I'd risk a few germs for Sadie and the gift she gave me in the form of viewing her body in all its perfection, working herself for my benefit alone. Her leg stretched up to her head, putting everything on display, and then she grabbed the pole and pulled herself back up. Moving into more pole work, while I watched the rest of the show with bated breath and twitchy hands, until the lights and music faded out with her clinging to the pole and sliding down.
Eventually stepping out of the smoke, she came down the stairs and approached me on the lounge. Her hips continued to sway, even as she smiled with that secretive look I knew was for me alone.
She stood in front of me, leaning forward to drape herself over my torso. Her hair fell around us, secluding us in our own little world where nothing else existed. "Hello, Lorenzo," she purred, running a hand over my chest and reaching for my fly.
"Hi, Baby Girl," I murmured, lifting a hand to touch her cheek and tug her down to kiss me. Her soft, pliant lips parted for me, letting me in and kissing me to the beat of the song that started over in the background on repeat. "I missed you," I said.
"I missed you too," she sighed, smiling happily. With my fly undone, she straightened.
"Is this what you've been so busy doing in here?" I asked, raising a brow. She'd been locking her personal security outside the club twice a week, emerging sweaty and exhausted with Natalie an hour later. If I'd had less faith in my wife's fondness for my cock, I might have wondered if she'd discovered she was bisexual.
"I thought I should have the chance to dance for you before I swelled up," she said, guiding my hands to her stomach. My body stilled, studying the strategic placement of the hands in time with her words.
"What do you mean swell up?" I asked, needing the confirmation. We'd decided to wait until after the war to start our family. Chosen to put a pause on new life until we knew we'd have one of our own.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered with that secretive smile. "Barely, but I took a test a week ago."
"And you didn't tell me?" I asked, glaring at her as I stroked my fingers over her stomach. "You shouldn't have been working yourself to the brink of exhaustion to put on a strip show, Baby Girl. You should be resting."
"I'm pregnant. Not on my deathbed," she laughed, reaching for my hand and guiding it down over her pussy to reach between her thighs. My fingers found the snaps there, flipping them open as she shoved my hands out of the way and climbed into my lap. Reaching between our bodies to pull me free through my open fly, she notched me against her and slid down to take me to the hilt on a slow glide.
She tightened around me, tossing her head back and placing her hands at my shoulders. "I can do more than just lie in bed and wait nine months to pop out a baby, Enzo." She lifted herself off my length, dropping back down and setting a slow, torturous rhythm that drew a groan from my throat.
No longer interested in debating her health during her pregnancy, I brought my hands down to her hips and urged her to move faster. "Uh uh," she teased, leaning forward to bite my lip and roll her hips over me at a new angle. "I'm in charge tonight." Her hands took mine off her hips, pinning them against the lounge next to my head and rolling her body over me so I slid in and out of her tight heat with each pulse of her body. Her breasts hung in my face, tempting and teasing me to touch and take.
With no ability to touch her, my patience wore thin more quickly than normal.
"No fair," she laughed as I rolled her to the side. Laying her out on her back in the lounge, I grabbed her behind the knee and shoved it high. Leaving her pussy on display for me as I filled her with my cock, she threw her head back on a moan.
"You're probably touching bodily fluids," I pointed out with a chuckle.
"Please," she scoffed. "I disinfected the entire room before I called you in."
Laughter broke free from my chest as I buried my face in her neck and pounded myself inside her so hard that she forgot her sass for a few minutes.
That she forgot everything but me long enough to chase her own orgasm. Her left hand stretched up to grab mine, our matching wedding band tattoos stark against our skin in black ink. Her unique onyx wedding rings hung from a chain at her neck, always with her, even during the times when she couldn't wear them on her fingers.
Sliding my other hand underneath her left shoulder to hold her steady as I increased the force of my thrusts, my fingers brushed over the small round scar.
The sign of her bravery. Of her selflessness for those she loved.
I flooded her with my heat, sending her tumbling into her own orgasm in turn. She cried out my name as I groaned, stilling my body above hers as we caught our breath.
"Love you, Lorenzo," she murmured.
Six months later, and it still filled me with complete fullness to hear her form the words that had been hard fought to earn. We weren’t perfect. We had jagged little edges that cut each other sometimes. Her insecurities. My sleeping habits.
But they were getting better slowly. I went to bed with her in my arms every night. I woke up with her in my arms every morning. Sometimes, I woke up on the floor, after she handed my monster his ass.
She was mine. I was hers.
Ride or die.
And nobody would ever change
