He grips onto my ass.
“Gonna… have… to get this out of… our system,” he says between my kisses, “while we don’t have a little one running around taking up all our time.”
It reminds me of this journey we're on together. It’s a journey we agreed we were ready for just months after we married each other. That was three years ago when we picked out the matching black titanium bands we now wear and took vows that I haven’t regretted for a moment. When the conversation about a kid came up, we both agreed. I think Scott may have wanted this even more than I did. And now we're days away from the due date when the woman who we were introduced to through the surrogacy program will have our little baby girl.
“I'm happy to see you're so excited about little Esmerelda-Sue,” I tease.
One night when we were first deciding on names, we each joked that we would pick strange names for her.
“Esmerelda-Sue, that's ridiculous,” he says. “I think you meant our little Donatella-Marie.”
“Over my dead body.”
I kiss him again.
He claws at my shirt, as annoyed with my clothes as I am with his. We can’t even make it all the way to the bedroom before we’re pulling them all off, scurrying to get free, our dicks hard as ever.
“Get that fucking dick in my mouth,” I say, dropping to my knees at the doorway to our bedroom. I take his cock in my mouth, licking, sucking, and enjoying that taste that I can never get enough of.
Fucking in this house always feels so good—this beautiful house we purchased together after we got married. It was another fixer-upper, but this time, we eagerly signed on to the challenge, knowing how well we work together and how much fun we had working on Kate's house.
Through all these projects, everything we’ve shared—every conversation, every kiss, every fight—has only brought us closer.
When we finally make it into the bed naked, him beneath me as I rub my cock against his thigh, he grips onto my neck as he slides his tongue past my lips. I eagerly accept it.
I would have thought that after five years it wouldn’t have felt this powerful, this intense, but each day I spend with Scott only makes me crave him more. I can’t ever get enough of him.
I never could have imagined being with one man could have felt this good or would've meant so much.
Everything I’ve shared with Scott means more in the world to me than any of the meaningless hook-ups I had before him—what I realize now was an empty life that I lived until he changed my world.
He grips my right bicep and pushes, guiding me onto my back. He straddles me.
“Ooh, aggressive Scott has come out to play.”
There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You have no idea.”
He leans over to the nightstand, opens the drawer, and retrieves a set of handcuffs. It’s a toy we picked up several years ago when we were at an adult toy store at a leather bar in Atlanta.
“Oh, really?” I tease. “You think I'm just gonna let you dominate me?”
“Yeah, you will, you fucking bottom.”
Scott slides off me and pushes me onto my stomach.
I don't resist him because I want this as much as he does.
He hooks one of the cuffs to my right wrist and wraps it around one of the vertical slats in the headboard before cuffing the other to my left wrist.
“Be gentle,” I say. “It's my first time.”
“Oh, it's been a long time since then. I was there, remember?”
“Do I ever.”
He reaches back for the nightstand, and I know what he's going for: lube.
“I don't think I'm gonna need any,” I tell him.
