18monthslater…
Everyone tells you pregnancy is this beautiful thing; it’s not. My back aches. My stomach is so damn big I can’t operate anymore. Gray’s pants barely slide over my ass, and our grocery bill has doubled. My feet look like sausages, and I had to resort to my husband shaving my legs.
Not. Beautiful. At. All.
But I’m still glowing, knowing how happy Gray is. He has bought everything under the sun, preparing for this baby. The weekend we took the test, he transformed the bedroom next to ours into a gender neutral nursery. He built cute shelving and hooks so we could store and display everything.
Oh, and did I mention I’m horny all the damn time?
It’s wildly inconvenient.
“Mm, River, stop moving,” Gray groans behind me.
I also can’t do virtually any of the chores anymore, so I mostly talk to our growing ranch of animals and pet the dogs. Only to immediately need a nap after. For once, Gray climbed into bed behind me. It’s one of the few days he doesn’t have to be at Boulder.
“I have to pee again.” Rolling out of bed, I waddle to the bathroom, my groans only making Gray laugh at my expense.
Shuffling back, my hands cup beneath my heavy belly as if the little leverage I have actually makes it feel lighter. I’d rather carry the calves again than a repeat of this.
“Scoot,” I whine. “I’m not walking to the other side of the bed.”
“Nope, you woke me up. I should get a treat,” he grumbles.
“And what do you want?”
“You know what I want, baby. Put that pretty pussy right on daddy’s face.”
“Eww, Gray. Stop that.” He’s taken to calling himself Daddy. A term I refuse to call him when our child will.
“Baby, sit on my face. I’m asking nicely.”
“I can’t if your head is against the headboard. My stomach will hit it.”
He groans again, lying across the middle of the bed, his knees bending over the edge.
“Well, come on. I know you’re wet.”
“Your mouth is disgusting,” I tease.
“Yet, you love it.”
Struggling to straddle his hips, he bucks up into me. The only barrier between his rigid length and my bare skin are those damn briefs. Refusing to get up, I lower the band just enough to free him.
Pre-cum already beads at the swollen head, just asking to be sucked. Too bad there’s no way I can bend over. My thumb runs over the tip, smearing it before I suck the pad clean.
Gray’s gaze darkens. “Fuck, River. I’m going to come just from watching you suck on that pretty finger.”
“I’ll tell you what… If you let me ride my way first, then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”
Gray’s stare darkens, those whiskey irises raking down my now massive body. His t-shirt stretches over my enlarged breasts and swollen belly before his hands cup my stomach. “Close your ears, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t want you to hear what he’s doing to Mommy.”
Then he lifts me, and I line him up at my entrance before sinking down his solid length.
The best part about pregnancy is the heightened sensations. I feel everything a million times stronger. The throb of his dick inside me, the way we seem to meld together. Every thrust accentuated as if topped with musical high notes, driving me to the hilltop of ecstasy faster than should be possible.
My hips move, rocking back and forth before they circle. His hands never leave my belly, as if that’s the only thing to ground him and remind him we’re here. That this is real. That I caved—or more accurately, missed a few days of birth control—and ended up pregnant.
I’d expected to be distraught. My practice was thriving. He was so busy with both ranches, and life was just moving a million miles a minute, but I’d never been happier when I saw those two pink lines and “pregnant” displayed on all the home tests I took.
