Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Her shoulders fold in, her torso shrinking with an exhale. “I never want to be without your fierce love.”
Well, that’s handy, because it’s endless. I pull her close, as close as I can get her. Her watery eyes dart across my face. I’ve seen need in my wife before. But now? It’s powerful. “You won’t be. I’ll never stop loving you hard. It’ll only get harder because every day that passes with you is another day of memories with you. Memories I’ll treasure, not memories I want to forget. My mind is being filled with beautiful images of us, and they are replacing a history that lingers. They’re chasing away my past, Ava. I need them. I need you.”
“You have me.” She’s half swooning, half taken aback, her touch on my shoulders gentle but firm.
“Don’t ever leave me again.” I don’t mean for it to come out as an order, and yet it does. So I soften my demand with a kiss. “It hurt so badly.” I’m hauled up, her strength surprising, my big body wrapped in her dainty arms tightly.
“I’m crazy in love with you,” she whispers in my ear, making me smile. “Fiercely too. That’s never going to stop, not ever.” These are the words I needed to hear from Ava ever since she walked out on me—on our marriage—hours after we said vows. I can taste her forgiveness. I can taste our forever. Her lips on my ear makes my body shudder and my dick finally join the moment. Down, boy. “End of,” she adds.
End of. She’s so cute. “Good.” I find her mouth and kiss her deeply for the first time in what feels like years. “My heart is swelling,” I mumble as I lay us back down, Ava sprawled all over me, her breasts slipping over my skin. With all my might, I try to push the blood back, not wanting this to turn sexual, if only to prove that we can communicate without sex, even if neither of us are talking right now. It’s perfect. Utterly perfect.
I open my eyes, maintaining my tongue’s soft strokes through her mouth, wanting to see just how lost she is. So lost, completely in this kiss as I trace light hands across her back, humming my contentment, nipping at her lip before plunging into her mouth again.
And we go until my tongue aches and my cock aches harder. “Let me bathe you,” I whisper, slowing my mouth, Ava following my pace until our kiss comes to a natural stop.
“But I’m comfy,” she grumbles, burrowing deep into my neck.
“We can be comfy in bed, and you can fall asleep in my arms where you’re supposed to be.” Let’s keep up this closeness.
“It’s not even mid-af—” She stills against me for a brief second before she’s flying up in a panic. “I’ve not gone back to work,” she blurts, reality crashing into her.
For Christ’s sake. Work? She thinks of work now? I take her wrist and pull her back down. “I’ve taken care of it,” I say. “Unravel your knickers, lady.”
“When?” It’s not fair, but it bugs the shit out of me that my wife is answerable to another man. And I don’t care how chauvinistic that makes me sound.
“When I brought you home.” I put her between my legs and start soaking the sponge and squeezing it across her back. Would she agree to let me do this every day? Bathe her and wash her? Do all the things for her? Her tummy will grow, her mobility will suffer. I remember when Mum was expecting Amalie. Jake and I were only six, but I remember it vividly. She struggled, first with sickness—the reason for Ava’s aversion to my dick in her mouth recently is now confirmed beyond all doubt—her ankles got puffy, she was so tired, and getting up and down the stairs became a two-person job. She’s going to really need me. And I can’t wait.
“What did you tell him?” she asks, calm and accepting.
“That you’re ill.” But he’ll soon have the truth.
“He’ll be sacking me soon.” Ava’s head hangs heavily. Her words were without the despondency I would have expected. Is she now considering the merits of working for herself too? I can only hope. The seed was planted long ago. I thought it was dead in the ground, but perhaps . . .
I chew on my lip, discarding the sponge. Can she still be Little Miss Independent when she’s carrying our baby? Because surely I have some say in where my baby goes. Somehow, I don’t think Ava will agree, even after today when she’s been openly passionate about needing me. Which, come to think of it, is why? Why now, after all these weeks, has Ava come to her senses, opened up, and confessed she’s pregnant? What happened to instigate such an emotional confession? I don’t know, but whatever it was, I’m grateful. “Come on,” I say, sure I might rub her away with this sponge if I wash her anymore. I stand up and reach under her arms, lifting her to her feet and stepping out. She has a small ironic smile on her face as I pick her up and place her on the bath mat, quickly wrapping her in a towel. I ignore the smile. I can feel the cause between my legs, growing, yelling for some attention. It’s not happening yet, but when it does, it will be gentle. And another cause for a debate. I have a feeling there will be many discussions in the coming weeks while we navigate exactly how this is going to work. How we get through this pregnancy without me suffering a cardiac arrest or Ava killing me in frustration. But she can’t kill me. She needs me. I roll my eyes to myself. She needs me. Maybe today, but as soon as I make a . . . request, that need will vanish and defiance will bounce back. It’s going to be fun.