I looked back at her, still smiling. “She’s more beautiful every day, I don’t even know how that’s possible.”
It was true. There wasa strength in Amiyah now, something radiant that came from deep inside her. She had fully committed herself to this pregnancy, body and soul. She changed her diet without complaint, started attending prenatal fitness classes, and radiated a healthiness that made me proud beyond words.
She was carrying our baby, our love made flesh, and I had never been more in awe of anyone in my life.
And yes, I wanted her constantly. There was no point pretending otherwise. The pull between us had always been magnetic, but lately, it had deepened into something even more primal. I refused to keep my hands and mouth off her body. Every soft touch, every kiss, every moment of closeness felt amplified. She smelled like warmth and sweetness, like everything my body craved, so I feasted. I sucked her soul from her body at least once every day; her pussy being extra wet and gushy was an added bonus. There were nights when the only obedience I required of her was to come on my face or my pussy as we tribbed.
As I got lost in my thoughts, I found myself brushing my thumb along her hand, tracing the delicate lines of her skin, and she stirred, opening her eyes slowly.
“Hey,” she whispered sleepily, smiling when she saw me.
“Hi, baby.”
She stretched a little, adjusting the blanket. “We almost there?”
“Almost,” I said softly. “About an hour out.”
She nodded and smiled, her fingers slipping between mine. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it, lingering there for a moment.
James glanced over, smiling quietly before turning his attention back to his work. He knewme too well to interrupt. As the flight attendants dimmed the lights, I leaned back and let my head rest against the seat, my thumb still brushing over Amiyah’s skin.
I thought about everything we had been through, everything I had been through, and everything that brought us here. The therapy sessions, the healing, the laughter, the long nights planning for the baby, the soft mornings waking up tangled together. We built something beautiful, something whole, and now, heading to Curaçao, it felt like the start of a new chapter. A moment to breathe before life changed again.
I looked at Amiyah one more time and smiled to myself before looking across to James. They are my peace, my purpose, my heartbeat in human forms.
And as the plane cut through the clouds toward the island, I promised myself to make this week everything she deserved, soft, slow, and full of love.
From the moment we stepped off the plane, the air felt warm, soft, and thick with salt, as if the island itself were exhaling after a long day. Curaçao had a way of slowing everything down, pulling the tension right out of your shoulders before you even realized you had any.
Our driver greeted us with a smile, took our bags, and within minutes we were winding along a road that looked like something out of a travel magazine. The water was the kind of blue that made you stare, and the Kabana palm trees swayed as if they were waving just for us.
Kontiki Resort was everything I imagined and more. The open-air lobby smelled of coconut and jasmine, and the sound of waves crashing in the distance blended perfectly with soft Caribbean music. The staff welcomed us like family, champagne flutes in hand forme and James, and a tall glass of sparkling mango juice for Amiyah.
She looked around with wide eyes, taking it all in, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“This is insane,” she said, laughing softly. “You really didn’t have to go this far, Calla.”
I tilted my head. “You’re carrying our child, and you think I’m going to half-step your baby moon? Be serious, Princess.”
James laughed, resting a hand on my lower back. “You know there’s no point arguing with her,” he told Amiyah.
She grinned and shook her head. “I’m learning that fast.”
Our suite overlooked the ocean, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a private deck and plunge pool. Inside, everything was warm wood and linen, soft light bouncing off the white walls. A few tropical flowers sat in a vase on the table, their scent subtle but intoxicating.
Amiyah kicked off her sandals and waddled to the balcony, the sunlight catching the glow of her skin. Watching her standing there, one hand resting on her round, growing belly as James walked behind her and wrapped his muscular arms around her and rubbed it as he kissed her neck, I thought I might never stop falling in love with them.
I stepped next to them, my hand joining James’ as he lifted her belly, giving her body some relief, and I rubbed it. “How’s it feel?” I whispered against her ear as I kissed her neck.
“Like heaven,” she murmured.
Good. That was exactly what I wanted for her. When James told me he had planned a baby moon, I had spent weeks planning this evening. First, I called our OB before we left to ask what Amiyah could andcouldn’t do while we were here. I wanted her to enjoy herself thoroughly, but safely. When the doctor told me she was cleared to do anything within her comfort level, I exhaled for the first time in days.
Tonight, I had something special planned.
A private chef was coming to our villa to prepare dinner, a five-course meal inspired by the island’s heritage and flavors. I wanted it to be sensual and immersive, every bite a reminder that life could still taste this good, even in transition.
The menu was full of color and heart. Caribbean ceviche to start, roasted plantains drizzled with honey, red snapper in coconut sauce, and jerk-spiced lamb with mango chutney. Dessert was passionfruit mousse with shaved dark chocolate. I had arranged for everything to be paired with local mocktails and wines, depending on who was drinking what.
