Page 15 of Only His

I loved my daughter more than life itself—but I loved my wife just as much. That was the only thing Emily had gotten wrong. They were different types of love, yeah, but neither one was greater than the other.

Careful not to wake her, I placed Marissa in the crib and took a minute to stare down at her. She was a few months old already, but I was still in awe of her. Of the life we created together. Every night, I found myself hovering around her crib for a few extra minutes, smiling like a goof even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

Life was good. Better than I ever expected it to be.

There were definitely some shitty parts along the way though.

When push came to shove, I knew I couldn’t have both Emily and my friendship with her father. Hell, I knew that when I moved away. Nothing could happen between us without there being some kind of fallout.

It didn’t go quite as bad as I expected. Her mother had taken it better than her father, who rightfully felt betrayed. We never came to blows, but we did end up having an all-out blow up where things were said that could never be taken back. He cooled down a little when he realized nothing had happened between us before I moved. I wasn’t that guy.

Even so, our friendship couldn’t survive. He couldn’t bring himself to think of me as both his old friend and his future son-in-law. They were two separate identities that just didn’t mesh. Since there was no doubt in my mind that Emily was my forever, I accepted the loss. Heslightlywarmed up to the thought of me being with his daughter when he realized how serious I was about her, but things would never be the same between us.

It worth it. Emily and Marissa were everything to me. I’d give up anything and everything for my girls.

I double-checked that the baby monitor was working before switching off the lamp and ducking out of Marissa’s room. Making the way down the hall, I smiled when I heard Emily’s soft laugh coming through the door of our bedroom.

She was fresh out of the shower and sitting on the foot of the bed, laughing at something on the television as she rubbed lotion on her legs. I softly shut the door and snuck over to her, grinning when she jumped as I laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Jesus, don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” I lied, grinning when she rolled her eyes. With a playful wink, I asked, “May I?”

I swatted her hands away before she had a chance to answer, falling to my knees and taking over the task of moisturizing her legs. She was too engrossed in whatever she was watching to bother stopping me, which worked out well because I was engrossed with her soft skin and my rapidly hardening cock.

When my hands made it up to her thighs, her eyes started to droop and her attention waned. She glanced between me and the screen several times before reaching back blindly for the remote and turning it off. With a gentle push on her navel, she fell back to the bed and opened her legs wide, a wordless invitation.

“Lovely,” I murmured as I leaned in to nuzzle her panties with my nose. God, her scent was intoxicating. I licked the fabric, grinning when she moaned and wrapped a leg around the back of my head. “Do you want something?”

“You know I do,” she whined. “Hurry up. There’s no telling how long she’ll stay down for this time.”

“Don’t rush me. I have to finish what I started first. Where’s the bottle?”

She pointed to the nightstand and I stood to grab the lotion. She undressed quickly and I stroked myself through my sweats as her body was revealed to me. Fuck, I’d never get tired of looking at her. Never. She was still self-conscious about the changes to her body after the pregnancy—especially the stretch marks—but I loved it all. Every single change and mark, every sign that she was the mother of my child. Loved them. Lovedher.

Once she was bare, she laid down on her stomach. I climbed over her body and squeezed then lotion on her back, smoothing it over her skin and getting harder with every little mewl she made below me.

“I want to fuck you slow and deep until you’re digging those nails into my back and milking me dry with that tight pussy of yours.”

Thank fuck that she loved dirty talk because I couldn’t ever seem to stop myself from doing it. Hell, she even raised her ass into the air as much as she could at my words, practically begging me to take her just like that. I lowered my hips until the line of my cock was nestled between her cheeks and slowly began to rock my hips.

Fuck, it felt good. Too good for such a small amount of friction.

“You want it? Want my cum in you again?”

“Yes!”

“I’m going to knock you up again, you know that, right? If you keep begging me to come inside you, we’re going to keep having babies. Is that what you want?”

She stilled beneath me and I worried that I crossed some kind of line. Worried, I raised up on my knees, frowning when she turned her head back and I caught sight of the sly smile she was wearing. A thousand thoughts ran through my head all at once—most of them apologies—but not once did I consider what actually came out of her mouth.

“My period’s late.”

And just like it had the first time she told me she was pregnant, I got hit with a way of desperate desire for her. It had to be some kind of baser instinct—primal, raw—and the need to fuck grew so strong that I started to lose focus.

But I resisted. Barely.

“What?” I asked incredulously. “How late?”

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