I bite his bottom lip gently, then work my hand faster. He groans, his hand moving to my breast, massaging it roughly. I gasp, my thighs pressing together involuntarily. His hips start to move in sync with my strokes. He’s close. I feel it in the way his breath hitches, the way he grips my hair tighter, yanking it back as he groans.
“Get the cup,” he growls.
I bring it to the tip of his cock as he explodes. His entire body shudders as thick, hot streams spill into the container. A little hits my hand, but the rest lands exactly where it’s meant to—our first step toward creating a life.He sags against me, breathing hard, his forehead resting on my shoulder.
“Fuck,” he pants. “That was intense.”
I quickly screw the lid back on and set the container safely on the counter. Then I pull a tissue from my bra, wipe off my hand, and glance at Colt with a crooked smile.
“Did I spill?”
“Just a bit,” I tease, holding up the tissue. “But most of it made it into the prize bowl.”
He looks at the cup, puffing up proudly. “Oh yeah. I’m the man.”
“You’re an idiot.” I laugh, and he pulls me into a fierce embrace.
“Guess what?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my temple.
“What?”
“We just made our baby.”
My heart cracks open. I bite my lip, trying to hold it together as Colt squeezes me tighter. I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I want to say something, anything, but words fail me.
“I love you so much, wife,” Colt says, leaning back just enough to meet my eyes. “And I can’t wait for the day we get to hold our little family in our arms.” He kisses me long and lingering. I melt into him, clutching the back of his shirt as tears slip silently down my cheeks.
We just made our baby—together.
Maybe not in the traditional way, but with every ounce of love and hope in our hearts. This part, this shared moment of creating something with intention and devotion, is just as meaningful.
Colt lifts his hand to my chin, tilting my face so our eyes meet.
“You okay?” he asks gently, like I’m something fragile he wants to protect.
And for once, I don’t feel fragile at all.
Just full…
Of love.
Of hope.
Of him.
“We made our baby,” I say softly, still riding the emotional wave, and Colt smiles, nodding like he’s the proudest man alive.
“Thank you,” I whisper through my tears.
His brow furrows. “What for?”
“For being so understanding about all of this.” My voice wavers, but I push through it. “I’m sorry I can’t give you a baby the normal way.”
“Dee, stop—”
“No, let me finish.” I take a breath, anchoring myself in his gaze. “I’m sorry I can’t carry our baby. I know missing the pregnancy, the ultrasounds, the kicks, all the little milestones, is going to suck. And I hate that I can’t give you that. But I just, well… I’m so grateful you’ve stood by me through everything. You’ve been my rock. I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
He gently strokes my cheek, his touch tender. “It’s not about being willing to go through this with you. I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it with you because I want to. Because I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. I don’t care how we have a baby, Dee, just that it’s ours. With you by my side, I’m already the happiest man in the world.”
