Scarlett rolls over in her sleep, and something scratches against my skin, grazing the surface. When I crack open an eyelid, her ringed hand dangles over my arm. I shift a little and place my palm on her rounded belly.

My son kicks me, presumably pushing me away, claiming his mother as his own territory.

I don’t think so, pal. I relish in the sensation of his tiny fists knocking against my fingertips. No matter how long I live, there will never be an experience comparable to the sensation of my unborn child reaching out to me from my wife’s belly.

It is heaven itself.

Scarlett wiggles, uncomfortable with the heavy weight in her middle, and her eyes open for a fraction of a second. Her round lips curve upward as her eyes stay closed.

“What are you two doing up so early?” she asks, her voice husky with first use.

I can’t help myself. Even in her condition, I want her. Bad. My dick hardens. Is she up for a morning quickie? They do say that sex helps move things along with the birth process, and Scarlett is two days overdue as it is.

My hand drifts from her belly to her full breast, and I toy with a nipple that hardens at my touch.

Her eyes open, lust burning in them. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Wright.”

“I’m nothing if not dangerous, Mrs. Wright.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” She leans back while I roll her nipple between my fingers, knowing how much she loves it when I do. I don’t see any more kicking coming from her belly, and I know that our son has gone quiet, hopefully taking a nice little nap while I work his mother into a frenzy.

My other hand slides downward, and I caress her skin, which glows with her pregnancy. She is by far the most beautiful woman in the entire universe, and I have found myself craving her even more while pregnant. I’ve never wanted a woman more in my entire life than I have knowing that my seed is growing inside of her. The thought alone has my dick jerking forward, anxious to bury home.

My fingers slide down over her belly and slip beneath the thin fabric of her pajama pants, where I’m pleased to discover that she has opted to go without underwear. Her slick pussy greets my fingers with dripping wet heat, and I slide them around. I twirl my index finger around her little clit. She moans and tries to shift but her belly keeps her still, and I decide to play a little longer.

I keep my index finger busy on her clit, and I stretch my thumb down and slide it inside. She moans again, and her back arches into my hand as I fuck her with my thumb. I curl it inward to reach that magic spot. She jerks against it, and her ass presses down to accept more. Her belly bumps into me, and I arch my elbow to get a better angle. I test my own finger agility by using my ring finger to spread her hole until it gapes as I slide my thumb into it.

“Isaac,” she gasps, and I lean up and capture her lips with my own as she continues to seek more. Her hips arch into the air as high as her body will allow. My lips leave hers and travel south, and I tongue her nipple through her thin white tank top before I sink lower. I remove my hand as I pull her pants all the way down.

It’s a little tricky getting at her from this angle. The baby has clearly dropped. He could join me down here at any time but I don’t care. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s the taste of my wife’s pussy. I want her juices dripping down my chin before I take her from behind—the only way we can successfully fuck these days.

I tilt my chin and lap my tongue up and down her slit. She cries out my name, and I lay the flat of my tongue out before I shake it against her quivering clit, her legs already shaking. She comes so easy these days, I retract, wanting to drag it out a little longer. My dick is so ready to fuck her but I do one last round with my tongue. I stick it out long and fuck her with it. I taste every ounce of her before the muscles of her cunt pulse with a powerful orgasm.

She screams out my name, as she is prone to doing, and her body ceases its pulsing. I slide back up and gently turn her so her ass is facing me, and my pants drop to the end of the bed. Her pussy is slick with cum and spit, and I spread her vaginal lips once more as I guide the head of my dick to her to opening. I push myself in a little at a time, teasing her.

I love to tease.

Her ass presses back into me, and her pussy sucks in my dick on its own. I set a rhythm for myself. I start slow. I glide up and down the walls of her box. As she begins to moan again, I know it’s time to pick up the pace. We’ve been together long enough that I know Scarlett’s signs.

I thrust into her hard. I fuck her as I reach around and flick her shiny little bean, and she screams out in ecstasy.

“Yes. Just like that! Fuck me, Isaac! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

I do as she asks. I plow into her as I prepare to come. Her body pulses around me for a second time as I finally get my own release, and I grunt as I ejaculate inside her.

Lucky for us, birth control isn’t an issue at the moment.

I lay there, still inside her, and I cradle her body with mine as we wait for our breath to come back, for our heads to stop spinning. I reach my hand around her and rest it on her belly. It’s become a bit of a habit, and she doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“That was lovely,” she pants.

I chuckle. “It was. Do you want a cup of tea now?” I ask, making fun of her. She nestles a little deeper into my chest. My now limp dick slides out as I shift to hold her closer.

“Shut up. What are you up to today?”

“I thought I was going to be on paternity leave but someone doesn’t seem too keen on joining us yet.”

She pats her belly and places her hand over mine. “That’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to get this kid out of me. I can barely walk!”

“There might be other reasons for that.” I press my lips against her neck. I relish in the little shiver that spirals down her body at that touch.

“Yeah, well, don’t we have a high opinion of ourselves?”

“After giving you two orgasms this morning? Yeah, we do. Would you like another one?”

I lower my hand but as it drifts back south she stops it with her own, laughing.

“Down, boy. I have work to do today, and I’m never going to get it done if we keep this up.”

“I can keep it up as long as you wish,” I say, and she laughs at my double meaning.

“I am fully aware. Now help me up so I can get ready for work.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re already on maternity leave.”

“I’m not on maternity leave until the baby comes. Until then, the news doesn’t stop because I’m going to have a baby.”

“It stops for me. This is the only news I care about. You taking care of yourself and our son.”

In spite of my protest, I slide my pants back on and help her up, her russet curls bouncing along her shoulders as she uses the spring of the mattress to propel to a standing position. She glances back hopelessly at her pants on the bed.

“I’m never going to get those back on,” she says with a huff.

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her. I savor the soft feel of her. I whisper in her ear, “Good.”

She shivers again, and I wonder if I’m going to get one more round when she steps away and turns to look up at me. “You are insatiable.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

“And brownies.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

She laughs, and the musical sound is a harmony to my ears. She pads into the bathroom to get ready for the day, and I head in the other direction, toward the kitchen. Glancing around, it always astounds me what a difference a woman’s touch can make.

I will never regret eloping with Scarlett. We ran off to a little bed and breakfast in New Hampshire in the middle of winter, a blanket of snow all around us as we made our vows to a justice of the peace before a cozy fireplace. Given the time of year, we’d had the whole place to ourselves, and it was hands down some of the best sex I’ve ever had.

Certainly a night for the books.

She’d moved in shortly before that, and had insisted on making the place feel less like a bachelor pad. I had no reservations about it, and I’m glad. There is a warmth in my home now that was absent in my life for a long time. Even with my ex, marriage never felt quite like this. I crave my wife. I love everything about her, whether it’s her body, her mind, or her sense of decorative style. The little touches she’s made around our home make me smile for no reason.

Well, for one good reason, actually.

I set a kettle to boil as I pull out some fresh eggs and sausage from the fridge, determined to put food in that stubborn woman before she can get out the door. My biggest fear is that she’ll go into labor when I’m not there to help. I need to be sure she’s all right. I need to know my son is, too. I’m considering following her to work when she calls out from the bathroom.

“Isaac!”

Her voice sounds panicked, and I drop everything as I sprint down the hall. Buster is at my heels, and I nearly trip over him. When we reach the bathroom door, my eyes comb Scarlett for any sign of danger. I don’t see blood anywhere but at her feet there is a small pool of liquid. Her eyes collide with mine, wide and afraid.

“I think my water broke!”

“I think you’re right,” I say.

For an instant, my brain freezes, and I have no idea what to do. That moment passes fast as my action brain takes over. I’ve got this. We are going to get this baby out safely.

“Let’s get you dressed, and then we’ll head to the hospital,” I say. I move to grab her fresh clothing and help her dress before I grab our packed bag and head toward the front door. Before I forget, I turn off the stove so the house doesn’t catch fire while we’re away, then make it back to the door. I open it and look back. She is unmoved, staring at me.

“We have to take care of Buster,” she says.

What the fuck is she talking about?

“What? He’s fine, Scarlett. The downstairs neighbor will let him out.”

“But how can we be sure…”

I reach over and grab her hand. I force her to stare into my eyes. When she does, I can tell she’s afraid, and I hold her hand a little tighter.

“It’s going to be fine, Scarlett. Everything is going to be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re tough as hell. Birth isn’t going to faze you.”

“Are… are you sure?”

Her voice is small, and I wrap her in my arms. We stand like that in front of the door as I run my hands along her back, soothing her.

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. Now, let’s go meet our son.”

She releases a gusty breath, and she steels herself for the labor ahead. “You’re right. Let’s,” she says. She walks past me toward the stairs. I want to carry her down but she insists on going herself, Buster at our heels. When we reach the bottom floor, I knock at Scarlett’s old apartment door, and a young woman opens up. Her eyes comb over us both, and she nods understanding.

“Time?” she asks.

I nod.

“Time. Can you take Buster?”

The girl, Cassie, kneels down, and Buster rushes to her with his tongue out, ready to lick her with all his might. I know he’s in good hands with our newest neighbor, and it’s a comfort. Before this kid, Buster was basically my baby.

“Of course! Nothing to worry about here. Just go have that baby—good luck!”

“Thank you,” Scarlett breathes. She presses her hand to her belly as a contraction pounds through her. Her face scrunches up in pain, and I do my best once again not to carry her, running, to the hospital. Instead she hobbles out to the truck. I open the door and help her in, then run around the other side and kick the engine into gear. I plow out of the parking lot as I weave through traffic to the hospital.

Time crawls as Scarlett breathes hard through every contraction, her teeth gritted as she pushes through the pain. All I can do is drive faster, and I do. My tires screech as I pull the truck into the hospital parking lot.

“Can you walk?” I ask. Her eyes are closed as she grinds her teeth through another contraction, then she nods.

I don’t believe it for a second.

“Good. Because you don’t have to,” I say. I step out of the truck and open her door, carefully holding her in my arms. She doesn’t protest this time, and she wraps her arm around my neck as we step inside. A male nurse approaches us, eyes combing over Scarlett.

“What’s happened?” When his eyes land on her belly, he deducts the answer. “Labor?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“You’ll need to check in, and then you’ll be escorted to your room. We’ll provide a wheelchair.”

Fifteen minutes later, forms filled in, the nurse leads us to a private room, and I’m forced to step back as they lay her on the hospital bed and strap her into machines to monitor the baby, a gown draped over her. A female doctor with silvery hair walks in as Scarlett keels over with another contraction, and I step to her side. I grip her hand. She squeezes mine until it goes numb.

“Let’s take a look here,” says Doctor Hoyden. As she glances down, her expression changes.

“Ten centimeters. This baby’s coming! Scarlett, I’m going to need you to try and push.”

Scarlett looks up at me but I no longer see fear in her eyes. Instead, she’s determined. Sweat creases her brow as she bears down to push out the child. She releases a growl as she lays back, panting.

“This kid is ready to join us, Scarlett. One more big push should do it! Come on, you’ve got this.”

The doctor’s words of encouragement have Scarlett sitting up again. She gives my hand another massive squeeze as she pushes. Half an hour passes, each moment agonizing. She’s in pain and there’s nothing I can do to help her.

I hold her hand, dab sweat from her brow. Finally, Scarlett gives one final push, and collapses backward. A moment of silence and then fierce cries fill the room.

I’m a father.

Tears stream down Scarlett’s face as our son is placed in her arms, his lungs strong as he lets out a series of tiny wails. I wrap my arm around them both, my heart warm with the knowledge that I have a family of my own.

When Scarlett looks back up at me, she beams with joy. “We did it,” she says. “He’s stunning like his dad.”

“More like his mom,” I say. I stroke back a strand of hair from her forehead and plant a gentle kiss there.

A nurse takes the baby to get cleaned up, and when he’s returned to us cleaned and blanketed, I cradle him in my arms for the first time.

Scarlett scoots over so we can sit together, the two of us staring in awe at our new family member.

“What do you think we should name him?” I whisper.

She looks up at me with a smile. “I was thinking Charlie, after your dad.”

I clear my throat, which has a strange lump in it, and nod. “I think he’d like that a lot,” I say, stroking my son’s face. “Hello, Charlie. Welcome to the world.”

“You and I are the safest people on Earth,” Scarlett says to him, and I wrap my arm around them a little tighter.

They have no idea. They will be safe and loved for the rest of their lives. Knowing this as fully as I do, I relax into the bed. I have never been happier than I am in this moment.

Lucky for me, there are many more just like it yet to come.