I smile, a proud of myself smile, and he bites my bottom lip.
I watch the sheen of perspiration that covers my beautiful creature as he holds my ankles wide in the air, feeding his desires with my body. “You’re so fucking wet. Dripping for me,” he purrs as he watches his cock disappear into me. Our bodies start to make a loud slapping sound as he fucks me hard.
Bloody hell, once again, I start to quiver. Stop dirty talking; you know it’s my undoing.
The sight of his sweaty, muscular body, the sound of my wet skin clinging to his, and the feeling of his thick, engorged cock sliding through me is too much.
“Joshua,” I whimper.
He picks me up and throws me over onto my knees, yanking my legs apart as far as they go. Then he is riding me hard while he grips both of my hips and slams me back onto his cock. He goes harder and faster, until he’s pushing my shoulders down onto the mattress to get deeper.
This is how he fucks me. He’s never deep enough, never hard enough, never close enough.
“You feel so fucking good.” He growls and stills, and I feel his cock jerk deep inside of me, forcing me to close my eyes as another orgasm steals my ability to articulate anything. I struggle for breath as my heart hammers in my chest.
And then, as if by some miracle, my gentle man comes back to me and showers the curve of my spine with tender kisses. He lays his body over mine and I feel his lips on my cheek before he nibbles my ear.
“I love you,” he whispers.
I smile breathlessly. “I love you.”
I feel him smile broadly. “I love fucking you more.”
We fall onto the bed in a tangled mess and kiss, long slow kisses. Even when we have rough sex, there is an overwhelming feeling of love between us, an overwhelming feeling of what we have is so very precious. And we can never forget that because it governs most of our daily thoughts.
We lie still for ten minutes before Joshua stands and kisses my hip.
“Shower.” He slaps my behind.
“Hmm.” I’m dozing.
“Come on. Up. It’s eleven. I’m making breakfast.”
I drift off but vaguely hear him shower, go downstairs and fuss around in the kitchen.
I feel the bed bounce as Joshua jumps on it. “What’s this?” he demands.
Hmm, I keep my eyes closed and pull the blankets over my head. God, stop being so fucking perky. I’m feeling very hungover here.
“Natasha.”
“Hmm.” I pull the blankets back over my head in a fuck off not now symbol.
“I know what this is.”
“Oh God, Joshua, I want to sleep in,” I groan.
“So, you are taking pregnancy tests without me now?”
Huh? My eyes open instantly. Oh fuck. I left it in the drawer. I pull the blankets even farther over my head.
“I did it the other day.” I close my eyes again; God, I am really tired here.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was only going to tell you if it was positive.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh.” He thinks for a moment. “So, it was negative then?”
“Yes.”
He starts to tap me on the head with it to annoy me. “One egg or two?”
I snatch it from him. “Stop it.”
“Do you want avocado?”
“Yes, please.” I roll over onto my back and hold up the test to look at it, I frown.
“What?”
I frown as I try to wake up. Am I seeing things here?
“What are you frowning at?” he asks.
“Why are there two lines on this test?”
He takes it from me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are there two lines on this test?”
He shrugs as he looks at it. “I don’t know, you tell me. You took the test.”
I keep staring at it in horror. I got totally drunk last night.
“What do two lines mean?” he asks.
“Two lines means positive,” I whisper.
“It does?”
I put my hand over my mouth as I try to think. “It was one line the other day.”
He stands, and then sits back down, and then he stands again.
I shake my head. “It must be dodgy. Maybe they don’t age right.”
Joshua frowns at me. “Do we have another test?”
“Um.” I think for a moment. “Downstairs in a brown paper bag in my hand bag, under my desk in the office.”
Joshua jumps up and practically runs down stairs. I sit up in bed. Fuck. Why did I drink so much last night?
He returns as he rips open the bag and fumbles around getting the second test out of the bag.
He passes it over and smiles cheekily.
My eyes hold his and I snatch it from him. “It’s negative, don’t give me that hopeful look. You are going to be disappointed. See, this is why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He kisses me gently. “You could never disappoint me.”
“W-we are not ready to be parents,” I stammer.
“Why not?”