A laugh bubbled up, and I went back to pulling her jeans completely off. She was right, we’d conceived both of our babies in our office. But that wouldn’t change my mind about separate offices. “I’ll be better about letting you work,” I vowed. “But we’re not going to have separate offices.” My tone was firm as I refused to be swayed on this topic.
“That’s—um—that’s what you al—always say,” she stumbled as I began to kiss my way up her leg. “And somehow—oh!”—my tongue had reached her pussy, and I circled her clit a few times—“somehow, I end up spending more time on—uh, yessss…”—I speared my tongue into her channel—“on, um, this couch than at my desk. Holy cow!” I threw her legs over my shoulders, then grabbed her ass to keep her steady—my tongue never letting up its assault—as I carefully got to my feet and navigated over to her desk.
Once there, I dropped to my knees again and set her ass on the smooth wooden top. Then I added my fingers to the mix and quickly pushed Ariel over the edge. When her spasms began to ebb, I gave her a quick kiss on each thigh before surging to my feet. I had my big cock out and plunging into her heat in record time.
“Fuck, baby,” I gritted out. “Always so damn tight.” I put my hand flat between her tits and pressed her backwards until she was laid out on the desk. I’d removed her T-shirt but hadn’t gotten to her bra. Her tits were already beginning to swell from the pregnancy, and they quivered as they practically spilled from the delicate, red lace.
I pulled and plucked the tight buds on top and she moaned, her muscles tightening around me. My hips pumped in hard, deep thrusts and after a couple of minutes, the desk began to shift with each one. We were both spiraling high, on the precipice of ecstasy and as her desk crashed into mine, we both flew apart. The bang of the furniture meeting helped to drown out my roar of completion as I emptied myself inside my wife’s hot, little pussy.
After I had spent every fucking drop and was practically boneless, I laid over her with my head resting in the valley between her tits, her hands lazily running through my hair. “See?” I panted. “I can be good. You’ve spent more time at your desk than the couch today.”
Ariel giggled and tugged on my hair playfully. “I think you did more work at my desk than I did.”
I lifted my head, resting on my chin as I looked up at her and grinned. “How about next time we grab some frosting, and I’ll let you work on me?” Ariel licked her lips, and my cock flexed inside her, making me groan.
A knock broke the heady atmosphere and reminded us that we weren’t as alone as we felt. “Go away,” I growled loudly. “We’re busy working!”
“Working? If that’s work, you’re doing it wrong,” Belle snorted from the other side of the door. Another deep voice rumbled something, and I assumed it was Griffith. “What? I’m just saying,” she replied innocently to whatever he’d said.
I sighed and pulled out of my wife’s warmth but smiled widely when I heard the high-pitched squeal of my baby girl. Ariel and I dressed quickly, then once I was satisfied that she was covered up, with the exception of her panties in my pocket, I opened the door.
Ariel rushed out and scooped Faith out of Belle’s arms and started cooing lovingly. She acted as though they’d been apart for months, and it was cute as hell. As I watched them, and pictured our life in seven months when we’d have another little one, I would double dog dare anyone to find a more perfect life than ours.
Extra Epilogue Ariel
Eavesdropping on my hubby when he was doing stuff with our girls was one of my favorite pastimes. I loved listening to my favorite people in the world as they interacted with each other. It always made me all gooey inside over how sweet my big guy was with his baby girls. Especially when he was doing something adorable—like letting our oldest daughter boss him around while they baked the Madeleines I’d taught him to make years ago. Pressing my back against the wall of the mudroom leading to our kitchen, I bit my lip to stop a giggle from bubbling out.
“You’re not doing it right, Daddy.” Faith heaved an exaggerated sigh, and then the stand mixer whirred back to life. “You have to beat the eggs and sugar for two more minutes or else they won’t have enough air whipped in them.”
After all of the baking lessons I’d given Maddox throughout the years—it took lots of attempts because we tended to rip our clothes off whenever we were alone together—he was well-versed in how to make my favorite little butter cakes. But he had no problem acting as though he didn’t know what he was doing since Faith enjoyed bossing him around so much. “It’s a good thing you’re helping me make these. My surprise for your mom would’ve been ruined without you.”
“Silly daddy,” Hope giggled. “Mommy won’t care how good they taste if we’re the ones who made them for her.”
“Because she loves us this much.” I closed my eyes, easily picturing Maddox spreading his arms wide like he always did when he said that.
“But we can still make them the right way,” Faith insisted.
She reminded me of her daddy when she got super stubborn and bossy. I slapped my hand over my mouth but was too late to quiet my laughter. The mixer turned off, and my sexy husband’s arms wrapped around me. He claimed my lips in a brief but hard kiss before calling out, “We’re in luck, girls!
