The Amendment (The Contract 2)

Before she had a chance to recover, I was inside her, welcomed into her body in a hard thrust of need that made us both gasp in pleasure. I moved in long, powerful strokes, gripping her hips, holding her against me as I claimed her. Her noises spurred me on, her soft moans and pleas fueling my desire. She was hot and wet—her pussy gripping me with the intensity of her need. I changed my angle, hovering over her, bracing myself on one hand as I wrapped the other arm under her shoulders and pulled her mouth up to meet mine. Our tongues slid together, mimicking the same timing as our bodies. Katy trembled as I ran my hand over the swell of her ass, hitching her closer. I slowed my movements, my thrusts becoming leisurely. I rolled my hips, hitting her exactly where she wanted. Needed.

Loving her the way I knew she desired.

She cried out at the new angle, her body taking me even deeper. I groaned, the sensations already too much. She was all around me tonight, filling me up with emotions and making my body ache for her.

“Come for me, baby. I’m not going to last much longer, and I need you to come first,” I begged. I slid my hand between us, pressing on her clit in light touches the way she loved. “Please.”

She cried out, gripping my shoulders, coming around me. Her blunt nails dug into my skin as she arched and writhed. Her muscles fluttered and clamped down around me, drawing an orgasm out of me. Like liquid fire, it lit up my nerves, my balls tightening, and I exploded, drowning in the ecstasy I only ever experienced with my wife. Ecstasy that was not only physical but filled with a depth of emotion that took me to a whole other level.

I buried my face into her neck, riding out the waves of bliss. Words fell from my mouth, garbled and low, her name repeated often, until I was spent. Until I collapsed into her, unable to move, think, or feel anything except her softness and warmth.

Moments passed and I rolled us to the side, unable to separate from her but knowing I needed to lift my weight away. I nuzzled into her hair that was wild and messy from my hands. Kissed her neck that I had licked and bitten in my passion. Stroked the skin on her back that was damp and warm from our coupling. Held her close until we both stopped trembling and could form a sentence.

“You are amazing.” Was all I could muster. “I’m the luckiest bastard on earth.”

She snuggled closer. “Oh, Richard—that was…just…wow.”

I chuckled into her hair. “Wow is a good word.” I glanced over at the clock. “Hey, it’s past midnight. Merry Christmas.”

She looked up, her blue eyes tired, sated, and happy. “Merry Christmas.”

I tucked her against me. “Go to sleep. Gracie is going to come roaring in here in a few hours, demanding we get up. It’s gonna be a long-ass day.” I yawned. “But what a way to start.”

She sat up, her eyes luminous in the candlelight. “I wanted to give you my Christmas gift now.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“No, there’s more.”

She looked excited and nervous all at the same time. Her fingers twisted and clenched on her lap. Her toes wiggled in anticipation.

“Must be some present. You’re practically vibrating.”

“It is.”

“Not a new tie or some funky Maddox-like socks?” I teased her.

She shook her head, if anything, looking more nervous now than excited.

I grinned. “Okay, Mrs. VanRyan. Lay it on me.”

She reached into the drawer and pulled out a small bag. It was festive and glittery, tissue paper hiding the contents. She slipped it into my waiting hands. “Merry Christmas, Richard.”

I pulled on the tissue paper and opened a small package. It revealed a ball of yellow fluff. I frowned in confusion. It was too small to be a scarf, and the color was pastel. I fingered the wool, noting the softness.

“Ah,” I muttered. “It’s a…?” I let my voice trail off and looked up at Katy. Her eyes were damp, and she was biting her lip in one of her nervous tells.

“Look closer.”

I pulled on the ball, more confused as it separated into two bundles that fell to the mattress. I picked one up, studying it, realizing it had a shape.

A small bootie.

Like a baby bootie.

Exactly like a fucking baby bootie.

I snapped up my head, meeting Katy’s teary gaze.

“Katy?” I breathed.

She pressed a small blue stick into my hand. It was familiar since I had seen one like it twice before.

“A baby? You’re pregnant?”

She nodded.

I pulled her to me, encircling her in my arms. She wrapped her legs around me, holding me close. “Sweetheart,” I murmured. “How far along?”

She leaned back. “The night we went dancing to celebrate your ditching of the cane. So, a couple of months.”