Page 48 of Always Meant To Be
Now, if my wife moved back into our room, she would have seen it and wouldn't be trying to find a dress to fit her for tonight's mandatory meal that I know for a fact she doesn’t want to attend.
The woman is still stubborn, she still won’t speak to her parents, and is refusing to use the credit card I ordered for her. This morning, I heard her mumble to Holly over the phone that she doesn't get paid for two more days and has already used her wages on baby things.
That fucking pissed me off. I called an interior decorator and hired them to decorate the room next to ours for a nursery.
It's time my wife started relying on me.
I hear her curse again, which makes me chuckle. I grab the dress, and walk out of our room to the guest room she's occupying.
The last two weeks haven't been easy. Over the years, I've given my wife a lot of trust issues, and I know it's going to takemore than two weeks for her to forgive and trust me, but she's letting me in. She's trying.
I take her to work, I show up for lunch, much to that fucker Damian’s dismay, and I pick her up, where I proceed to spoil her.
Last weekend, we traveled to the Hamptons, walked along the beach, and watched the sunset.
It was fucking perfect;shewas perfect.
When I reach the room and lean against the doorframe, I grin at the vision before me. A want to laugh when she starts to jump, but I hold it in, valuing my balls.
"Come on, come on, come on." She growls, "You fit yesterday. Seriously, come the fuck on…."
I smirk and ask, "Do you kiss your husband with that potty mouth?" making her jump, turning my way.
She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. The black dress she's trying to fit into is tight around her bump.
She glares. "This is your fault, Rome!"
I shrug, not at all sorry, as I hold the light blue maternity dress up by the thick straps, and her mouth opens a little.
"I thought you may like this," I murmur, my eyes taking in her form, lingering on her larger, suck-worthy tits.
My cock swells, and I will it to go down.
I'm fucking sexually frustrated, and yeah, I fucking regret telling her no sex until she's back in our bed.
Her eyes tear up, making me chuckle as she drops her hands. I walk over to her, placing the dress on the bed. My eyes catch my shirt folded neatly on the pillow. It’s the one I wore yesterday, which makes my hope build.
If she's wearing the shirts I've worn, then surely she's wanting to forgive me, right?
Smiling, I gently take her face in my hands, pressing my lips against hers before I rasp, "If you'd just move back into our room, you'd notice a closet full of maternity clothes."
She snorts, a few tears falling, and I quickly wipe them away before stepping back and bring my hands to her shoulders. I grip the black dress, pulling it down. Her heavy tits pop out, making my mouth water, and I can't help myself. I take a peaked nipple into my mouth, gently biting it, making her gasp.
I go to her other, giving it the same treatment, before kneeling, dragging the dress over her sixteen-week bump.
I smile and gently kiss it, murmuring, "Papa loves you…."
I hear my woman sniffle, making me smile, as I kiss her bump again, then bring the dress down to the floor as my lips go to her laced-covered cunt, gently kissing her there, inhaling her smell.
She inhales sharply as I stand with a smirk. Seeing exactly what I'm doing, she narrows her eyes but softens when I cup her bump.
"I hope we're having a girl that looks just like you," I admit, and her tears fall again, making me grin.
Her hormones are all over the place lately.
Being an ass, I gently pull her on sensitive nipples and ask, "You ready to give in yet?"
"You wish," she replies with narrowed eyes, her cheeks filled with a blush, making me laugh. I then kiss her lightly before grabbing the dress off the bed.