“Make room.”
“For what?” he pushed.
I bit my lip.
I wasn’t sure yet. Not one hundred percent anyway, but I was ninety nine percent sure.
“For your babies.”
His hand froze halfway to me.
“It’s been two weeks,” he rasped, his eyes serious and hot on mine.
I swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s enough time.”
“What makes you so sure?” he asked. “Did you take a test?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “But my breasts are so sensitive today. Yesterday they were sensitive, too, but today they’re crazy responsive. Even to my t-shirt.”
I shrugged the sweatshirt I was wearing off and tossed it to the floor.
Tunnel’s eyes zeroed in on my breasts, and he bit his lip as he got his first look at the tight beads of my nipples.
His hand rose, and he trailed just a single finger down the perky tip.
I shivered as wetness started to gather between my legs.
“I’ve had some spotting and cramping,” I continued, a little more breathlessly this time. “And I’m so horny.”
That, he knew.
He knew, because I’d practically jumped his bones the minute I got home from work last night. He’d been sitting in the living room with Sienna, who still didn’t know about him but was becoming so attached to him that it wouldn’t be long before Tunnel would have no choice but to tell her. I’d given him one single look, and he’d followed me to the laundry room.
It was my routine, every night, to change out of my clothes into something that wasn’t coated in hospital cooties. But last night, Tunnel had followed me in, taken one good look at me, and had bent me over the washing machine. He then proceeded to fuck me, make me come, and he did all of that in under six minutes.
This morning, I’d woken him up well before dawn with my mouth. Then, an hour and a half ago, once I’d gotten back from dropping Sienna off at her Explorer camp, I’d forced him to take me again.
Now, here I was an hour and a half later, and I was already needy for him again.
And the moment he realized it was definitely a possibility that I was pregnant with his child, his eyes flared. “I remember when you were pregnant with Dee.”
My mouth curled.
“I have a feeling,” I said, rocking my hips when he crowded in close. “That this is going to be the same.”
He had no words.
Instead, his mouth dropped down to mine.
And then he kissed me.
Seven times.
Seven times.
The ground beneath me pitched, and I fell, straight into Tunnel’s arms.
He’d never let me fall, and he never had.
My breath hitched, and I stared up at him with tears in my eyes.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get that part of you back,” I whispered.
He curled his hand around my hair.
“I had to force myself to stop,” he said. “The urge to do it was still there, though, and it always has been.”
I bit my lip as tears started to fall down my cheeks in torrents.
At first, he tried to kiss them away, but when they became too much for him, he started to focus on my mouth.
Always in groups of seven.
Seven licks.
Seven sucks of my tongue.
Seven feather light kisses around my lips.
“Did I ever tell you that seven has always been my lucky number?” I teased him, trailing the tips of my fingers up his side.
“So how about seven kids?” he teased right back, sliding down to his knees in front of me.
My eyes widened.
“The number seven isn’t that lucky.” I latched onto his hair. “Oh, Tunnel.”
He placed seven kisses just below my navel, and I realized as a tear dropped down onto his head, that I’d never stopped crying.
The tear ran through his unruly locks. He was growing his hair out…for me.
When he’d finally made mention of my hair being way too short, telling me that I would be growing it out from now on, I’d also asked him to do the same for me. Which he said he would…to an extent.
Now I could actually get my fingers locked in it, and I loved it.
“I hope our baby has your curly hair,” I whispered down at my husband.
He looked up, and those olive green eyes caught on mine, making my breath hitch with all the emotion that was shining out of them.
“I hope it’s a boy.”
I grinned.
“You’re destined to have all girls, Tun,” I told him. “They’re going to make your life a living hell, and you’re going to enjoy every second of them doing it.”
He shook his head, but we both knew it was true. If we had another girl, she would have him wrapped around her little finger just as easily as Sienna did from the moment of her birth.
“I’m already late for my meeting, so, I’m going to make love to you for the rest of the time I have left,” he declared, unbuttoning my jeans.
I grinned and stepped out of them, one foot at a time.
When my panties soon followed, following the same steps as the pants, he stopped and rested my foot against his shoulder.
Then leaned forward until his mouth was only a few scant inches away from my pubic bone.
“I have to taste you first,” he growled.
And he did moments later, spreading the lips of my sex wide with his fingers and leaning forward to trail his tongue down the seam of my sex.
I shuddered and reached for his hair to keep me steady, liking that I now had something to hold on to.
“Y-y-you taste better, too,” he growled, then went in for another lick.
I wanted to cry out when I heard that stutter. That was the stutter that made me fall irrevocably in love with him.
And another. And another. Until he reached the number seven.
That was how I came, hard, on his face. He had one arm curled around my left thigh, pulling my sex apart, while his tongue did all the work.
The moment I came, he growled into my pussy, and I seriously saw stars.
There wasn’t much that this man could do to me that he hadn’t already done, but every time he ground his face into me, and his beard would touch delicate places that had never felt a full beard before, I realized that I would beg him to keep it forever.
It was amazing.
The sensations that it left me with, some sweet, others a burn, caused me to realize that I would seriously freak out if he ever contemplated shaving it.
My body, wrung out from his ministrations, slid limply down the wall. My foot stayed where it was on top of his shoulder, meaning that my leg was straight up in the air despite my new position.
“I kind of like this,” he said, trailing one lone finger through the trail of wetness he’d left behind.
I shivered.
“You’d have your face touching the wall right now if you took me this way,” I panted. “And,” I glanced at the clock. “You have less than ten minutes until you need to go. So either you hurry, or you go without.”
He grinned, and then I found myself flying through the air. His hands on my hips lifted me up high, and he stood to his full height as he carried me like I weighed no more than a small child straight to the bed. He laid me down, following my progression with his own body, fitting the seam of his jeans against my wet core.
“You’ll get yourself messy,” I told him, uncaring.