Bound By Blood Anthology

Romero’s lips traced my throat. “You didn’t get much sleep in the last few months. If you want to sleep, I’ll hold you.”

Despite my body’s need for sleep, I also felt another growing yearning, and I knew Romero would feel an even stronger desire. “No,” I said softly. “Not tonight.” In my words swung my need for more and Romero picked up on it. As we listened to music, Romero’s hands caressed my breasts. The touch was gentle, almost fleeting. His palms and fingertips barely brushed my sensitive nipples but they puckered eagerly. Soon his cock grew hard against my back. He kissed my throat and the tender spot behind my ear as his fingers focused on my nipples, lightly circling them.

Romero’s soft teasing was just what I needed to awaken my body. Without meaning to, my legs slid farther apart, pressing firmer against Romero’s muscled thighs. One of his hands slid down my belly until his fingertips brushed my pubic bone and brushed over my folds. As with my breasts before, his touch was careful, light. His fingers seemed to discover my folds with gentle strokes, rarely touching my clit, which swelled under the soft ministrations. I turned my head and kissed Romero, tasting him. His index finger rubbed small circles on my clit. Soon I rested bonelessly against him as we kissed and he cherished me. Despite the slow pace my body soon tightened with pleasure. Romero pulled back, our eyes locked, his fingers keeping up their slow caress of my clit and nipple. My lips parted, my lashes fluttered and then my release overwhelmed me. I moaned, my body arching into Romero. He kept up his caress until I sagged against him, spent as if we’d spent hours making love as in the past.

He slid one of his fingers into me, causing me to moan again as he began to fuck me with it slowly. I reached behind myself and stroked his length. Romero’s breathing deepened immediately and he added a second finger to my center, making my inner walls clench. My head dropped back against his shoulder as I peered into his eyes.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped.

“I won’t,” he promised. I loved the darker, deeper timbre his voice took on when we made love.

I was getting closer and closer, my hips bucking in rhythm with his fingers, and then stars burst in my vision. Romero breathed heavily, his arousal unmistakable at my back.

“Ride me, Lily,” Romero murmured.

I turned around and hovered above him, his tip brushing my throbbing entrance. Our lips met in a gentle kiss as I lowered myself on his cock. When he was sheathed all the way in me, we both paused, our eyes locked.

“This feels so good,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Romero breathed. It still amazed me how good Romero could make me feel, how loved and cared for. I hadn’t regretted marrying him for a single moment. He was the love of my life and the best father I could imagine.

Romero grabbed my hips, guiding my movements as I rocked up and down. The water sloshed gently around us as our bodies slid against each other. Soon my rocking turned almost desperate as I drove Romero’s cock deeper into me. One of his fingers found my bundle of nerves, rubbing it. My hold on Romero got tighter as I got closer. “Tell me when you come,” Romero panted.

“Not long.”

My movements became jerky, uncoordinated, but Romero’s upward thrusts hit just the right angle. “I—” Words died on my tongue as a wave of pleasure radiated through me but Romero knew my body.

He threw his head back and gripped my hips hard as he came with me.

I slumped against his chest, breathing harshly.

A sound came from the baby monitor. Both Romero and I held our breaths, listening but it was silent. I breathed in and giggled.

Romero rubbed my back. “I missed this.”

“Me too,” I admitted. I hadn’t thought about sex as often in the last months but now I realized sex was more than pleasure, it was giving and receiving closeness on another level.

We stayed like that for a while before soft wails rang from the speaker. Sara was waking up. Romero kissed me and helped me get out of the bathtub. I quickly wrapped a towel around myself before I dashed off toward the nursery beside our room. Sara was bellowing by then and didn’t quiet until I’d settled on the plush armchair and nursed her. The towel was bunched around my hip and I knew I’d be getting the armchair wet, especially the constant dripping of my hair.

Romero came in, dry and in boxers but he carried a towel. He walked over to me and created a makeshift turban for my hair. “Do you need a blanket?”

“I’m not cold,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”