“Hurry,” he said roughly against my neck, his tongue snaking out to run along the length of my throat.
My hands clenched in his hair and I started to squeeze my thighs around his trim waist to help slam myself even harder down.
Then, like a tsunami to my soul, my orgasm rolled over me, pulling Nikolai under with me.
He growled and latched onto my neck with his teeth, holding me in place while he pumped me so full of his release that I could already feel it leaking out of me.
Long seconds passed as we stayed tangled together, our breathing returning to normal.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said against my neck.
I clenched around him, causing a growl to erupt from his throat.
“You guys!” Blythe said from outside of our bedroom door. “I want to meet my babies! Stop fucking or I’ll chop y’alls’ privates off!”
Chuckling, he pulled out of me, and I immediately waddled to the toilet to ensure no leakage got onto the carpet.
“You’re so messy,” I muttered to myself, grabbing a wash rag from the top shelf in the closet and wetting it down.
I looked up and saw the hot pink box of my tampons directly in front of me, and I froze.
“Son. Of. A. Bitch.”EpilogueMy life is a blonde moment.
-Nikolai’s secret thoughts
Nikolai
I looked over at my mate warily.
Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
One second she’d been happy, and when she came out of the bathroom, she was anything but.
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” I asked her.
She glared at me, and I sighed, turning my gaze back to the hallway we were walking down.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Blythe asked me.
I nodded.
“I hacked into the news feed of the hospital before we left,” I said. “Checked everything out. The NICU is right off the first floor.”
And low and behold, it fucking was!
We rounded the corner just as the doors opened and a man with light brown skin, and a woman with fiery red hair came out, two car seats clutched in their arms.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the woman said excitedly. “I just can’t believe it.”
The man nodded, his eyes wide and scared as he walked past us.
“It’s been four months, Amy. I don’t think I’ll know what to do with myself on my lunchbreaks anymore,” he said as he pressed the elevator doors.
I looked over at my mate and smiled.
“It was worth it,” she said softly.
I nodded.
It was.
If I had to do that once a week, it’d be worth it to see the excited smile on the faces of the parents that got to take their kids home when they never thought it’d be possible for them.
“I’m sorry,” a woman in pink scrubs with small feet prints all over them said. “We’re only allowed to have parents in here.”
Blythe raised her hands. “I’m a parent.”
Her eyes zeroed in on Blythe, taking in her hair and clothes, then she smiled.
“I’ll bet you’re the one with the hunk-a-licious man, aren’t you?” she asked.
Blythe nodded, her face blushing slightly.
“Yes,” she said. “Keifer is definitely that.”
The woman nodded and took her hand.
“You can all come,” she said. “Normally, we’d never be able to do this. The NICU is a very special place where the littlest of our people come to get better. Any germs could be fatal to our babies.” She took a breath. “But today, every one of them is going home. On Christmas, at that.”
Blythe slowly started to cry, and I reached for her shoulders, looping my arm around her on one side, and pulling Brooklyn in on the other.
“He looks good like that, doesn’t he?” Blythe whispered.
I looked at my brother.
He was sitting in a rocking chair, shirtless, with both of the babies on his chest.
His eyes were closed, but the instant the words left Blythe’s lips, his eyes snapped open, and locked on Blythe’s.
“Shit,” Brooklyn said. “I always feel like I’m intruding on them when they get like this.”
I laughed and walked forward, pulling Blythe who couldn’t seem to make her feet work.
Blythe’s watery smile took over her face once we were close enough to touch.
“Oh,” she breathed, bringing her hand up, but stopping just short of touching either baby. “Shoot,” she said, pulling her hand back and turning to find the anti-bacterial dispenser on the wall.
Once she was lathered up to her arm pits, she shot both of us a glare, then went back to her babies.
Brooklyn laughed, and I took the chance to pin her to the wall as we both sanitized our hands.
“You’re not telling me something,” I said softly, eyes inches from hers.
She bit her lip.
“I’m…” she whispered. “Late.”
“Late?” I asked. “Late for what?”
She just kept staring, and it was then that the realization suddenly dawned.
“You’re on birth control,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
She nodded.
“I am,” she confirmed.
“Well, stop taking it!” I ordered her.