Page 126 of Fractured Empire

“Parent guilt?” I turn my head, keeping my cheek flat against the couch so I can look at her without impeding her work. “I told you, baby, you’re not selfish for doing things for yourself.”

“I know,” she replies, a smile touching her lips. “It’s not guilt so much as it is a desire to spend as much time as I possibly can with them. I really do adore every single moment, even the exhausting ones.”

“Like when Leo demands to be chased around the backyard for an hour?” I guess, chuckling. “Or when Bastian tries to climb trees and gives you a mini heart attack in the process?”

“Yes to both,” my wife replies with a huff. Despite her tone, she can’t hide her grin. “I’m sure I’ll want massages as I start to get bigger and more sore. They can help with skin elasticity and stretching, you know? But right now, I prefer only leaving them when it means we’re going on one of the many fantastic dates you’ve planned for us.”

Taking her out is one of my favorite things to do when I leave the house too. We never fail to have a good time, and the intimacy is additive. Not just the physical stuff, but the adult conversation, the close proximity, and the romance. The hot sex that typically occurs when we get home after is just a bonus, honestly.

“Fuck,” I grunt suddenly, her hands dipping into the most tender bit of my back muscles. The exclamation is half-pained, half in relief. She isn’t too rough as she locates the spot, kneading it with her skilled fingers and keeping a tight pressure. “Maybe I am an old man.”

Katya giggles. “My old man.”

“Minx,” I accuse, groaning again as her hands continue working their magic. “I’ll show you old…as soon as you’re done making my back feel better.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Damn right, you are.”

She laughs freely again. “Do you think we’ll be this greedy for each other when we’re old and gray?”

I fucking hope so.

“Probably,” I decide, humming as I try to imagine it. “We’ll have to be careful not to break our hips.”

“God, could you imagine the embarrassment?” Katya clicks her tongue. “The kids would be adults, probably with kids of their own, and they’d get a phone call that Dad broke his hip getting busy with Mom.”

“We better take our vitamins and keep ourselves limber then,” I suggest, lifting a brow at her when she meets my gaze. “I plan on fucking you just like I do now until my dick stops working or my heart stops beating, whatever comes first.”

“How romantic,” she drawls sarcastically, huffing but still smiling despite herself.

“I aim to please.”

Especially where Katya is concerned. Making her happy has quickly become one of my favorite things, and that desire has only grown since we found out she’s pregnant. There’s something so fulfilling about having a wife who not only cares for me, who not only loves me, but also one who wants to have children with me. She treats Bastian and Leo like they’re her own. She’s their mother in every single way that matters, and she’s thrilled to give them a sibling on top of it all.

If she never wanted another child, I would be content of course. My boys are more than enough for us, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be their father. Still, there’s something special about sharing a love with someone who wants to create life with you. She loves me so much that she wants to bring a little version of us into the world, and she’s willing to alter her body to grow it.

Maybe it’s a deep-rooted human desire to reproduce that makes me feel that way, or maybe it’s just an overall feeling of being blessed by such an amazing woman. Either way, Katya Moretti, formerly Lukáčová, is most positively the greatest gift me and my children could ever receive.

“I think you’re done,” my wife informs me, dragging her soft hands up my back one final time. “I’ll do this tomorrow night too just to check on that tense area for you, but you should feel a lot better in the morning.”

“Was I good?” I ask, sitting up and already feeling less pain.

“Good?” she echoes, almost looking confused.

Nodding, I reach for her and pull her still slippery hand into mine. “You told me if I was good I could take you upstairs and eat your pretty little pussy.”

“I did?” She blinks her wide, lovely blue eyes, pretending to look innocently scandalized. “That sounds so unlike me.”

“Does it?” I challenge, arching a brow. “I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in going to our bedroom and sitting on my face until you scream, then?”

Her face flushes and her throat bobs with a swallow.

“You’ve persuaded me.”

Grinning, I scoop her up and kiss her lips. “Lucky me.”

Luckiest motherfucker around, for certain.