Page 24 of Ho Ho Oh No

On top of that, we need to get our sexy times in while we can. Once the twins arrive, it’ll be a while before we can fly our freak flags. We need to be like sexual squirrels, storing ournutsfor the winter.

Get it?Heh. Heh. Nuts.

The click of the door lock echoes in the bunk room as I lower myself to the edge of the bed with the grace of an elephant ballerina, minus the tutu.

“Turn onto your side, princess,” Sawyer orders, layering heat on his smoky timbre.

Dutifully, I flop backward, then log roll to my side like the overstuffed sausage I am. The grunt that leaves me does so on its own accord. I cannot control the sounds coming out of my mouth anymore.

My husband’s muted laughter wraps around me from behind like a warm blanket as he joins me on the bed.

“Here, princess. One for the belly.” He helps me tuck a pillow under my gigantic stomach. But he’s not done spoiling me. He knows the routine by now. “And this one between your knees.”

After he surrounds me with approximately twenty-seven pillows, he hovers his face a few inches over mine. “Comfy, my love?”

“Best as can be expected, given there are two fully baked humans camping out inside me.”

His features sag, showing some of the empathy he’s got in droves.

Longing to turn his frown around, I beam at him without a lick of sarcasm. “I love you, Sawyer. Thanks for taking such good care of me. You’re the best husband in the universe.”

That isn’t lip service. He’s been waiting on me hand and foot for the last several months. We’re lucky I didn’t get gestational diabetes from all the sweetness he’s doused me with.

“Didn’t I tell you I was gonna treat you like my princess?”

“Youdidsay that.”

“Man of my word,” he boasts with a saucy wink that makes my mouth water. “Now, let’s work out those knots. Can’t have my wife in pain. That’ll never do.”

“Pretty sure it’s inevitable at this point.”

Without wasting any time, he gets to work on my middle and low back.

His touch is heaven.

And he gives it so freely; it’s as if he actively remembers the time I told him about being touch-starved. Since that day, he’s made it his life’s mission to keep my love well topped off. Yet even when it’s overflowing, I still crave more.

I’ll never get enough of his hands on me or mine on him.

We’re about ten minutes into the massage when his hands start drifting lower. It’s subtle at first. A simple caress of my ass on a downward pass. A few strokes later, he does it again. The next time, he dives lower. Another time, he sneaks around to the front.

His breath picks up as he shifts his positioning, bringing his lower body closer. He twines his legs with mine.

Eventually, his covert seduction fails him, and what he wants to do becomes blindingly obvious. Unless he wasn’t trying to be covert at all. Because he’s as subtle as an erection to the eyeball.

Wrapping one of his strong hands around my hip, he gently tugs me backward. At the same time, he thrusts his cock against my ass. Surprising no one, he’s hard and growing harder.

Poke. Caress.Poke. Ass rub.Pokity poke poke.

“Someone’s getting frisky,” I goad him, feigning aggravation. I’m sure he doesn’t buy it. Especially since I’m beginning to pulse my ass backward to tease him.

But it’s fun to play hard to get. He likes the thrill of the chase.

Probably.

I sure like having him chase me. It reminds me that he still wants me despite the fully distended hot air balloon I’m smuggling under my stretched-out shirt.

As insatiable as we were before getting pregnant, I worried some of that would fade as the twins grew. Turns out, those fears were unfounded. If anything, he’s been hornier. He said I gave him a breeding kink when I ordered him to finish inside me that first time we had sex.

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