawls onto the mattress, positioning herself exactly as I asked, her thighs falling apart to show me how wet she already is. The sight nearly undoes me. I grip my shaft, stroking once, twice, watching her watch me.
“You want this?” I ask, climbing onto the bed between her legs. “You want Daddy to fill you up? Put a baby in you?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her hips lifting in invitation. “Please, Daddy. Please.”
I groan, the word going straight to the gut.
I kneel between her thighs and close my lips over her clit, licking and sucking until she’s babbling.
I straighten and position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her slick folds, sliding over her swollen clit with more patience than I feel.
“Tell me what you want, kitten,” I growl, my voice thick with need.
“Please,” she sobs, nails digging into my shoulders. “Please, Daddy, I need you inside me. I need you to fill me up. Please, put a baby in me.”
I slam into her in one hard thrust, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, her back arching, her inner muscles clamping down around me like a vice. I give her a second, then I start to move, driving into her hard enough to make the bed creak beneath us.
“That’s it,” I grit out, my hands gripping her thighs to spread her wider. “Take it. Take every inch of me like a good girl.”
“Please,” she pants, her body writhing, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Lachlan, p–please.”
“Please what?” I lean down, my mouth finding a nipple, nipping it lightly before sucking it with the same intensity of my movements.
“Please make you come? Please fill you up with cum until you’re dripping with it?”
I ask, punctuating every word with a thrust of my hips and reveling in her loud whimpers of pleasure.
“Y-yes, Daddy,” she sobs, her hips bucking and meeting mine, matching my rhythm.
I roll us over without breaking our connection, pulling her on top of me, my hands at her waist. “Ride me,” I command, my voice harsh with need. “Ride Daddy’s cock and take what you need.”
She braces her hands on my chest, her hair falling around us like a curtain as she begins to move. She rolls her hips in slow, deliberate circles that make us both groan. She's beautiful like this, my wife, taking her pleasure from me, using my body to chase her own release.
“Faster,” I demand, my hands tightening on her waist, lifting her and slamming her back down onto my cock. “Harder. I want to feel you come apart around me before I fill you up.”
She obeys, her movements becoming frantic, desperate, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I reach between us and find her clit, tight, ruthless circles that have her sobbing my name.
“That’s my girl,” I growl, watching her face as pleasure overwhelms her. “Taking my cock so well. So fucking gorgeous. You were made for this. Made for me.”
“I’m close,” she whimpers, her inner muscles fluttering around me. “Daddy, I’m so c-close.”
“Come,” I order, my thumb pressing harder against her clit, my hips driving up to meet her downward strokes. “Come for me now, kitten. Milk my cock. Take every drop.”
She shatters, her body detonating around me, her cry echoing through the room. I keep her moving through it, chasing my own release, until it takes me.
I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, holding her down as I thrust up once, twice, before letting go. I groan her name, my orgasm tearing through me in endless waves. I spill into her in thick, hot pulses that seem to go on forever.
I roll us again, pinning her beneath me, staying buried deep as I catch my breath. Her legs wrap around my waist, holding me inside her, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.
“Mine,” I whisper against her hair, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, her mouth.
“Yours,” she agrees softly, her eyes shining with love and satisfaction. “Always.”
I stay inside her as long as I can, reluctant to break the connection and end this moment. When I finally pull out, I settle beside her and gather her against me, her head resting on my chest.
“You really think we can do this?” she murmurs.
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” I say, my voice steady, certain in a way it hasn’t always been. “I know we can.”
Because we already have. We’ve already survived the hardest parts.
“Just like that?”
“We’ve done harder.”
“We’re going to be parents,” she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder.
I kiss the top of her head, my arm tightening around her. “We’re going to be everything,” I correct gently.
She laughs into my chest, quiet and already half asleep, and I feel it land somewhere under my ribs.
Her breathing slows. I hold onto her and watch the light move across the ceiling of a room in a building we own, over a shop with both their names on the sign, in a life I spent four years certain I’d already thrown away.
My kitten. My wife.
My future.
Mine.
~The End