You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance

by Scarlett Avery

  Fuck.

  My cock is buried so deep inside her hole, I’m sure with a little effort, she could also swallow my balls.

  Bloody hell.

  I pull back out of her until only the tip of my cock is inside her. The visual alone is potent enough to make me come. I swing my hips back and thrust forward and slide right inside her ass effortlessly.

  “You’re mine forever.”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I’m yours,” she wails.

  “Damn right.”

  “I’m your slut.”

  “No, you’re my fucking filthy slut.”

  “Slam your big cock inside me. Slam it hard. Please.”

  This is so powerful, words fail me for a beat. That said, nothing trumps looking down and seeing my girl with her eyes closed and her lips pressed between her teeth succumbing to pleasure.

  It’s a beautiful thing.

  "More, more, more,” she begs.

  I give it to her.

  I ram into her like a bloody piston.

  “Deeper,” she shouts.

  “Fuck, you’re wild, kitten.”

  Every time our skin slaps together, I feel like my heart won’t make it.

  “Four months apart, Barrett... Four. More. Deeper. Faster.”

  Wow.

  I tilt my head to the side and look down at her with her eyes shut and I can’t help but grin like a bloody fool.

  “I love you this dirty, kitten.”

  Her response nearly causes cardiac arrest.

  “Pump into me like you fucking mean it, sailor.”

  Charlotte circles her arms behind her and pulls her cheeks apart.

  Christ.

  “Stretch my filthy hole!” she shouts.

  “You want me to pound into that little butthole?”

  “Ruin me.”

  “Thank me for honoring your hole, kitten.”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  Slap.

  “Thank you, who?”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  Fuck, yeah.

  “Moan louder for me, you slut.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Let the neighbors hear what a dirty girl you are. I want them to know that your Master takes good care of you.”

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Slap.

  “Oh, God, Barrett.”

  Slap. Slap. Slap.

  “I fucking own your ass, you whore.”

  “Yes, I’m your whore. Your slut. Yours.”

  My God, she’s perfect.

  “Don’t you ever forget it.”

  Slap.

  “Never. I can’t. I’m too fucking addicted to your big cock.”

  “Jesus, kitten, I’m too fucking addicted to you.”

  My voraciousness for her is insatiable.

  I lean over and drop one hand against the headboard, holding on steady while I slide the other one down her stomach until my fingers clamp around her clit.

  “There's nothing left to me. I want us to fall off this cliff together. Come for me, kitten. Can you do that?"

  My heart pounds in my chest and my cock twitches with every beat.

  "Yes," she whimpers.

  "I want you to come hard. You hear me?” I whisper.

  She nods.

  "You know better than that."

  "Yes. I promise. I will."

  "Yes, who?"

  "Oh, fuck."

  Slap.

  "Wrong answer."

  "Yes, Master."

  “Good girl. Give it all to me, Charlotte. Show me how much you’ve missed me. Show me how much you love me. Show me how much you belong to me,” I say before biting the tender skin between her neck and shoulder. Each word is a struggle, but I'll be damned if she doesn't give me what I want.

  She tilts her head back sending her blonde hair brushing against my face.

  “God, Barrett. Give it to me. Harder. Harder. Harder,” she breathes out.

  “Holy fucking God,” I rasp.

  The adrenaline from being with her again isn’t something I can contain or suppress. It's too strong.

  I pound her even harder.

  My cadence is savage.

  Rough.

  Untamed.

  Ferocious even.

  In other words, I’m a breath away from giving up all control.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chants.

  As the tightening against my balls becomes overwhelming, I add just the right amount of pressure against her clit.

  "Mother of God," she shouts. Her voice is laced with a potent combination of wantonness and despair. “I'm com—” she wails as her juices drench my hand. Jesus. “Dear God. Dear God. Dear God,” Charlotte prays.

  My girl is struggling to keep it together.

  I'm not faring much better.

  When she clenches hard against my cock, I lose it.

  "Christ," I grunt as I ride my own climatic wave.

  I come long and hard, gasping for air.

  My cum is so abundant that it spills right out of her hole and down my legs, but I’m so wired, I can’t stop. I keep fucking my cum into her hole.

  Jesus Christ, this is so bloody hot.

  Exhausted, I halt all movements and slowly slide out of her. I lie next to her and pull her in my arms. I’m not ready yet to let go of her.

  Our breathing is uneven and fills the room as homage to one of the most intense interludes we’ve shared in recent memory.

  My lips press against her temple. “You’re mine,” I struggle to say.

  She responds with a languorous smile.

  "You're my freaking weakness," I pant.

  "And you're my everything," she says breathily.

  “I’ll never forget this day for the rest of my life, Charlotte.”

  It doesn't get much better than this.

  She’s mine to cherish, protect and love. Forever.

  CHAPTER 52

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  Barrett

  "I hate you, Barrett Ascott!” Charlotte yells.

  “You know you don't," I retaliate.

  “No, seriously, mate, I bloody hate you!” she yells louder.

  “No, butterfly, you love me.”

  "Wipe that stupid smile off of your face, Barrett," she snaps.

  "I'm sorry."

  The two other women in the room chuckle.

  "Back to the part of you loving me unconditionally," I say.

  “Noooooo!” she wails.

  “You do, butterfly."

  "Look what you've done to me," she complains.

  "I didn't do anything. We did this together."

  “Noooooo!” she wails again. "You tricked me, Barrett," she protests. “You fooled me, and I fell for it."

  I chuckle. "In having a second child?"

  "Yes. We should have stopped with Aiden."

  "You wanted this baby as much as I did."

  "I forgot how painful this is," she sobs.

  "You're the strongest woman I know—”

  "More than your mum?"

  "Mum is so proud of you. She admires your courage."

  Mum mentioned numerous times that my coming into this world wasn’t a picnic. From what I understand, big babies are a standard on her side of the family.

  "Your babies are bloody massive."

  I bite off a smile. “Charlotte, you're my beautiful wife. You can do this. I'm here for you."

  "No. I can't. This hurts.”

  “Mrs. Ascott, I’m going to need you to push,” Nurse Calvert says.

  “I can’t. His babies are fucking ten-pounders. I'm only human.”

  “Girl, I hear you. Carl, my sweetheart and the love of my life, must have some kind of superpower sperm or something,” Nurse Calvert says. I chuckle under my breath. "We’ve been together since high school and we started young. All his babies were thirteen-pound melons.”

  “What?” Charlotte yells gripping my hand harder. Ouch. “I would've died. How did you do it? I mean, didn't th
ey rip you apart?”

  "Girl, my vajayjay was on fire for weeks. They stitched me up so good, I never thought I'd be able to pop another baby again. Lo and behold, Carl barely winked at me and I was pregnant again. What can I say? I love the man something fierce and I love our babies, so I just kept popping them out.”

  You have to love Americans for their frankness. In the short time I’ve come to know her, Nurse Cynthia Calvert doesn't believe in sugarcoating anything.

  “Did you do it with drugs?” Charlotte asks.

  “Of course, honey.”

  “Bloody hell, Barrett, why didn’t you talk me out of having this second child the natural way?”

  I did.

  Many times.

  Many, many times.

  I was campaigning against it like a politician because I knew how difficult the first pregnancy was on her.

  Julianne, Veronica, her mum and Amelia—all mums—also voiced their concern.

  Even my mum tried to reason with her, but Charlotte refused to listen.

  When Charlotte was still dead set on doing this without drugs, I knew we had spent too much time visiting California in the last few years. That totally screwed her up. Au natural isn't for everyone.

  Of course, in the end it’s her choice, because she's the one honoring me with our kids.

  "I'm sorry, butterfly,” I say simply.

  "Yes, you should be," she admonishes before turning her attention back to the nurse. “How many did you have?” Charlotte asks.

  “We have nine gorgeous babies. They're all teenagers and adults now.”

  “Mrs. Ascott, Nurse Calvert loves to share that story and we all love to hear it—over and over again—but we need to focus on your baby," Doctor Cheryl Higgins laughs.

  “Oh, I don't know, Doctor Higgins,” Charlotte says. "Maybe the baby isn't quite ready to come out yet."

  That's why her waters broke.

  "Is it too late for drugs?" Charlotte asks with a shaky voice.

  She started begging for drugs two hours ago. And she's hasn't stopped since.

  "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Ascott, but it is. We're going to have to go natural all the way."

  No matter how many times Doctor Higgins tells her, Charlotte keeps asking.

  "Bollocks," Charlotte says.

  "I really need you to push, Mrs. Ascott," Doctor Higgins repeats.

  My wife shakes her head vehemently. “Nope. I'm good.”

  "You can do this, Mrs. Ascott. Just push," Nurse Calvert encourages.

  "I'm too tired," Charlie sobs. “I’ve been pushing for three days and the baby still won’t come. I'm exhausted. There's nothing left to me.”

  It’s been ten hours, but she’s been in pain the whole time. I don't know what to do to make it easier on her other than to be here for her.

  "We don't have any other options here. I need you to work with me," Doctor Higgins implores. “The baby is just being a bit fussy.”

  "No, seriously, I'm good.”

  “Mrs. Ascott, this baby has to come out,” Doctor Higgins insists.

  “Not necessarily. The baby is fine inside my tummy. It's been in there for long enough. A few more months won't hurt.”

  My God, the woman can be stubborn.

  Doctor Higgins and Nurse Calvert stare at me with arched eyebrows.

  “Come on, Charlotte. Push," I say.

  "Nope." She shakes her head.

  I let out a long sigh. "From what Nurse Calvert just shared, it appears that my ten-pounders aren’t that bad. Not to mention, this is your second one. The training wheels are off now. This should be a piece of cake.”

  That gets a reaction from her.

  Her head snaps towards me so fast, I jerk back. She pins me down with a death stare, but I reward her with a warm smile.

  In her attempt to get on her elbow to give me what I suspect is the tongue-lashing of the century, she folds in half and starts screaming her head off. “Ohhhhh. God!”

  “Another contraction,” Nurse Calvert. “Mrs. Ascott, push,” Doctor Higgins commands.

  "Push, butterfly."

  “Oh, God, this really hurts so bad.”

  “I can see the baby’s head,” Doctor Higgins says.

  “You can?” Charlotte asks.

  "Yes," Doctor Higgins confirms. “You’re so close now.”

  “Push,” Nurse Calvert says. “Push.”

  “You can do this, butterfly.”

  “I can, can't I?"

  "Yes!" Doctor Higgins, Nurse Calvert and I chime in unison.

  And she does, grunting and sweating as she exerts the last bit of strength she has to give me the greatest gift in this world.

  “One more big one,” Doctor Higgins says. “We’re almost there.”

  With one last roar, my beautiful wife and the love of my life pushes our second child into this world.

  "It's a boy!" Doctor Higgins announces.

  "Congratulations!" Nurse Calvert says.

  Charlotte breaks down in tears.

  I hold her close to me.

  I'm a father again.

  I drop a flurry of soft kisses on her face. "Thank you," I murmur over and over again.

  Just like with Aiden, we refused to find out the baby’s sex in advance. We wanted it to be a surprise.

  Charlotte pulls her gaze away from mine. "I can’t hear him. Is something wrong?" she asks, panicked.

  I look up, concerned. "Is he okay?”

  "Come on, little fellow. Say hello,” Nurse Calvert coos at our son.

  “Waa! Waa! Waa!” Our beautiful baby boy makes his presence known.

  I smile wide.

  "The little fellow needed a minute," Nurse Calvert jokes. “I'm pretty sure I noted a posh British accent in that wail."

  "You’re impossible," Doctor Higgins laughs.

  "What? It's my first time delivering a British baby," Nurse Calvert explains.

  "Let's not take away from the Ascotts’ moment," Doctor Higgins reprimands.

  "Let me give your little fellow a quick wipe down and then he'll be ready for some skin to skin time with Mom. Once Mom, Dad and baby have spent some time together, I'll take the little champion away to weigh him and give him his first bath. Then he’s all yours again," Nurse Calvert says. "How does that sound?"

  "That sounds great. Thank you," Charlotte says. "I can't wait to meet him."

  "We did it," I say, leaning into her and kissing her tenderly again.

  "We did," Charlotte cries against my mouth.

  "You gave me another incredible gift, butterfly." I brush her damp hair away from her face.

  "I love you so much, Barrett," she says.

  "Oh, now you change your tune."

  She gives me a weak laugh. "You know I love you.”

  "I do. I love you too and I love our sons."

  "Our sons," she repeats.

  "Yeah, our sons. Our growing family."

  * * *

  “How is she? How's the baby? Are they okay? Why did it take so long? Is she in pain? Is it another big baby? It is a girl or a boy?" Julianne bombards me the second I step out of the delivery room.

  All right. One at a time.

  "Honey, give the man a chance to breathe," Kenner says, grabbing his wife in his arms and pulling her against his body.

  "I'm just concerned," Julianne snaps.

  "I'm sure he appreciates it, but you know how it works. Babies come when they're ready," Kenner chuckles.

  "It's just that the last pregnancy was so hard on her, and Charlie got it into her head that natural was the way to go for the second one. I'm sure it was hell," Julianne says.

  "It was," I nod. "But thank God both mother and child are doing great. I couldn't be more thankful or happier," I say.

  "Brilliant," Julianne says with a grin.

  “And it’s another boy!”

  “Oh, a boy,” Julianne gushes. She places her hands in prayer position underneath her chin and bats her eyelashes at me. "Gosh, that's incredible."

/>   "Congratulations, mate," Kenner says patting me on the shoulder.

  "Thanks. For the next pregnancy, we’ll make sure to petition even harder for the drugs," I chuckle.

  Kenner's booming laugh reverberates throughout the room. “I second that. Your wife almost ripped my arm off during one of her contractions on the way here, so I can imagine how it was for you in there.”

  “You don’t want to know, but I still love her like a fool.”

  "My sister," Julianne shakes her head. "Well, I won't be making that mistake. I’m checking the ‘YES to drugs’ box.” Kenner and I chuckle. “Wasn't Doctor Higgins amazing?" She’s Julianne’s OB-GYN.

  “Yes. I'm very grateful we knew someone who lives right here in Monterey. Since flying our doctor from London wasn’t an option for this impromptu birth, I'm glad we were in trusted hands.”

  "She's one of the best—”

  Julianne’s sentence is cut short when a tiny little warrior turns the corner and sees me. His eyes grow wide and he rewards me with a huge grin.

  “Dah-deeeeee!” Aiden shouts, running away from Julianne’s nursemaid. He sprints down the corridor with his four-year-old cousin in tow.

  "Hey, mate," I say, grabbing my two-year old son in my arms.

  “Dah-deeeeee!” he repeats.

  “Aiden!” I parrot.

  "Love you."

  It’s one of his favorite things to say these days.

  "I love you too.”

  "Want Mummy."

  Easy come. Easy go. That's life with a two-year-old.

  "You'll see her in a few minutes, mate," I tell him.

  "Oh."

  I drop a kiss on the tip of his button nose.

  He giggles.

  I attempt to comb his sandy blond hair with my figures, but he fights me. “No,” he protests. “Stop.”

  I don’t know why I keep trying. His hair is as wild as mine.

  “Mate, your hair is crazy.”

  “Crazy!” he shouts, lifting his hands above his head.

  I can’t help but laugh at his hilarious expression.

  "Where Mummy?" my son asks.

  "It’s where is Mummy, mate," I gently correct him.

  "Okay. Where Mummy?" he asks again.

  He’s stubborn. Just like his mother.

  I smile. "She just had the baby.”

  “Baby?”

  “You’re a big brother now. That comes with a lot of responsibility," I remind him. "Are you ready for that?"

  "Ready," he lifts his little chin up proudly.

  “You’re sure?”