Megan Hart: An Erotic Collection Volume 2

“Babies change people, Elle.”

“Uh-huh.” I swirled some ice in my plastic cup.

I watched my mother stare into the face of the sleeping child. Had she ever looked at me that way? Yes, I thought. Long ago, she had. No matter what had come between us, and it had been a lot of very awful things, she had looked at me like that. My mother had loved me.

“You ready to get out of here?” Dan stood and gathered up the garbage.

I was. As much as I loved my brother, the cacophony of the party had given me a headache. I hugged and kissed him and Luke goodbye. We said nothing about my mother with our voices, but our eyes said enough.

When I went to kiss my niece goodbye, she barely stirred.

“She’s worn out.” My mother stroked the soft black curls. “Too much party for a little girl.”

“We’re leaving, Mom.”

She looked up at me. Her face was softer than I’d ever seen it. “Your brother will drive me home. You go on ahead.”

“You’re sure?”

* * *

She looked again at Leah, whose small pink lips had pursed in sleep. “I can’t wake this baby, can I?”

It would have been too weird to hug or kiss her goodbye, so I didn’t. I left her holding the grandchild she’d been so sure she couldn’t love. In the car, I let out a laugh.

“Strange, strange, strange,” I said.

“You knew she’d be okay, Elle.” Dan had more faith in me than I had in myself, but that was only one of the many reasons I loved him.

At home, I groaned when he came up behind me to slip his arms around my waist as I stood in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom. “I’m going to explode.”

He rubbed the taut curve of my too-full belly. “I can help you work it off.”

“Oh, sure. Just roll me onto the bed like that girl from the Willy Wonka movie.”

“Veruca Salt?”

I laughed. “No. The one who ate the pill that turned her into a blueberry.”

Dan turned me sideways to look at us both in the mirror. “You’re not blue.”

“But I am round. God, why did I eat so much?”

“You were making sure you had enough sustenance to get you through the night?” He waggled his brows.

I rolled my eyes. “Riiiiight.”

His hands, though, were working their usual magic. He moved them up and down my sides, over my hips. Over my belly, which most definitely could benefit from a few hundred sit-ups. Between my legs.

“I like you curvier.” Dan’s fingers played along my inner thigh and a little higher.

“You haven’t ever known me as anything but curvy!” The light, tantalizing touch forced my voice into a seductive breathiness. “You have no basis of comparison.”

“You’ve been thinner.” Dan’s other hand ran up my side to cup my breast. “When I met you. Just before we got married. Last year when you were deciding whether or not to quit your job.”

My feminine sensibility demanded I be affronted, even though I knew he was right. “Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

Dan pulled me closer, so our naked bodies touched. He looked deep into my eyes. “I like you better with a few extra pounds on you. It’s not bullshit.”

I was only slightly mollified. “Why on earth do you like me better when I’m fatter?”

“Curvier,” he corrected. He dipped his head to kiss the swell of my breasts, then to suckle each nipple.

My breath quickened. His hand moved between my legs, finding my heat and slickness. He suckled a little harder, and my pulse skipped in all my secret places.

Dan kissed his way up to my shoulder, then my neck, then at last to my mouth. His cock got hard between us. Even with a few extra pounds on my belly I had no trouble feeling that. When he pulled me toward the bed, I didn’t protest.

We lay on soft, smooth sheets that warmed quickly beneath us. He kissed me endlessly while his hand moved between my legs. He dipped a finger inside me and drew it up to slide along my clitoris. He knew just how to touch me, over and over, until I went boneless under him.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he told me. He had a knack for knowing just what I wanted without me ever having to say it.

I did, and clutched the pillow as he moved behind me. Dan stroked his cock along the edge of my cunt, wetting himself before he pushed inside me. He did it slowly, half an inch at a time, until I pushed back to force him inside me all the way.

We both moaned. His hands gripped my hips. I imagined how I must look in front of him, how the line and knobs of my spine would stand out as my back curved. I buried my face in the pillow and lifted my ass in the air, changing the angle so he could go deeper.

Dan went deeper. There were times when I felt he’d never fill me entirely, times when I counted my empty spaces and knew they’d always stay that way. There were times when this mattered to me, very much, and times I secretly despaired…but there were more times like this, when those small and secret empty places became insignificant.

He stroked deep inside me, and I opened my body to take him all the way. His thrusts got faster. He leaned forward, the heat of him all along my back, and reached around to press his hand to my clit.

I was close enough that he didn’t need to do much stroking. The force of each thrust moved my body against his hand. Pleasure built bit by bit as he fucked into me. It lasted forever.

Sometimes I came fast and hard, but now I rode on waves of slow, steady climax. My orgasm built, receded and built again. My body tightened as we moved together, as Dan thrust faster. Heat flooded me and I bit down on the pillow to hold back my cries.

Our bodies slapped. I was so wet I felt slick heat sliding down my thighs. I breathed in the soft scent of fabric softener and the linen spray I used on the pillows; when I turned my head the heavy, familiar musk aroma of our fucking surrounded and overwhelmed me. I gulped in air saturated with our lovemaking. I wanted to drink it, eat it. I wanted to survive solely on the touch and taste and smell of the man behind me, and the pleasure sending me whirling into mindlessness.

“Count them.” Dan’s voice, thick with desire, trailed off into a groan. “Count them for me.”

My longtime habit of counting in my head had diminished over the months we’d been married, but when he told me to now, I didn’t hesitate. “One,” I gasped as my first orgasm burst over me. “Two,” I groaned a minute later as the second burst inside me.

And later, not much later, “Three!”

Three was the most I could manage. I shuddered with the last climax. My fingers dug furrows in the sheets. Dan thrust once more inside me and came with a shout that made me smile.

He paused for a minute before moving in and out of me a couple more times, then withdrew and collapsed beside me on the bed. A gush of hot fluid surged down my thighs, and I let out a cry as I clamped my legs together.

He laughed. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t, but I didn’t care. “Feh. Hazards of the sport.”

I rolled onto my back, making sure to position myself on his side of the bed with a grin he didn’t notice at first. When he did, he rolled onto his side to put his hand on my belly. He nuzzled into my shoulder.

“You’re going to make me sleep on the wet spot?”

“Absolutely,” I said with a sigh of utter satisfaction. Already my eyes were trying to flutter closed, and I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand.

Dan snorted softly. “Nice.”

His hand made hypnotic circles on my stomach. I would have to get up in a minute to use the bathroom, to brush my teeth. Take a shower. But for now it was too nice, lying here with him, for me to move.

I put my hand over his to stop it from moving. I thought about Marcy, the swell of her giant belly in front of her like something belonging to another person. It was another person. She’d complained vociferously about getting fat, but I’d never really believed she meant it. She’d always said it with a hint of smug satisfaction, her hands on the mound of her stomach, holding it as though it were a prize.