Lips around her clit had her waking up with a bang. Bernadette’s thighs clamped around Tyson’s head as he worked her over like the pro he was where she was concerned. His fingers speared into her core, filling her to full as he taunted her clit by sucking it hard, then fluttering his tongue over the nub.
She let out a high-pitched moan as he began to thrust his fingers into her, fucking her as he teased her clit.
Within seconds, she shot over into the stratosphere, and before she had time to do more than pant, he was there. Covering her. His cock sliding home, and his weight covering her like a blanket.
“Good morning, Mrs Andrews,” he whispered against her lips, a roguish glint in his eye as she stared dazedly up at him.
As always, he was too fucking gorgeous for his own, and her, good. His hair was tousled from her hands, and his lips were shiny with her juices.
She reached up and traced her tongue over his mouth, catching up the taste of her, knowing he loved it when she did that.
He groaned, dropped his forehead to hers, and muttered, “You drive me insane.”
“It’s all in my job description, Mr Andrews. And, I should add ‘thrusting’ to yours. As in, do it. Now.”
He laughed, and she felt the vibration rush through her body. God, he made her feel alive sometimes. So alive, she knew her old life had been more of a half-life.
His hips arched, then slowly, he penetrated her, taking her all the way to the hilt. She moaned, her teeth clamping down on his shoulder as she held him to her, not letting him go as he began to fuck her.
Slow, rhythmic thrusts at first, until they were both taken by the madness and he began to rock his hips in swift jerks that drove them both over the edge.
She cried out, teeth releasing his shoulder as her head flew back against the pillow. Her back arched, nearly toppling him off her, and she groaned as he let out short, deep grunts that spoke of his own release.
As they lay there panting in the aftermath, she whispered, “What was that for?”
He snorted, his head pressed into the pillow beside her-face down. “How else should I wake up my wife of three weeks?”
A chuckle escaped her. “True. Think we should start every anniversary like this?”
He grinned and she felt his cheek dimple against her jaw. “I think that can be arranged.”
She wriggled underneath him.
“Want me to move?”
“No. I’m just getting comfy.”
He grunted. “I should move.”
“Why?”
“It’s not good for the baby.”
She tensed. “Huh?”
“The baby. My weight can’t be good for it. I must be squashing him.”
“It could be a her,” Bernadette whispered faintly, still astonished by his words. She blinked again, still trying to figure out if she’d heard right, then when he chuckled, she realized he’d done it on purpose.
She hit him on the back. “You jerk! You knew all along?”
He snorted. “How could I not? You and Em whispering whenever I leave the goddamn room? Plus, there are saltines everywhere. I thought you weren’t because I’ve never seen you dash off on a morning, then I realized you had to be difficult and be the only woman in the world to get lunch sickness.”
She pouted. “That’s not fair. It's not like there’s a checklist and we can pick off which time is most convenient to puke our guts up.”
He snickered. “No, I guess not. But, anyway, I realized a few days ago and was waiting for you to say something. Then, I realized that was like waiting for the moon.”
She grimaced. “Sorry.”
He reared up and let his weight fall on his hands which he placed either side of her head. “Sorry about the baby?” he asked with a scowl.
She bit her lip but shook her head. “No. Not that. I just… I wasn’t sure if you’d be ready.”
"Why wouldn’t I be?” he demanded, eyes wide in bemusement. “I’m with the woman I love. Why wouldn’t we be ready for a family?”
“I don’t know. We just… we never talked about it, and it's pretty fast.” She bit her lip again, then admitted, “Em and I were talking about ways for me to broach the topic with you.”
He rolled his eyes. “How about this? Ty, you know how me and you spend hours in bed every day, and have done since last year? Well, you’ve knocked me up.” He winked. “How about that?”
She ducked her head to hide her grin. “Would it have worked?”
“Yeah. And I’d have preferred to find out any other way than saltines,” he grumbled, then, he let out a long breath. A grin broke through, a dopey one, one that told her how happy he was. “We’re going to be parents, Birdie.”
She caught his eye, tears welling in hers as she whispered, “I know.”
His smile was soft, tender, as he dropped his head to press his lips to hers. “I love you, Mrs Andrews.”
“And I love you.” More than she knew how to handle sometimes.
But, he never failed her. Never let her feel like she was lesser.
He empowered her in so many ways that she felt like a different woman now he was in her life.
He’d helped her sort through her staff, with Em’s aid of course, to find two directors who could help pick up some of her workload. Now, she lived at the penthouse with him, and all his and her boxes had been unpacked months ago.
Finally, she was living in a home, not just an empty shell.
All thanks to this man.
Because, not only had he filled it up with himself, but they were going to fill it up with the baby they’d created together.
All those years ago when they’d first met, she’d dreamed of this. But had never thought it was possible.
But, Birdie was realizing, living the dream was far more incredible than she’d even imagined.
It was even worth being called Birdie again…
The End