from Take Me to Paradise
© 2014 by Olivia Cunning
Only one thing could top being woken by a skilled lover expertly sucking his cock: knowing—without even opening his eyes—that his wakeup call was being delivered by his sensational wife.
“Well, good morning to you too,” Brian said, lifting his head from the pillow to watch her work her magic.
Myrna smiled a greeting with her pretty hazel eyes since her mouth was otherwise occupied. She took him deep into the back of her throat and increased the strength of her suction as she pulled back.
His belly tightened in an involuntary spasm of delight, and he dropped his head back on the pillow, wondering what he’d done to deserve this phenomenal alarm clock.
Myrna bobbed her head until Brian was so hard he could have used his dick to carve marble, and then she pulled back until he popped out of her mouth. He watched her in silent awe as she crawled up his body to straddle his hips.
“My temperature is optimal,” she explained, reaching between her legs to press his cockhead into her slick opening. His flesh throbbed with pleasure as her tight pussy swallowed him inch by glorious inch.
Myrna wanted a baby almost as much as he did, and though they’d been trying for months, they hadn’t found success. She had recently resorted to taking her temperature near the middle of her cycle, hoping to find her fertile time. She’d switched from a romantic approach to a more scientific one when fucking like rabbits any time they were in the same room together hadn’t done the trick.
“I should be on top,” he said, “so gravity isn’t working against us.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, blinking against the sudden flood of tears in her eyes.
He sat up and wrapped both arms around her. “Don’t cry, baby. It will happen.”
She clung to him as if afraid he was about to desert her again. He knew half of their problem was that his tour schedule with Sinners kept them apart most of the time.
“How can it happen when you’re always on the road?” she said and snuggled her face into his neck.
“I’m not on the road now,” he said.
“Only because the tour bus was ripped in two.”
“Maybe your ovaries planned it that way,” he said and rolled her onto her back. He was hoping to bring a smile to her face, but she just scowled at him.
“Don’t joke about the crash. That was the most terrifying experience of my life.”
She’d done well at hiding her fear until they’d been alone together and she’d completely fallen apart. He’d loved how she’d needed his strength to help her come to terms with the accident that had nearly taken their lives, but he didn’t love that it always took a life-threatening crisis for her to show any weakness.
He kissed her deeply and began to rock his hips, willing memories of that horrible experience to leave her mind and his. When she relaxed beneath him and began to explore his back with gentle fingertips, he churned his hips to give her more pleasure. He knew he could give her pleasure, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever give her the baby she wanted so badly. He was starting to think there was something wrong with his potency, which made him want to make a baby even more. To prove that what he kept in his pants wasn’t just for show. That it could get the job done properly.
Myrna moaned softly, grinding against him as her excitement built. He lifted onto his elbows so he could watch her as he thrust into her, pulled back, and then plunged into her again. He would never tire of looking at her face or its countless expressions—her joy, her anxiety, her passion. Her fear and sorrow. Her anger and tenderness and wonder and love. He cherished every nuance of her beautiful face and doubted he’d ever grow tired of watching her—not even when they were both old and wrinkled like a pair of enamored raisins.
“I love you,” he whispered when the emotion became too raw to hold inside.
She smiled up at him and lifted a hand to touch his beard-stubbled jaw. “I love you too Brian.”
They deserved to have the ultimate expression of their love. They deserved to have a baby. So why was making one so fucking difficult for them?
He made love to her slowly, filling her deeply, waiting for her to find her peak. He followed her in orgasm, planting himself firmly against the entrance of her womb as he found release inside her. He withdrew slowly, trying not to disrupt what he’d left behind, and then rested his head on her chest as he slowly regained his breath. She ran her fingers through his hair while he prayed that they’d made it happen this time. Please God, let her be happy. Let her have a baby. My baby. Please.
“Let’s go away somewhere,” she said after a moment. “Just the two of us. We never got to have a real honeymoon after our wedding, and Jerry said it will be awhile before you’re able to get back on tour. Plus, my leave of absence from work extends for another full week.”
Going on a honeymoon sounded like a great idea to him. While spending time with Myrna in Kansas City was wonderful, it would be spectacular to get away from everything for a while. Maybe staying in the apartment where her creep of an ex-husband had shown up and made her feel unsafe was stressing Myrna out. His mom had told him that women sometimes had a hard time conceiving when they were stressed. She’d also told him that older women often struggled to get pregnant, but he’d immediately dismissed that reason. And he had not told Myrna that he’d been worried enough to call his mom for advice. His mother wasn’t on Myrna’s list of favorite people. Especially after his mom blamed Myrna for not getting to attend her own son’s wedding and was unabashedly vocal about her disapproval of his and Myrna’s age difference. It wasn’t as if seven years was eons. And he loved Myrna. Adored her. He was euphorically overjoyed to have Myrna as his wife. Shouldn’t that be what his mother cared about? Not their age difference, but their happiness together? He often didn’t understand how his mother’s mind worked.
“Where would you like to go?” Brian asked.
“I’ll go anywhere,” Myrna said, “as long as I’m with you.”
His heart warmed. He loved the rare occasions when she said romantic things to him.
She crinkled her pert nose, and he knew her atom-thin romantic streak had already vanished. “Except Canada,” she said. “Canada doesn’t seem to like me much.”
The bus accident had occurred in Canada, and they both knew the crash had nothing to do with a place liking anyone, but he understood her hesitation to return there so soon after tragedy had struck the family of their little metal band.
“I’ll call a travel agent and see what’s available in a hurry,” he said. “Are you hungry?” He lowered his head and kissed her flat belly. He wondered what she’d look like with his baby growing inside her. He was positive that it would be the most beautiful sight he’d ever see.
“A little. Are you?”
“Starving,” he said.
“I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
He pressed her firmly into the mattress. “You stay here and incubate,” he said. “I’ll bring you something.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, her eyes growing moist again.
Damn, she was emotional while trying to get pregnant. He couldn’t even imagine how emotional she’d be once she actually conceived. He wouldn’t mind, though. He was more than happy to make midnight runs for pickles and ice cream to keep a smile on her face. He’d do anything to make her happy.
“No problem,” he said and kissed her pouty pink lips. “It’s the least I can do after that wonderful wake-up you gifted me with this morning.”
“When my ovaries say it’s time, it’s time,” she said with a laugh.
“We have at least twelve more hours to take advantage of their cooperation,” he said.
“Better make that breakfast a quick one.” She patted his ass. “I’m ready for you to take advantage of me again.”