I hold the brush between us like a weapon. “Oh, she did, huh?”

He nods.

“Our daughter, the one who can only babble and drool, told you she wants a sister?”

He nods, his smile turning wicked.

“She’s just now crawling, Nate. We agreed, two years between children.”

He takes another step, frowning now.

“I’m going to give her what she wants.”

“You mean what you want.” I laugh, dropping the brush when he pulls me into his arms.

“I don’t see a difference here.”

His mouth drops to mine in one hell of a toe-curling kiss. I find my protests falling on deaf ears when he pulls my sundress over my head and cups my naked breasts; the feel of his hands on me never fails to render me incapable of speech.

“Are you going to give us what we want?” he whispers against my neck, trailing his tongue down to my shoulder to give me a light nip of his teeth.

“Usually, it’s the woman with the ticking biological clock, you know?”

His soft chuckles tickle my skin. “You knew I wanted a house full of babies, Em. The way you look when you’re pregnant, I can’t even put it into words. Just knowing that you’re growing our love in there unmans me. Straight to my knees, baby.”

“Quinnly is so little, Nate,” I weakly add, and judging by the ear-splitting grin on his face, he knows I’m going to give him what he wants.

“Just think about how close she will be to her sister.”

I laugh. “You can’t guarantee her a sister, you know?”

His handsome face brightens instantly. He looks down at my naked chest and bites his lip, the bright teeth peeking out for a brief second before he releases it. When he looks back up at me, the look of rapture in his eyes makes me gasp softly.

“Watch me,” he rumbles against my mouth before literally sweeping me off my feet when they give out in a rush of desire.

When he pulls me from the bathroom and pushes me down on the mattress, I look up at him and lick my lips as he pulls his sweats down and yanks his shirt off, blindly tossing them in the corner.

Ever since Quinnly was born, we’ve been using condoms. I didn’t want to go back on the pill while breastfeeding, regardless of how safe it was. Call me weird, but I wasn’t willing to take a chance that she got traces of that when I nursed. I had started to wean her two weeks ago when she started to prefer the formula that we had to supplement when I got the flu. I was heartbroken, but I knew it was time.

Nate’s been dropping hints ever since about starting to try for another child. Hints that I’ve been ignoring, but judging by the hungry look on his face as he looks down at me, he’s going to do his best to make sure I’m pregnant by the end of tonight.

He leans down, placing his hands on my knees before slowly dragging them up. The slow seduction of his touch makes me squirm, eager to feel him against me. He rubs his nose against my lace covered pussy, and I almost die of need when I hear him moan as if the smell of me alone is the best thing he’s ever smelled.

“Nate,” I whine.

“Hush,” he scolds, looking up with a smirk. “I’m enjoying my wife.”

He spends the next painfully long five minutes doing just that. I know because I whine every time the clock turns over a new number, my oversensitive skin burning with every touch of his fingers, mouth, and tongue. Each nip of his teeth causes me to cry out against the palm he placed over my mouth when it became obvious I wasn’t going to be able to quiet my screams of pleasure.

And we learned the hard way over the last six months, babies seem to sense when the worst possible time to wake up will be. Which is usually the second he pushes his thick erection inside me.