I slide my left hand into her hair to cradle the back of her skull, and I thrust into her over and over until I’m covered in a thin shroud of sweat. Her legs come up to hug my hips, and the different angle brings me into her even deeper. My wife’s pussy is pure heaven.
I thrust one last time and drive my cock as deep as her body will allow. I lower my body to hers and kiss her mouth hard. “I fucking love you so much, Westlyn Hendry.”
“I love you too.”
I sink on top of her, supporting my weight with my arms on each side of her head. I stay that way, pressing sweet kisses against her lips, until my cock softens and slides out.
Westlyn and I coming together never fails to make me feel like we’re fusing as one. Melding into one another. Losing ourselves in each other. Our bodies fit together perfectly as though each of us is one half of the other, and we can only be whole when together.
She is my other half. My better half. And that is why I will never let her go.
I was her kidnapper. I may have taken her as my captive, but she’s the one who captured my heart.
I’m on one side of the bed and Westlyn is on the opposite. Together we pull up the covers, and our two wee ones tuck the linens beneath their arms.
“Da, will you read with me?” Lachlan, our oldest, asks.
Our son loves books and stories. So thirsty for knowledge. Such a bright lad thanks to Westlyn’s teaching and mothering. At five, he’s already able to read on the level of an eight-year-old.
“No, I want to hear our story again. The one with princes and princesses and how we came to be.” Our daughter, Bristol, never tires of hearing our family’s story.
“What do you say, Lach?” I give him a wink, our secret sign that we’ll pick up with last night’s story after his sister is asleep.
He tries to wink back, but it comes off more like a squint. “Okay. I guess we can hear our story… again.”
“Once upon a time there was a prince from a faraway kingdom who inherited the crown of a new kingdom.”
“And the prince needed a princess.” Barely four and my wee lass is already a romantic.
“Yes, baby. The prince needed a princess, but no ordinary princess. She had to be chosen from the royal family of his new kingdom’s enemy.”
“And the prince’s enemy wouldn’t give him his princess, so he had to ride in on his horse and kidnap her,” Bristol says.
“That’s right. He had three princesses to choose from and which one did he steal?”
“The bonniest one.”
I look at Westlyn across the bed, her fingers laced and her hands resting on top of her swollen belly. “Aye, she was the bonniest one indeed. And still is.”
“But the princess didn’t like the prince because he was mean to her.” Bristol punches my leg. “Bad Da for being mean to Mummy.” She always scolds me when we get to this part of the story.
“The prince was mean to the princess, but he became sorry and full of regret for being cruel to her.”
Bristol looks up at Westlyn. “Because the prince fell in love with Mummy.”
I pet the top of my daughter’s head when I see her eyes growing heavy. It always helps her fall asleep. “The prince did fall in love with the princess, and their marriage brought peace between the two kingdoms.”
“And their princes and princesses were half of one kingdom and half of the other. Their children would forever bind the two lands, so they would never be enemies again.” Westlyn’s voice is soft and soothing.
Bristol yawns. “And they lived happily ever after.”
I don’t know why Bristol asks to hear this story. She’s the one who ends up telling most of it.
My daughter closes her eyes, and Lachlan places his finger over his lips to shush me.
Westlyn leans down to kiss Lachlan. “I’m going to lie down while Da reads with you tonight.”
She usually stays while he reads.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. Just aching in my back.”
“Sure it’s just a backache?”
She nods. “I’m fine. Stay and read with him.”
Lachlan usually reads to us for thirty minutes every night, but I cut our time short tonight. I’m worried about Westlyn. With her last pregnancy, she complained of a backache, her water broke, and she delivered… all within three hours. We barely made it to Royal Infirmary before she got the urge to push Bristol out.
“Doll?”
“Just a minute, Kier,” she calls out from the bathroom.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice is calm, which eases my worry.
The door opens and Westlyn comes into the bedroom wearing one of her short, sexy gowns. “Pregnancy hormones doing crazy things again?”
She nods and walks toward the bed. “Very crazy.”
She sits on the side of the bed and moves to the middle. “You know what I need, Mr. Hendry.”
I start taking off my clothes, beginning with my tie. “I do know, Mrs. Hendry. Very well.”
Westlyn is approaching her due date. Positioning has been tricky the last few weeks. “Tell me how you want it.”
She rolls on to her side. “From behind.”
“Not a problem, wife.” I love rear entry.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
I lie on the bed and move behind her, kissing the back of her neck and shoulders. I do it to give her time to get wet, but I find that she’s already drenching when I reach between her legs. “Always wet for me.”
“Always.”
I ease inside her, and it’s impossible to suppress my groan. I pull back and thrust slowly, savoring the squeeze of her body around mine. “Fuck, I can’t believe how tight you are.”
How can she have given birth twice, almost three times, and still feel this virgin-tight? A woman’s body can do amazing things.
I thrust a few more times. “Is this position good for you?”
She’s tilting her bum upward, rocking to meet me with every stroke. “Mmm-hmm, but I want you to rub me. Make me come with you.”
I reach around her pregnant belly to that sensitive place between her legs. She moans, and without a word, I know I’ve hit it. “Right there, Kieran.”
I circle the whole area fast and hard. Slow and soft. Back and forth. Side to side. I give her a little of it all.
I move faster. My cock and fingers. “I want to feel your body squeeze me because you’re coming so hard.”
“Ohh… I’m coming, Kieran.”
I bury my face in the back of her hair. “I love you, Westlyn. So fucking much.”
She reaches over her shoulder and grabs the back of my head. “I love you, too.”
I plunge into her one last time and hold that position while my balls squeeze until they’re completely empty. When I finish, our arms, our legs, our entwined bodies collapse and go lax.
I pull out and reach for a pillow to place under her head. “Need one between your knees too?”
“Yes, please.”
I spoon behind Westlyn, wrapping my arm around her waist and rubbing her tummy. This is baby number three, and the movement I feel beneath my hand still amazes me. “He or she is going crazy in there.”
She places a hand on her belly next to mine. “I think this wee one will be coming soon.”
Her due date isn’t until next week. “Why do you say that?”
“I felt really good today.” She always gets a burst of energy the day that she goes into labor.
“Then you should get some sleep, in case he decides to come tonight.”
Westlyn’s prediction comes to pass five hours later when her water breaks, and we rush to the hospital. Same as last time. She’s barely admitted when she tells me that she needs to push.