Suddenly Enthroned

by C R Riley

  I also know you are curious on how I handled childbirth. I am not going to lie to you, I opted for an epidural and thought now this is how all women should labor. That is until the medication wore off three hours before Nicolette was born, which is when I thought my insides were going to fall out. I almost gave up, except my husband wouldn’t let me. He asked all unnecessary personal to clear the room, leaving only Dr. Wilson, Antonio, one nurse—and of course me. Then in true form he gave me an order like only he can do. Fifteen minutes later I was holding the product of my hard labor and bawling because she was so very beautiful. I just might agree to do it for him a few more times now that I understand the pain is worth the results.

  Right now, I am on the third floor of my studio, painting a portrait of my two-favorite people. My mother took this photograph with her camera when she was here for a visit last.

  Oh, that reminds me.

  My mother and father will be moving here in a few more months. My father’s seat on the Senate ended a few months ago. My mother handed in her resignation around that same time. I am even building them a house on the eastside of our property so that they will be close to us. It was a no brainer for them they said. There was no way they wanted to live a whole ocean away from their grandchild—or me so they claimed, although I think Nicolette was the main reason, and I don’t blame them. Either way I am thrilled that they will be around and so is Antonio.

  It’s a little past midnight. A full moon is shining in the window next to me. I am studying the image of Antonio holding our baby girl above his head, making her giggle.

  He is the perfect father. I knew he would be, the way he is with Isabel was a sure sign of that. Every night before she goes to bed is their designated time. He holds her while he reads her a story. He is also teaching her both Spanish and Portuguese in much the same way his mother taught him. I am better at understanding it now, hopefully by the time our children are fluent I will be as well.

  I take a step back to let the paint dry before I attempt adding to it again. I’m definitely not a portrait painter and wouldn’t be hired to do this for a living, however I am not painting this for anyone but me. It will hang it in my studio along with the few others I have dared to render.

  My absolute favorite hangs above one of my desks so that I am able to look up at it for a distraction when I need to. It’s not one I’d let anyone but me or those I consider close stare at. My mother has a difficult time looking at it, says it a little too much for her. But Hope is often seen staring at it when she comes by to work on a project with me. I think she does it more when she knows Dane is sure to interrupt us. He is a very jealous man, but if he doesn’t man up soon, I am not sure he will get his chance to.

  You want to know about the painting. I’ll give you a hint. I used one of my sketches from my wedding night as my inspiration.

  Get your head out of the gutter; I said I allowed those close to me to admire it. Do you really think I would let them see a portrait of my husband if he were completely nude? No, I would not.

  That portrait hangs in my bedroom closet behind another less obvious painting of our home. I only look at it when I am alone, and no one but Antonio and me have laid eyes on it. He claims I have a wild imagination; I however believe I didn’t even come close to doing him any justice.

  The painting above my desk has a sheet draped over his most private areas. And since he is lying on his stomach facing me, it only covers a portion of him. His eyes are most definitely staring at me, giving me those bedroom eyes that melt me from the inside out.

  I sense him before I hear him moving in behind me. Lately I have been having trouble sleeping, a sure sign my body is preparing for what is to come in a few short months down the road.

  His large warm hand brushes my hair to one side so that his lips can have free reign of my neck. He is very good at letting those lips warm me up before he even touches me anywhere else.

  “What are you doing?” He whispers.

  “Looking over the blue prints for Fort Serna. We start on that project in a few weeks and I want to make sure I know it inside and out before then.” I glance over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for my bed partner.” Antonio lets his hands run down the front of my robe until he finds the knotted sash. “I thought we agreed you’d stop working late at night. You need sleep. My son needs to get his rest as well.”

  My head falls back when the sides of my robe fall open and his hands land on my slightly rounded belly. “Son huh? Are you sure you gave me a boy this time around? Maybe we are growing a second princess in there.”

  One hand travels up towards my breast, while the other treks south. I am at his mercy right now and he knows it.

  Hormones are real tricky things during pregnancy. One minute they have you feeling like you could toss your cookies, and the next they have you wanting to eat everything you see or smell. They also make you moody and extremely horny.

  It’s not like I left my husband unsatisfied a few hours ago when I slipped out of our bedroom. I had ridden him hard and put him into a very blissful coma before I treaded off to do my own thing.

  “Antonio.” I whisper his name as he pinches my nipple while toying with my center.

  I am weeping for him easily and he can surely detect it. Probably explains why he spins me around on my stool and scoops me into his arms. I nuzzle right in and inhale the cinnamon and mint scent that is purely my man.

  He doesn’t take me against the wall inside the library. Right now, my belly is just big enough to get in the way, so he instead carries me down the corridor to our suite.

  Don’t worry; we have had a lot of wall sex in that special space. He did exactly what he promised he would do so very long ago, not all that long after we moved in actually. He’s done it in fact so many times, that I am very glad that we soundproofed this room so that no one could hear our cries when we made love in that room.

  Once he carries me across the large space to our bed, he removes my robe before removing his own. Then he slides in behind me, and much like he did that first time, he makes very slow punishing love to me.

  Drives me completely over the edge, knowing that the only way to get me to sleep is to force my endorphins to kick in after multiple orgasms. When he knows I am on the verge of breaking he pounds into me until I cry out and see stars.

  No matter how many times he does that, I have learned it will always feel the same and a certain way to make sure I will not awake this time after I pass out. And just like every other time I make sure to tell him how much I love him in case I don’t make it, positive this time may just do me in.

  As my mind drifts off, I recall the first time I saw this man walk through the door of my boss’s office. I remember thinking then that whoever gets the pleasure of loving this man one day had better appreciate it. Well I can assure you ladies I appreciate it several times a week and twice sometimes on Sundays.