“Yes, come inside me.” My voice is hoarse from the way I’ve been begging Wesley to make me come.
“As if I’d ever fucking pull out,” Wesley grunts, though that’s a lie because he’s painted my body in his cum multiple times since we’ve been together.
“Wesley.” His name leaves my lips, and he kisses me to keep me from screaming out my orgasm and waking up Jameson. Our kiss is full of love and devotion, a pledge to our love for one another.
“Dylan,” he breathes against my lips as I feel his cum jet deep inside me. This feeling, it never gets old, and while I was down for the count for six weeks, it didn’t mean we weren’t creative, but it still wasn’t the same as the connection I feel when we’re together like this.
Wesley maneuvers us so we’re on our sides, my leg slung over his hip, his cock not leaving my warmth, and he’s still hard.
“Love you, sweetheart.” Wes kisses my forehead. Tears sting my eyes because I can feel the emotion resonating in his words and body.
“I love you, Wesley. So very much.” My eyes close. I feel safe in his arms, just like I always do.
Epilogue
Wesley
Four and a Half Years Later
“Oh, my goodness, Jameson, you can’t do that while Mommy is working,” I hear Dylan tell our son. Her desk is now in my office, and we brought in a secretary to handle the phone calls, greeting associates, and other tasks. I wanted Dylan with me in our office, not outside. Plus, it helps with us bringing Jameson to work with us. Right now, he’s our only child and may just be the one and only. It wasn’t that Dylan had a hard pregnancy; it’s that we’re both happy and feel complete at this point in our lives with a family of three.
Right now, he’s sitting next to Dylan at her desk, his own play laptop beside her computer, but that doesn’t stop him from banging on her keyboard. He’s going to give us a run for our money, that’s for sure. I still can’t believe how Jameson is the perfect mixture of the two of us—her blue eyes and my brown hair. Though he does have my insane amount of energy and her independent streak, which is why I called my father this morning to see if he wanted to spoil our little monster.
“How much longer?” Jameson looks at me with his puppy dog eyes. Today, he woke up with more energy than normal, and I knew with the things we had going on, there was no way he’d be able to stay in an office for most of the day.
“Not much. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit? Mom looks like she needs to work, buddy.” I walk towards him. His arms reach out to me, the universal sign that he wants me to pick him up.
“Okay, can I have a snack?” Never mind that we all just had breakfast an hour ago. Our boy is a snacking machine. Of course, that doesn’t help with him being more of a grazer than a meal eater. At first, we were concerned about it, but the doctor assured us that it’s very normal and won’t have any adverse issues later on.
“Come on, let’s get you a banana. Once Gramps gets here, he’s going to load you up with all kinds of sugar.” I walk towards the small area in my office that holds a minibar. There’s more water and juices than there is alcohol these days, along with fruits, nuts, and vegetables.
“No banana. Applesauce.” He pouts out his bottom lip, as if either one of us could say no, especially if he’s not asking for junk food.
“He’s got a mind of his own. Jameson,” Dylan gets his attention.
“Yeah, Momma?” His head whips around.
“Only one. The last time you had three, your belly hurt all day, remember?” Thankfully, when that happened, he was potty trained and not in a diaper because we were both running to the bathroom with him. One of those times, it was definitely a narrow miss.
“I know, Momma.” His little attitude comes out. What did I say, independent much?
“Where’s my favorite grandson?” My dad walks into the office. The snack is abandoned, and he runs as fast as his little legs can to reach him.
“Grampy!” I’m pretty sure the floor below us can hear his glee when it comes to seeing my dad.
“There’s my boy. I hear you’re ready to blow this popsicle stand. Want to hang out with an old man? We’ll grab some ice cream and a hot dog for lunch.” My dad knows the way to Jameson’s heart—sugar first and foremost, and the hot dog cart down the street, that’s all he needs. More often than not, he’ll take him to the park, only bringing him back when he’s tired and dirty. We tease him relentlessly, but honestly, we love how they interact with one another.