One of his hands disappeared between my spread legs and I sank into him with a moan as he pushed two fingers inside of me.

Braden’s groan reverberated around the room. “Wet doesn’t even cover it.”

“I told you,” I panted, my head falling forward as he toyed with me. “I’m horny as hell.”

He chuckled and his fingers disappeared. “My wife. Ever the romantic.”

The heat of his cock nudged between my legs and I whimpered. “Yes.”

Without further ado Braden pushed inside of me and the wonderful feeling of being filled took my overly aroused body straight to the clifftop.

“I’m close,” I panted in disbelief.

Braden’s grip tightened on my hips as he rocked into me. “Just let it happen. I’ll take you there as many times as you want.”

“Oh God.” I pulled at the fabric I’d curled into my hands as I pushed back into Braden’s gentle thrusts. “God, Braden… Braden… Oh God… yes… yes!” My back bowed as I came, my inner muscles rippling and tugging around Braden’s cock.

“Fuck,” he grunted as it continued. “Fuck!” When he said the word ‘fuck’ he thrust a little deeper, faster into me.

I steadied my body against its desire to go languid and loose in the aftermath of my orgasm and as Braden pumped into me I felt the tension start to build again.

His fingers bit into my hips. “One more time.” He slid his hands up my spine and around my chest, cupping my breasts in his hands. Gently, he applied pressure, and I eased up off my hands until my back was pressed to his chest.

I gasped at how deep he slid inside me, and reached out behind me for him, resting my hands on his hips for balance.

He pinched my nipples and I cried out, my head falling back on his shoulder. And then he started to move again and I caught his rhythm, pushing up off his cock and sliding back down it again.

My pace quickened but it was jerky with need and Braden bit out an aroused, impatient curse. He eased me back onto my hands again, clearly needing to control our pace.

I cried out as he thrust into me. “Yes!”

He grunted, satisfied, in response to my euphoria. Sex lately was nowhere near as desperate and hard as we’d had it in the past—Braden was always gentler with me while I was pregnant—but it was one hundred percent absolutely amazing.

Pushing me toward the clifftop again, my body tensed when I reached the precipice. Braden slid inside me once more and just like that I fell over, another deep, long climax washing over me.

I felt Braden pump into me a few more times and then his grip tightened on my hips, his own stilled against mine and he let out a guttural cry of my name.

After a few seconds he pulled out of me, allowing me to turn around and flop onto my back.

Braden lay down beside me, sliding an arm over our bump and cuddling into me.

We lay there for a moment just listening to each other try to catch our breaths.

Finally I turned my head and looked into his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, the words so easy, so natural.

“I love you too.”

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jocelyn.”

I frowned. “Is it over?”

Braden grinned. “No. We’re just taking a break.”

Relief moved through me. “Good. I’m not done being all lustful and needy.”

“That’s good to know, but I’m not a god, babe. I need time to recharge these days.”

I shook with laughter. “I can’t believe you just admitted you’re not a god.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” He buried closer to me, closing his eyes for a moment.

He’d had a long day.

“We can just go to sleep if you want?” I would be disappointed but I’d live with it.

His eyes popped open. “I said I’m not a god, not that I’m ancient. I’m spending the rest of the night having sex with you, alright.”

I bit my lip, trying to stifle my laughter and failing. “No need to get uppity.” I slid my hand down his stomach and over his semi-erection. “Or do.”

His lips twitched at my innuendo. “Keep doing that and this show will be back on the road very soon.”

“That’s the plan.” I wrapped my hand around him and began stroking him.

The color started to rise in his cheeks. “Babe,” he groaned.

I brushed my lips over his. “Happy Valentine’s Day number twelve, Braden.”

He kissed me back and whispered, “Here’s to the next sixty.”

Ellie and Adam

“I almost feel bad for Joss and Braden,” I said as the hostess seated Adam and me at a lovely romantic corner table at the back of the restaurant. Our favorite restaurant in Old Town had gone the classy way for Valentine’s Day. There were no garish pink and red hearts anywhere. Just candlelight and red roses.

“I don’t,” Adam said. “We did the babysitting last year.”

“Exactly. We know what they’re going to have to put up with.” I gave him a mischievous smile. “Six kids. And Joss is pregnant.”

“You know Braden will probably do all the heavy lifting.” Adam stopped talking as the waiter approached and introduced himself. Once we had our menus in hand and our drinks ordered, the waiter walked away and Adam started talking as though we’d never been interrupted. “He’s acting extra protective of her since this is their last kid. You’d think she’s the only woman ever to be pregnant.”

I wrinkled my nose at his dry tone. “I think it’s romantic.”

“Els, you think everything and everyone is romantic.”

“Not true.” I looked at my menu. “Sometimes my husband is completely unromantic.”

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter appeared before Adam could respond with what I knew would be some sarcastic comment or other.

“Yes, please.” I gave him my order and Adam took a couple of minutes but eventually decided on what he wanted.

I sipped at my water, looking around the restaurant at all the other couples. They varied from being completely into one another, to looking bored. My guess was that the bored couples were the ones who had been together the longest.

As a romantic, I loved Valentine’s Day. I thought it was wonderful that we had a day dedicated to the people we loved. Adam, however, hated Valentine’s Day. In his words it was ‘a bunch of commercial bullshit’ and ‘completely unromantic to force people to show that they care’ when it was ‘far more romantic to be spontaneous’.

Despite my love of Valentine’s Day I tried to understand where he was coming from and almost kind of did. Although my husband had a practical nature, he was easy with his ‘I love yous’ and spontaneous little gifts. If you were married to someone like Adam you didn’t need Valentine’s Day. But not everyone had an Adam. Some people needed the reminder to show their partner that they loved them.

“Sweetheart.”

I turned to look at Adam. “Yeah?”

“Where did you go?” His brow was knitted together in concern.

I leaned across the table as I lowered my voice. “Look how bored half of these couples seem. Is that what marriage does to you?”

Adam looked around the room and then back at me. “We’ve been together for over a decade and we’re not bored. Right?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. Still… I wouldn’t want us to go that way.”

“We won’t,” he said, so certain.

I shrugged. “I just think perhaps—” I cut off as the waiter arrived with our starter.

“You just think?” Adam said once the waiter was gone.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t get lazy. You know… we should try to keep things spiced up in the bedroom.”

“For a couple who have two kids and full time jobs I think we’re doing pretty fucking good in the bedroom,” he said, seeming annoyed I’d say otherwise. “Or am I interpreting your orgasms incorrectly?”

I snorted. “No. You are not.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I swallowed my food and took a sip of wine, giving myself a little courage to say what I wanted to say next. Finally I looked him in the eye. “We haven’t had sex in a public place. Perhaps we should do that.”