His Gothic Valentine

“Yep, come on out of that tub.”

“It’s still early. The club doesn’t open for hours yet,” she says.

“True, but I’ve got other plans for you,” I tell her, holding the towel out for her.

“Oh, do you now?” she asks, standing. I watch as the water slides down her body. Fuck. My cock hardens in my pants, and I know that I need her.

“You didn’t get champagne, did you?”

“No. Why do you want some?”

“No. I can’t drink tonight or for the next nine months.”

“You’re pregnant again?” I ask. Our youngest is only nine months old. I wasn’t expecting another one so soon, but again we do nothing to prevent it either. We never have and won’t until Rainn’s doctor tells us otherwise. She was the one who decided that, and I am more than happy to go along with whatever she wants.

“Yep. I thought I was yesterday and could get in to see the doctor, who confirmed it today. Are you happy?”

“I am. You know I am.”

“You never know, Ev. It might be a boy.”

“I’ll settle for happy and healthy.”

“I know,” she says, kissing me. That kiss turns into so much more.

We make love for hours until she deems she’s ready for the club. There we dance until closing and walk home only to make love all night.

Nine months later, our seventh daughter was born, happy and healthy. My queen and princesses couldn’t have been more pleased, and neither could I.

I never thought such a gorgeous, curvy girl could be all mine, but I am glad she is. My life didn’t really have any meaning until I met her. Who would have thought a gothic beauty would love me as much as she does? Not me, for sure, but I am the luckiest man in the world, and I don’t take that for granted.