The Marriage Bed(152)

By: Stephanie Mittman


He shifted to accommodate her, pulling her into the curve of his body and pressing her bottom against his resting manhood. Outside the barn the crickets chirped, and a cool breeze sent chills across Olivia's scantily clad body. She should have thought to bring a blanket back to the barn, but from the stirring behind her she doubted she would be cool for long.

And he proved her right, once again.

Later, much later, he tucked his discarded shirt around her. "Do you think we might have made a baby?"

"I—I don't know," Olivia said, and she felt his hand cradle her flat belly and she covered it with her own.

"I think we did," he said. His voice was sure and hopeful, as if a union     so perfect had to have produced a miracle.

"It doesn't matter," she said, no doubt surprising him as much as herself. "The truth is, I have everything I want right now. Everything I've always wanted."

He snuggled her closer to him, his contented sigh chilling her sweaty skin, a kiss warming it again.

"Still," he said, playing with her hair and teasing the skin on her arm with it, "I bet we did."

She twisted around to look at him and asked, "Does it matter so to you?" After the years of disappointment, she hated the thought that he might be disappointed again.

"Only," he said, seeking out her breasts and teasing a nipple, "that if I'm right, we've got ourselves one more child to love. And if I'm wrong . . ." His hand inched down her belly and found the still-moist curls of her womanhood. "We'll just have to try again . . . "

He kissed the top of her head softly.

"And again . . . "

His lips kissed her eyelids and moved down her face to find her lips.

"And again . . ."

Then he finally shut up and made good on his promise.