“You say that every time. You gonna give me shit next time I pull out your mouth, babe?” He kisses my forehead.
“Probably. Gotta keep my old man on his toes.”
“Apparently didn’t fuck the sass out of you the first time. May have to do that now.” Cain thrusts his hips up. His cock is still hard inside me.
“Down, boy, we have about five minutes before Lavender is up and ready to play.” I kiss the column of his throat.
“Happy as hell to be home and see my girls. You think this one is a boy?” he asks.
“That’s entirely up to how you performed,” I tease him. There’s a joke if your woman comes before you, nine times out of ten, there’s a chance it will be a girl. If not, let’s say you made a boy.
“Then a girl it is. Gonna have to buy more guns,” he grumbles, giving me shit this time, but I know Cain well enough to know he doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. We both have so much love to give that all of our children will always know our love for them.