If you’d asked me nine months ago, on my last leave, whether I thought I’d ever have a wife and a family, I wouldn’t even have hesitated. Hell no—the odds of finding a woman who could deal with my lifestyle, who didn’t mind moving wherever the Army wanted us, and who could quote all my favorite books on top of that… slim to none.

And yet here she is, standing in the modest kitchen in our rental house near the Army Garrison in Vincenza, the morning sunlight streaming through the window and bringing out strands of copper hidden in her dark hair.

She’s fucking stunning, even doing something so mundane as filling up the coffee pot, and lately it’s been a real struggle just to leave the house and actually go do some work.

Nora is nine months pregnant, her belly big and round with not one but two babies, and she looks like she’s smuggling a watermelon beneath her sundress. I think it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her, but trust me, I only ever made one comment about the size of her belly before I learned my lesson.

That was the day I also learned that Nora has a hell of a right hook… although it ended in more of a playful swat than an actual slug.

Still, message received.

For the last nine months, I’ve been pampering my new wife and the twins growing inside her in every way I can think of. All the back and foot rubs Nora can handle. Gelato, pasta, cannoli—the best foods that Italy has to offer. And, of course, books.

There’s a little indie bookshop between our house and the base and I stop in frequently after work to see what’s new. We’ve got quite a little library at home now, for Nora and me as well as for our little ones. Our kids are going to grow up loving books just as much as their mother and father, and I can’t wait to watch Nora do storytime for our own little ones.

“Is today a jam or a Nutella day?” I ask, reaching for the cupboard.

“Mm,” Nora hums, thinking it over. “Nutella, definitely.”

I laugh and bring the jar down, as well as a couple of cornetti—sweet, flaky croissants that we’ve both become obsessed with since Nora joined me here. Honestly, most days are Nutella days, though Nora swears up and down it’s the twins making the decision, not her.

I cut our pastries and load them up with plenty of hazelnut spread, and Nora hands me a cup of coffee just how I like it, just a dash of cream and piping hot.

Right at this minute, though, I have no interest in the coffee. I set the cup down on the counter and pin her up against it, saying, “God damn, you are beautiful.”

I tuck a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and I can smell the summer sun on her skin as I lean in for a kiss.

“I love you so much,” she murmurs against my mouth, and suddenly I’m not the only one who’s forgotten all about breakfast. Her hand snakes down the front of my Army fatigues, finding my cock already rock hard for her.

“I love you more than anything,” I tell her, and then I sweep the cornetti out of the way and lift her onto the countertop right then and there. I nudge her knees apart, my hips going between her thighs, my cock aching to touch her sweet, hot core.

She laughs and says, “Nash, I’m enormous. I don’t think I can.”

“I do,” I say, giving her a little growl as I glide one hand up the inside of her thigh, underneath the thin fabric of her dress. My fingers slip beneath her panties and into her wetness, and my cock gets harder still. “I think you want to.”

Nora smiles at me, coy and teasing, and grips my cock through my fatigues. “Do you have time?”

I’m supposed to be reporting for duty on the base in about half an hour, but I can’t say no to my sexy, curvy, incredibly pregnant little librarian. “I’ll drive instead of walk to work today. Plenty of time to make my wife happy before I go.”

My fingers push into her and she lets out a gasp, then all her protests melt away. “Okay, if you insist.”

I laugh. “Yes, I do.”

I drop down to my knees and throw the hem of Nora’s dress over my head. She laughs and squirms on the counter as I drag her wet panties down her legs, then bury my face between her thighs. She tastes so sweet, I could stay here all day.

“Oh, Nash,” she groans, both hands on my head, guiding me even though I know just how she likes it.

I lick and suck on the firm little bud of her clit, two fingers inside her, finger-fucking her slowly but firmly. My other hand goes to the button on my pants, and in a few quick motions, I’ve got my cock in my fist, stroking myself in time with my tongue on my gorgeous wife’s pussy.


Tags: Frankie Love Romance