“Hold on to that edge,” he ordered.
I almost exploded from the excitement.
Then he began driving into me with the intensity of a drill.
The position was perfect, and sent him so deeply into me that it was almost painful. He didn’t stop until an almighty orgasm tore through me. It was like a bomb went off in my core.
Everything spun. He turned me around and pressed my back against the refrigerator, and pounded into me with the ferocity of an animal to milk out his own orgasm. Every muscle in his body was clenched.
His roar resounded around our home, and I felt the hot spurt of his semen inside of me.
I cradled his head as his hard, strong body jerked against mine.
“Willow,” he cried out, over and over again.
I could do little more than bask in the euphoria of our union. It took quite a while for things to subside, and by the time he peeled me away from the refrigerator I was too drowsy to even open my eyes.
“Sofa,” I breathed. “I can’t stand or sit.”
“We’re going to the bedroom,” he said with a laugh.
I didn’t have any complaints. Bed sounded about right. The moment he put me down we crawled under the covers, and clung to each other as we both drifted away into a light nap. There was little else that I loved more than these weekend mornings in bed with Caleb.
We were both usually too busy during the weekday mornings to enjoy each other like we got to do at night, but these weekend fuck sessions always made me feel like I was being reborn to the world of pure pleasure.
My announcement that I hadn’t been able to make yet came to mind just before I fell asleep, but I pushed it away for later on.
I was awoken a few hours later by soft but insistent taps. “Willow, Willow, Willow.”
When I opened my eyes, I saw Caleb staring down at me. There was so much love in his eyes.
“I have something to tell you,” I whispered.
“You want more sex?” he asked cheekily.
“I always want that, but it’s something else. Something very important.”
He frowned. “Yeah. What?”
“You know that plastic thing you swept off the table.”
“Yeah, the pen?”
“That’s not a pen”
He looked at me curiously. “What was it, then?”
“It’s a pregnancy test.”
He looked at me in astonishment, shock and wonder. “Yeah?”
I made little nods and looked encouragingly at him.
He swallowed, as if he dared not say it. “You’re pregnant?” he finally blurted out.
I nodded.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I did the test twice.”
He pulled away, and gently held my face in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Well, I tried to.”
“Wow! I can’t wait to have a whole bunch of little Willows running around.”
“Hey, I want a few Calebs too, you know. When you’re old and I’m old, and I break my hip, I’ll need a couple of strong, strapping lads to carry me around.”
“That’s my job,” he said possessively. “I’ll always carry you, Willow.”
I smiled softly at him. That there was the truth. He would always carry me.
His face suddenly filled with horror. “Oh God! You’re pregnant and you let me do that to you in the kitchen? My God, I was rough with you.”
“Um,” I was amused by his alarm. “Don’t you dare treat me differently because of this baby. At least until I start really showing.”
He kissed me. “I won’t.”
“I’m serious.” I pulled my lips from his.
“So am I. Don’t worry, I’ll still fuck you as hard as you want, but with caution, of course.”
“Are you worried the baby will bite your dick?”
“You do know you’re crazy, right,” he said, throwing his arms around me.
We both fell back onto the bed amidst laughter and boundless joy. We deserved it. After everything we’d been through.
Epilogue 2
Willow
Two Months Later
-now we are free-
Anna, my hair stylist was busy adding the finishing touches to my hair, and a handful of our friends and relatives were grouped in clusters doing their makeup and hair.
“Er … how did Caleb propose to you again?” Sandra asked cheekily. Ever since I told her what happened that night of the fire and exactly what Caleb had done for me, she had hugged me tightly and promised she would love Caleb almost as much as I did.
“Shut up!” I muttered as my eyes darted towards my mother.
“Didn’t he propose to you at home?” my mom asked. She turned innocently to Sandra. “Sandra, don’t you know how he proposed?”
“Oh, I know,” she said, her eyes agape with mischief. “I’m just wondering if you know, Mrs. Rayne?”
My mom lightly tapped my arm, looked from me to her, then back to me. “What is she talking about?”
“Ignore her,” I said, and gave my mischievous friend a fake glare.
Sandra just laughed. One of the bridesmaids in the corner taking selfies called and she went to see what they wanted.