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Walking into our apartment, I take her jacket, walk her over to the couch, and crouch in front of her, removing her boots.

“Do you want a baby shower?”

She shakes her head. “Luna asked me if I wanted to do a joint shower with her since Zach has arranged one, but I guess it’s just not my thing. Maybe a meal out with my friends. I just want to lie in bed, drink cocoa, and watch trash tv for a month.”

Looking up from where I’m undoing her laces, I see a smile I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed. My wife looks light, free, and like she’s finally making decisions for herself.

“You look really fucking beautiful right now, you know that?”

Her blue eyes shine back at me with warmth.

Wasting no time, I toss her boots to one side, kneel between her legs, and undo the button on her work pants.

Pulling them off her legs, she’s left in only her black lacy thong and work blouse. As I push that up and over her pregnant stomach, I marvel at her stretch marks. “Your body is a work of art, Princess. Every line, mark, every way you’ve adapted to our babies. I’m in awe of everything you are.”

Her eyes gloss over. “You really mean that?”

Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod a couple of times and hook my fingers in the waistband of her underwear.

I watch as my wife’s chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly in anticipation as I drag her already soaking thong down her perfect legs before I hook them over my shoulders.

One small swipe over her needy clit has her back arching upwards. “The grin on my face must be so fucking wide right now, huh?” I croon.

“Annoyingly big.” She replies and then gasps as I push one of my fingers inside her.

“How many of my fingers do you want, Mrs. Jones?”

She squeezes her eyes shut as I slowly curl inside her. “More.”

“My wife is so greedy,” I say, entering her with another and then one more. As she takes me, I can hear the way her pussysucks on my fingers, and my dick strains against my pants in response.

I want to fuck her so badly. But more than that, I want to watch the way she can come undone from my hands and tongue alone.

I look down at the hardwood. “Princess, you're so fucking wet for me. You’re dripping on our floor.”

She moans and throws her head back into the couch cushions.

“Want me to clean you up or leave you in this mess?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“Clean me up. Please.”

“So fucking polite for such a dirty girl.”

Eating her pussy like an ice cream cone, I waste no time as I draw my tongue through her cunt, all while moving my fingers at a torturous pace.

But I want more. I want her moans to be louder, her need for me to be unbearable.

Dropping her legs down, she looks heartbroken as I stand and walk to the bedroom, making a beeline for her nightstand.

“Where are you going?” she cries.

Kate’s frown turns into hungry need when I return a second later with her purple butt plug and lube.

Dropping back down to my knees in front of her, I make sure everything is ready before slowly pushing it inside her ass. “You thought I didn’t notice when you brought this home last week.” I slide it in slowly, and she gasps when I push my fingers back into her pussy.