C is for Carter - Page 66

Eventually, I rolled to my back, and she mounted me, her breasts hanging over my face as she rode me. I filled my hands with her ass and clasped my lips over a nipple as she cried out and her legs trembled. She was roiling through climax after climax, and her pussy tightened as it pulsed with each one. I was nearing one of my own, and I rolled her over again to her back.

She curled up, and I placed one hand behind her head as our foreheads rested on one another and my hips slammed into her. She gritted her teeth in a mirror of my own expression as sweat poured down my face. Her breasts bounced with each time my cock buried deep inside her, and I knew I was about to come.

Our lips crushed into one another, and I pulled back, grasping her hips with both hands and slamming her into me as the feeling overcame me, and I exploded. I emptied myself into her as she clutched my arms with her fingers, and her thighs vibrated, and her toes curled as they dug into my shins. We came together in one massive orgasm, and then I collapsed beside her. Her soft, tight pussy milked me until I was dry, and then she curled her head into the crook of my neck, and we panted for breath.

“I love you,” I said as I kissed the top of her head.

“I love you too,” she said. “Forever.”

“Forever,” I repeated. “Forever.”

EPILOGUE

LAUREN

I was nothing short of shocked when I found out I was pregnant. And as it turned out, that wasn’t the end of our surprises. It seemed our little boy was determined to keep us on our toes, even before he was born, including having us scrambling to the hospital several times for false alarms in the weeks before he was due.

I’d had so many Braxton-Hicks contractions, mistaken labor pains, and even thinking my water had broken a couple of times that by the time I was actually in labor, I was hesitant to believe it.

A tremendous craving for pineapple pizza sent Carter into town late at night, and I was still working my way through the slices at midnight. He was dozing in the recliner beside where I was sitting on the couch when I felt the first clench through my belly. I’d been dealing with some tightening and little twinges throughout the day, so I didn’t pay it too much mind. I ate another two slices, brushed my teeth, and stretched out to watch TV.

I hadn’t been sleeping well and found the sofa far more comfortable than our bed, so we’d been spending a good portion of every night out in the living room. Less than an hour after finishing up my pizza, the stomach pains really started up. I told myself it was just too much pizza and stayed in place. Half an hour later, the pain was getting strong enough for me to head to the bathtub.

That was where Carter found me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m having pains in my stomach and back,” I told him. “I thought I’d take a bath to relax.”

“Pains in your stomach and back?”

“Yeah. They keep getting stronger, and I can’t really get comfortable.”

“Lauren, could you be in labor?”

“I just went to the doctor today,” I said. “He said nothing was happening, and he didn’t expect anything for another few days at least.”

“I don’t think that really matters,” Carter said. “I think the baby gets to decide that.”

Another wave of pain hit me, and I realized I’d been ignoring real contractions this whole time. My son had managed to trick me enough times that I didn’t even think about the possibility of it being real this time.

A tense drive to the hospital and eight hours of intense labor later, our baby boy, Carson, came into the world. Once he was out, I thought it would be smooth sailing from there, but he wasn’t done making things hard on his mama and papa. Within seconds of his birth, he started turning purple and needed to have oxygen. The doctor said it wasn’t anything serious or unusual, but it scared me enough that I couldn’t even begin to rest. I needed to be watching him.

For the rest of the day, I held and stared at him. He cried and fussed, making all his complaints about the world well known to anyone who would listen. I didn’t mind. Hearing him crying meant he was alright. It meant he was strong enough to make the noise. I would much rather have heard him crying and screaming than having to worry about him not breathing again.

Carson struggled to latch on for his first couple of days, which meant he wasn’t getting enough milk with each feeding and cried to eat every twenty minutes. The doctor reassured me it would be alright, that he would get used to it, and I just kept trying.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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