Page 90 of Worth the Heat
“Momma, no.”
I sigh exasperatedly. “If you take a bath right now, you can have a lollipop before dinner.”
He smiles sweetly, but I see the victorious look in his eyes. Nico hates taking a bath, but a barter was necessary. “Go take a bath.”
“I want a cherry sucker,” he replies, gleefully skipping past Sebastian to the staircase. “Come, Daddy!”
“Demanding little bugger,” Sebastian mutters, leaning down to absentmindedly kiss the top of my head. “When does the window guy come out to put the child locks on all the windows and doors?”
I sigh. “In three days.”
The amount of child-proofing we’ve had to do in our house is absurd. Multiple locks on every door, upper cabinet locks, all chemicals in a spot Nico can’t access, and medications in a box with a keypad. Nico understands the concept of the word “no,” but his curiosity takes over his impulse control way too often. He wants to know how everything works. Natalie has encouraged me to talk to our pediatrician about ADHD, but I haven’t done it yet. He’s only three. Even if he is diagnosed, the only thing we can really do at this point in his development is add occupational therapy. I want to wait a little longer, and let Nico be a kid, before we start the stress of doctors, potential specialists, and therapists. I don’t like the idea of medicating my preschooler, and I’ve been researching more natural ways to help his activity and focus.
Not surprisingly, Nico hasn’t taken too kindly to the changes.
“Thank fuck,” Sebastian breathes. “This kid is running me ragged.”
Don’t I know it.
There were many nights when Nico was an infant that Sebastian and I were still able to enjoy our time together. Sure, we were tired. But a quick orgasm or two was a nice culmination to a busy family day. Now, however, we’re both so damn exhausted by bedtime. Wewantto have sex, but neither of us has the energy.
Fortunately, Sebastian’s parents take both Nico and Camila every Saturday night, with the expectation that we have a date night.
I’m sure they’d rather not know that we rarely leave the house, and a lot of times, Sebastian basically attacks me before the kids are even buckled into their car seats.
Tonight is a Saturday night, but the kids are with us later than normal. Sebastian’s grandmother had some kind of event she wanted to attend in Denver, and she dragged my grandmother with her. Because no one in either family trusts two octogenarians to drive down the mountain to Denver, Sebastian’s parents took them.
“When willAbuelitoandAbuelitabe here to get us?” Camila asks as I finish rolling out my dough balls, covering them with a dish towel so they can rise, and begin focusing on the sauce for my pasta dish.
“In an hour or so.Abuelawanted to stay at her craft thing a little longer.”
“What craft thing?” Camila asks.
“Cross-stitch, I believe.”
She scoffs. “Abueladoesn’t cross-stitch. DoesNonna?”
I laugh as I shake my head. “Nonnaonly gets crafty if someone forces her to. She has never been interested in sewing or stitching of any kind.”
“Why’d she go?” Camila asks.
I shrug. “Because your great-grandmother asked her to. I’m sure that they both had a great time, regardless of the topic. I have no doubt they enjoyed antagonizingAbuelitothe entire time.”
Camila giggles. “Abuelitaprobably encouraged it.”
Now ten, Camila is growing up to be a beautiful young lady. She’s already showing interest in following in Natalie’s footsteps into elementary education. She loves the opportunity to watch her younger cousins whenever possible, and she asks a lot of questions about what life is like for a teacher. As she’s getting ready to head into middle school, I’m so damn proud of how empathetic, intelligent, and loving she is. She may get irritated byher brother from time to time, but I have no doubt she’d be ready to throw down for him if needed.
“Sebastian!”I shriek, giggling as he throws me over his shoulder and takes the stairs two at a time. I slap his ass exuberantly, and he returns the gesture with a smack of his own. We may have accidentally figured out a couple of years ago that I find it incredibly arousing to be spanked.
Running into our bedroom, I’m tossed onto our bed with flourish. I laugh as I bounce, but when Sebastian manages to remove my shorts and underwear while mid-bounce, the laugh turns immediately into a moan as he covers my pussy with his mouth. I grab fistfuls of his hair, holding him in place, and I feel him chuckle against me, the hot breath against my clit sending a wave of endorphins throughout my body. It’s a wonderful dance we play in bed: I attempt to move his head where I want his tongue, and he laughs as he refuses to give me control. I know he’ll get me where I want to be, but I still fight him about it. Our odd version of foreplay.
“Loosen up, or I won’t let you come, baby,” he mutters against me, resting his head against my thigh, and I automatically let go of his hair. “That’s my girl.”
We may have also realized I have a praise kink.
Sebastian gives me a quick, harsh flick-flick of his tongue on my clit, then backs off, choosing to circle it slowly. I growl in frustration, making him chuckle again. “Enjoy every sensation,mi Reina. Relax. I’ll get you there. You know I will.”
From experience, I expect he’ll get me there five or six times before he finally comes himself. Forcing myself to relax, I let out a long sigh as I close my eyes. Focusing just on the sensations, I moan as I feel him lick down to my ass, circling the tight bud overand over again. Our sex life has expanded since our marriage, and we’ve found that we both enjoy ass play. The hardest I’ve ever come was with Sebastian buried deep in my ass, and a dual action vibrator inside my pussy simultaneously stimulating my clit. The orgasm seemed to go on for minutes, and I’ve chased that high ever since.
