Epilogue
Five years later
Iris
“Mommy!”
I smiled as Elizabeth ran into my study. Granted, I was tired from morning sickness even five months into my second pregnancy. Her little brother was a big kicker already too. Add that to the deadline I was on for my next poetry collection, and I should be stressed, but every time I saw my little girl my heart melted. I had all the time in the world. With her big blue eyes and fair complexion, she looked like a mini-clone of Cal. Besides, it had taken so much to get her here, including two blood transfusions after I’d given birth and almost a week after that where no one had thought I’d make it.
Elizabeth Bennet O’Brien was a miracle, and not a day went by that I forgot it.
“Well, sweetie,” I said. “What are you doing up here?”
My four-year-old rolled her eyes. She was oddly practiced at that for such a young girl. Maybe it was the one skill I wished she hadn’t. “Duh, it’s time for Symone to come and take me to her house. I wanted you to tell me which jammies you liked better.”
“And didn’t Daddy tell you I was busy?”
Elizabeth giggled, a laugh so pure and happy, such a blessing that it was infectious. “He did, but I need to know. Symone has lots of things to do, and I wanna look like a princess.”
Callum strode into the room, owning it with every bit of swagger he’d ever held. He was king of our world, and I was happy to be his queen. To be honest, Elizabeth wasn’t even wrong about being a princess. She certainly enjoyed more wealth than most, but she also had two parents who couldn’t love her more.
Cal looked down at Elizabeth in her bright pink footie pajamas. They had a big silver crown with extra glitter at the chest level. “I already told you that you look like a princess.”
“But you’re a boy! Boys don’t know anything about princesses.”
“I know that you’re the best princess in the world, honey bunny,” Cal said, pressing Elizabeth’s nose. “Boop!”
She giggled again and rubbed at her nose. “Daddy. I don’t like that.”
Cal did it again. “But you laughed.”
Elizabeth shrieked and leapt into her father’s open arms. Gladly, he picked her up and spun her around. I had to smile at all of it. Was it only five years ago that I’d thought this could never be? That I’d be trapped in a boring life with a business I wasn’t ready to run and a career I hated? That I hadn’t thought I’d ever find a man to love me or that I loved so much in return. That felt like a hundred years ago, easily.
Like a whole other life.
A far worse one.
“Maybe your daddy will stop spinning you before you have an upset tummy, unless your daddy wants to also wear it too.”
“Does it come with glitter?” he asked, winking at me.
“I could try!” Elizabeth said as he set her down.
We both chimed in automatically. “Elizabeth, don’t eat glitter!”
“Wow, the weird things parents have to say,” I muttered. “I’m pretty sure Grammy and Ganpy only told me that I had to stay away from Elmer’s Glue and paste.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Mommy, you’re so silly.”
“She is, indeed, and that’s one of the reasons I love her so much,” Callum replied, setting a hand over my belly.
He was positively possessive when I was like this. It was like four months of constant palm-on-belly. I groaned about it and played up hating it, but I loved it. Loved my man’s protective side.
“I love Mommy too.”
“Good, but my editor is going to murder me because I’m behind on everything.”
He kissed me. “You’ll catch up, luv. Besides, we’ll see Elizabeth off, and we’ll read a bit and have time for you to do more poems tonight.”
I chuckled. “Reading” was the way I’d ended up five months pregnant with Andrew. To be fair, now that my pregnancy hormones had kicked in, we’d been “reading” quite a bit lately. “I’m not sure my editor wants that either.”
Callum smirked. “In due time, dear.” Then he knelt down and brushed Elizabeth’s dark curls back from her face. “So, are we going with the pink and crown pajamas?”
“I think I want to bring my pink ponies to Symone too, in case.” She leaned up to Callum’s ear and whispered, “Princesses get to change their minds a lot.”
Callum whispered back sotto voce. “I know.”
“And I think I can help you with the packing, squirt,” Symone said. She waddled a bit when she came into the room. At closer to seven months, Symone was quite round, but she was also insistent that we have our first date anniversary dinner and night alone together. Besides, her husband was on deck to be the one running after a precocious four-year-old. “Man, Dad, did I tell you how much this hurts? My back’s a mess, I haven’t seen my feet in forever, and I have to pee all the time. Why did no one warn me!”
I laughed. “That’s the point. It’s like a preggers cult. We tell you it’s great so you can experience how hard it is.” With some effort, I stood up and then pinched Elizabeth’s cheek. “But they’re totally worth it.”
Symone sighed. “Better be. Everything hurts!”
“But we’re going to play lots of games, aren’t we, sis?” Elizabeth asked.
Symone took her hand. “Let’s get to your room to pick up your other pair of jammies. And I’ll try, but you don’t want to play the napping game by any chance, do you?”
“I want to do hide and go seek!” she squealed.
“Close enough,” Symone replied. She smiled at both of us. “You two, um, read nicely.”
“And you take it easy running after Elizabeth everywhere. She can wear anyone out.”
“I cannot!” Elizabeth said, stamping her foot. “Now, princess party!”
Callum waved. “You two be good.”
With that, the girls left us for the bigger, cooler party back at Symone’s.
***
“I wanted to get you something special for this anniversary, luv. I know we have so many between wedding and celebrating not just Elizabeth’s birthday but the day at the hospital they said you’d pull through with the transfusion,” Callum said as he led me to the king sized bed we shared.
We’d shared a wonderful dinner of fresh French cuisine, a callback to our first date. Everything was so thoughtful from Callum, and I was lucky he was in my life. I never let a day go by where I took that for granted. I sat down on the bed and then stretched out for him.
“What did you get me?”
He pulled out a small ring box. “I know you loved your engagement ring, but I wanted something even more special, but I needed a thicker band for what I had in mind.”
Frowning, I tore into the small, brightly wrapped package as I noted the familiar turquoise labeling underneath. Pulling open the lid, I found a beautiful gold ring before me. It was a thicker band than my engagement or wedding rings and engraved on the outside with an intricate pattern of Celtic knots.
“Turn it over,” Callum said, his voice that same low purr that left my stomach flaring with warmth and my clit pulsing between my legs.
“‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’” I read aloud. The thin cursive script inside the band was tiny to fit everything, and I had to squint. “It’s Shakespeare.”
He nodded. “From A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I felt that seemed true enough about us.”
I nodded and teared up as he slid the ring onto my right ring finger. It glinted in the light, and it felt somehow as if the Celtic knots were tying me to him at an extra level, binding our souls even stronger than they already were.
“You’re everything to me, my vixen.”
“You’re everything to me too, Cal,” I echoed, the joy thick in my voice.
“Now, do you need help getting naked to, ahem, read?”
I stood and slipped out of my dress. Winking at him, I added, “I’m at five months. I’m not an invalid.”
My dress fell to the floor, and I eased myself back onto the mattress, splaying myself out for him, giving him access to all that I was. To all he owned now that he had me. Would always have me.
Callum smirked again, a look that should have been illegal the world over and that, by rights, would have Interpol knocking down his door any day. When he did that, all I could ever answer was yes.
“Now, I’m going to make love to you.”
“Fuck me into next week?” I added cheekily.
Shaking his head, he stood and slipped out of his own clothes. I enjoyed the sight before me, the gorgeous lines of his abs and the hard planes of his hips. His length jutting free just for me, promising everything that was to come, its tip glistening with precum in the lamplight.
“No,” he said once he was undressed and leaning over me in bed. “I mean what I say, and I mean make love. I love you, Iris, and I always will. I love everything about you, and I want to show you right now, worship you as the goddess you are to me.”
“I’m not a goddess, not like that.”
“You’re everything,” he said. “My wife, my luv, my vixen.”
He lined up his hips with mine. It took a bit of effort. I wasn’t huge yet, but I was carrying more weight than usual and had to aim my body for just enough access. Eventually, even with the added pregnancy gymnastics, he found everything he needed. He slid into me in one fluid motion. After so many years, I was more than accustomed to his impressive girth, but the sensation was always new. It was always different to have his member buried deep inside me.
He slid in until our hips were pressed together.
Callum looked down at me, those blue eyes that looked like clear Arctic water regarding me. And I knew now that he could truly see into my soul, that he understood me and there was nothing I could hide from him. After the scares of my first pregnancy, there was nothing I did want to hide from him.
“I love you,” he said.
No matter how many times he said it, I loved hearing it. A large part of me needed to hear it. “I love you too. Now, please, Callum. I need you.”
“I live to please, my vixen.”
He started by pumping his hips slowly. It was such torture, that languid pace that barely made me feel anything, just a few shivers that sent my clit throbbing harder but added no real satisfaction. As he pistoned his hips, I raised mine toward him. Then Callum moved his head down toward my right nipple. Capturing my nipple in his mouth, he suckled it slowly.
I moaned and dug my fingernails into his back. “Please, I need more, so much more.”
He twisted his hips in a move that teased my clit and my g-spot but failed to make me come fully. Bastard was playing with me, and he knew he was. Usually, I loved the games, but I just wanted everything to be fast, to have the reward for our anniversary night.
“Faster? Do you want me to pump right into you, luv?”
“Hard as you can,” I replied, knowing it would still be softer than our usual nights because we were trying to be safe for the baby. But the games with the teasing speed just had to end.
He nodded and kissed my lips before returning his mouth to my left nipple this time, to where he could flick his tongue fast and furious over my nipple. Callum matched that rhythm with his pounding hips, moving so fast into me as I felt the arcs of electricity spark over my skin, flare out from my core. He continued as fast as he dared, his tongue laving at my breast, my thighs wrapping as best around him as I could, the amazing pressure and heat of his cock deep inside me.
He finally hit my g-spot for real and came first, shooting his seed deep inside me, and that was enough to make me detonate. The electricity that had been arcing over my skin was now a full riot of sparks and heat, as if I’d been struck by lightning. I came for what felt like hours—the one awesome side effect of pregnancy that I could name—and then fell to the pillow. Callum slipped out of me and pulled me into his arms.
Leaning his head toward me, he kissed my temple. “So, did I pass the final test, luv?”
“There’s no test. There’s nothing to probe at, no doubts. I’ve had over five happy years with you now, more than I ever thought I could imagine. There’s nowhere you could lead that I wouldn’t follow.”
“I feel the same way.” He reached down and stroked my rounded belly one more time. “God, you’re the sexiest when you’re like this, when it’s my son in your belly.”
“What are we going to call him?”
“I am not going through the baby name debate tonight.”
“I think we should,” I purred. “After all, we’re both in a good, relaxed mood.”
“You’ll never be relaxed to a good Irish name.”
“My son is not going to be named Ewen. Just no.”
“Well, you already shot down Rupert.”
“Double no.”
“Then what can I name him? What will be UK enough but still pass muster?”
“I know,” I said. “What about George?”
“Like the first president you yanks had, gonna forget the other ones?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean like George as in Lord Byron’s real name. I mean, that’s your favorite poet, right?”
“It was hers.”
“Then let me give that to you so George can have a part of Priscilla too, a bit more of that side of his family in him.”
“I don’t know if I’m convinced that’s not a tosser’s name,” Callum said, stroking his chin with his free hand.
“Well, then there’s also St. George the Dragon Slayer.”
Callum grinned that devilish grin I loved so much on him. “Well, if our boy is a dragon slayer, then I think that’s alright. He’ll be sufficiently manly.”
I laughed and turned around in his arms. Then, reaching down, I ran my hands over his hardness, that delicious cock that was only for me. “I don’t think anyone will ever confuse any son of yours for someone who isn’t manly enough.”
He kissed me, and his tongue caressed my own. God, I loved how he managed to smell of cinnamon but taste of chocolate and brandy from tonight’s dinner and dessert. Oh, who was I kidding. I loved everything about Callum O’Brien, and I always would.
It was the same with being Mrs. O’Brien.
I couldn’t imagine my life any other way, and I didn’t want to.
“You’re quiet again,” he murmured.
“I was just thinking about what I said.”
“About? Don’t toss out another name. We’ve been debating for months, and George is actually one I like.”
“Oh, nothing like that.”
“Then?” he asked, stroking my cheek.
“I was thinking about if I hadn’t fallen through that door and made an idiot of myself with the Alka-Seltzer and the carpet.”
“I’d have found you some other way, luv.” He kissed me.
“How can you be so sure?”
“It was destiny.”
Destiny. I liked the sound of that.
THE END
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