Page 106 of Little Blue

We stay like that for a long minute in the aftermath of yet another orgasm. I feel truly shattered now. Wholly spent. Exhausted.

My body is limp where it hangs around his. My breaths fall in shattered pants, and the thundering drum of my heart is less intense, like the distant echoes—the aftermath of a violent storm.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

“Nooo,” I protest, but even that is weak. “I’m so tired.”

Ilya laughs, deep and low and delicious enough to have my tired core spasming. He feels it, I think, because he lets out another curse. Then he shifts to lay me down, his lips pressing to my forehead a moment before he tells me, “Wait here.”

I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy.

Ilya disappears into the bathroom, returning a few moments later still gloriously naked and with a cloth in hand. He cleans me up before he lays down next to me and the fire, propped up on one arm as he looks down at me.

Awareness prickles my skin with goosebumps that make his lips stretch into a smile, and silently, he pulls a blanket up over my body. I snuggle into the soft warmth, happily roasting next to the fire with Lucy sleeping close, my fiancé closer.

“Do you want kids?”

I startle at his question, feeling my eyes pop wide. “W—what?”

“Children. Do you want them?”

“I—y-yes.”

His eyes sweep over the blanket that covers my body. “You want them soon?”

Holy crap. Is he serious?

Being honest, I shake my head. “No. Not soon.”

“If that’s the case, we’re going to need to get you on birth control.”

“Oh.” Understanding relief floods me. I tease, “You could just wear a condom, you know?”

His expression darkens, and he grips my chin between thumb and finger. “Nothing comes between us when I fuck you. When I come, I come inside you.”

Heat sweeps through my body, tinting my flesh pink. I whisper, “There he is.”

His eyes search mine, and he releases me. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I quip, “I thought I was the reason for your beating heart.”

His eyes pin mine. “Don’t be smart.”

I laugh. I can’t help it, and I’m rewarded when his lips twitch. I wish he smiled more.

Then, growing serious he asks, “But you do want kids?”

“I do.”

“Good.” His eyes heat, and he wets his lips. My own part as I watch. “Because I’m going to fill your belly with my babies.”

Why is that so hot?

“How many do you want?”

His eyes smolder. “As many as you’ll give me.”

My eyes widen. Needing to temper his expectations, I hurry to say. “Three is the max, big boy.”

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