"Sebastian! Put me down," she demands, kicking her feet and wriggling.
I ignore her, striding across the room to deposit her right back in the bed. Before she can fuss at me, I kiss her. Her complaints turn to little moans that have me palming my cock through my pants. Once she's suitably dazed and distracted, I back off to rest my forehead against hers.
"How's our little boy doing in there?" I ask, laying my hand on her belly.
"Bored and grumpy," she hums, swaying toward me.
I chuckle at her, rubbing her belly. I love watching her body grow and change. Keeping my hands off her is impossible, especially when she's carrying my babies. She thinks she looks terrible, but she's never more beautiful than she is when she's pregnant.
"I want to rearrange the closet in the nursery."
"I'll make you a deal," I murmur, pressing my lips to her forehead and then pulling back so I can see her face. I press my hand to her shoulder, gently pushing until she lays down. Once she's where I want her, I quickly check to make sure the kids haven't snuck in and then I slide my hand inside her shorts.
She's wet and ready, her soaked panties clinging to the lips of her pussy.
"Sebastian," she moans, arching toward me.
"If you don't pass out after I make you come, you can rearrange the closet," I murmur, sliding her panties to the side to touch her pussy. God, she's wet. Hot. Fucking perfect. I'm obsessed with this cunt and the way it feels. The way it tastes. With how tight it is and how fucking hard it makes me come.
"Please," she whimpers, her eyes glassy and her lips parted. She rocks against my hand, greedy for more.
I give it to her, thrusting two fingers inside her while I play with her clit. The combination of her quiet moans and the sounds of her wet cunt quickly drive me wild. I squeeze my cock with my free hand, trying to relieve a little of the pressure in my balls.
"Come, Paradise," I growl, curling my fingers up to rub against her G-spot.
Her pussy instantly locks down around my fingers, her back bowing off the bed. She whines my name, trembling as she comes all over my hand. I capture her lips with mine to stifle her cries as I work her through it, not stopping until the last little tremor ends and she slumps against the bed, boneless.
She stares at me with satisfaction in her eyes when I pop my fingers into my mouth to lick them clean. Somehow, pregnancy makes her sweeter. I fucking love it.
"You're so beautiful when you're coming for me, little owl," I murmur, running my hand down the side of her face. I tuck her hair behind her ear, my heart pulsing with emotion. She's so damn cute after she comes. I swear I fall a little deeper for her every time she blinks those big eyes at me, all soft and sleepy.
"Mm," she hums, nuzzling her face against my hand.
"You going to sleep on me?"
"No. I want to rearrange the closet."
"Come on then," I murmur, sweeping her up in my arms to carry her to the nursery. I can't ever tell her no. I worship the ground this woman walks on. Whatever she wants, she gets.
She cuddles up with her arms around my neck and her head against my shoulder. I carry her into the nursery and sit her down in the rocking chair. The room looks incredible. Lisa painted a tree on one wall for us, with a little family of owls playing in the branches. The furniture is white, with bright blue bedding and a plush rug. Little stuffed owls hang on the other wall, with Orion's name painted beneath.
"I can't wait until he gets here," Rowan murmurs, her voice soft. "I'm so ready to meet him."
"I know you are." I also know that's why she won't stay in the bed. She's anxious, waiting for him to get here, ready to hold him in her arms. He was due three days ago, but he's being stubborn.
I sit her in the rocking chair in the corner, sinking to my knees in front of her.
She lays her hand on the back of my head, weaving her fingers through my hair.
"You gotta come out soon, little man," I murmur, pressing my lips to her belly. "You're making your mama nervous."
He kicks me, which I assume is unborn baby speak for mind my business. He's comfortable in there, not wanting to leave. I don't blame him. She's perfect.
"He's been really active all day," she says, laughing when he kicks me again. "He's like a little acrobat in there."
"He'll be here soon, little owl." I kiss her belly and then rise to my feet. "I'm going to check on the kids and start dinner. Work your magic in the closet so I can take you downstairs and feed you."
"Can we have chicken nuggets? Oh! And those little pieces of cheese." She bites her lip. "And chocolate cake?"
I chuckle, shaking my head. She always craves chicken nuggets and chocolate cake when she's pregnant. I make sure we keep both on hand. It's not easy to run out to the store in the middle of the night when you've got three kids and a pregnant wife.
"Yeah, baby. I'll make you chicken nuggets."
She beams at me. "You're my favorite everything."
"You're my favorite everything too." I help her to her feet and then stand and watch her as she starts going through the closet, rearranging the clothes hanging inside. She hums while she does it, happy as a clam.
God, I adore her.
"I'll be back to check on you soon."
I head out of the nursery and jog down the stairs to check on the kids. Nalani and Dash are laying in the floor of the playroom, watching Dora on the tablet. She and Elysia are still dressed in their little leotards and tutus with their hair in baby buns. Elysia is spinning in circles in the middle of the room, singing her ABCs. She knows all of them, but still mixes up which one goes where. Rowan calls it her remix.
"Daddy!" she yells when she sees me. She stops spinning and almost tumbles over.
"Careful, baby girl." I rush forward and scoop her up into my arms before she falls.
She just laughs and pats me on the cheek. "Hi hi."
"Hi hi, baby girl."
I love how excited she always is to see me. Every time I walk into the room, she lights up like she hasn't seen me in days. It makes me feel like the world's best dad.
"My hungry," Nalani informs me, tipping her head all the way back to look at me with big, dramatic eyes. She's always a little quieter than Elysia. She's also more emphatic. She says exactly what she means and that's that.
"Is Mommy sweeping?" Elysia asks me.