My fingers slipped into the waistband of her soft pants and tugged them down. Isabella lifted each foot, one by one, as I pulled the fabric away. My hands roamed up the back of her calves, her knees, her upper thighs, and finally her backside. I pulled her toward me gently.
I let my nose press into her core, over the fabric of her underwear, and smiled at the gentle tug of my hair. “I can’t wait to taste my fiancèe’s pussy, slip my fingers in its warmth,” I said. “Do you think it’ll taste different when my fiancée comes all over my face?”
Isabella shivered above me. “You are ridiculous,” she said.
I tugged down her underwear and brought my mouth up to her middle. My tongue slipped out and I ran it from her entrance to her clit, feeling Isabella buckle slightly. I used my hands to help hold her up by her hips as I set my mouth on her warm pussy and devoured her.
I thrust my tongue inside her, tasting her arousal, and used broad strokes to run up and down her middle. She hummed and bucked against my face as she tugged my hair and brought me closer. I could never get enough of this.
I wrapped one hand around her waist, holding her steady so I could use my other hand to finger her gently. I started with one finger before quickly adding another and gently brought them in and out as my tongue flicked over her clit.
“Max,” she said my name like she was begging, “please, you don’t have to go so easy on me.”
I pushed two fingers deep inside her and looked up. “Are you asking for it to be harder, Isabella?”
She nodded. “Yes, please, I want it harder.”
I sucked her clit in between my lips sharply as my fingers picked up their pace. She was dripping wet, and my hand glistened with her arousal. I knew she was close as she started moaning above me. I kept fucking her with my fingers as my tongue flicked over her sensitive nub to bring her over the edge.
Her legs began trembling and her pussy started clenching my fingers, locking me inside. I felt the waves of her orgasm roll through her body as she soaked my hand and mouth. I lapped up every bit of it because she had never tasted sweeter. I slipped my fingers out of her and in between my lips to clean them off.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t propose at the Nook now,” she said. “It would’ve been really awkward if you’d tried that afterward.”
I chuckled as I helped her slip back into her underwear and pants, bringing the waistband up with a kiss on her belly before standing.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Right now? Really blissed out. And tired. Really tired,” Isabella replied.
I kissed her forehead and grabbed her hand, leading me out of the room. “Let’s get you out of here and into a warm bed. I’ll keep working on the drywall so the dust can settle before you’re back here.”
“Can you take me back to your apartment?” she asked. “I kind of just want to live in our own bubble for a couple of days before the chaos sets in.”
“I would take you to go nap on the moon if that’s what you wanted,” I replied. “Isabella, I’m not sure you totally realize everything that I would do for you.”
As we walked out of the room, her hand in mine, I couldn’t help but marvel at the turn our lives had taken. There, in the midst of renovation dust and the echoes of our future, everything felt right. The prospect of becoming a father, of stepping into this new chapter with Isabella, filled me with a sense of purpose and joy I hadn’t known was missing.
It wasn’t just the excitement of the baby or the thrill of our engagement; it was the profound realization that this—us, our growing family, and the life we were building—was everything I’d ever wanted. The world outside, with its expectations and chaos, faded into insignificance. At that moment, as we stepped into the future together, as long as we had each other, we could face anything. This wasn’t just a new chapter. It was our greatest adventure yet, and I was ready for every moment of it.
THIRTY-FOUR
ISABELLA
The weeks that followed, marking quite possibly the biggest change in both Max’s and my life, were a whirlwind of morning sickness, picking out paint colors, napping, and juggling all the events I had committed to before my entire life changed.
The weeks turned into months, and as my belly grew, so did the support system around us. Max and I were overwhelmed by the love and assistance we received, not just in readying the brownstone but also in preparing for our new arrival. It seemed everyone wanted to play a part in this next chapter of our lives.
As soon as Max and I shared our news, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Our family and friends, including Natalia, Emma, Jessie, Liam, and my brother Dominic, rallied around us in a way that left me both overwhelmed and incredibly grateful. The brownstone, which had been a labor of love and, at times, a source of stress, became a hive of activity. Everyone pitched in to help get it ready for our little one’s arrival. I was touched by the generosity and the sense of community that enveloped us.
During the sanding and painting process, I was unceremoniously evicted from the premises, with everyone citing concerns about what I should and shouldn’t be breathing in. Despite my protests, I knew they were right. The health and safety of our baby were paramount, and I was willing to take all necessary precautions—even if it meant stepping back and letting others take the lead.
Natalia, always the organizer, had taken charge of scheduling the work that needed to be done on the house. She had a knack for rallying the troops, ensuring there was always someone present to oversee the contractors or to paint a room. Her ability to manage and delegate made the renovation process smoother than I could have ever imagined.
My mom, the epic problem-solver, tapped into my extensive network and found me an assistant. This was a first for me, and honestly, it was a game-changer. My ability to focus had taken a nosedive, a casualty of the pregnancy brain that seemed to have taken over my cognitive functions. My new assistant was a godsend, adeptly handling client communication for WanderLand and ensuring no detail, no matter how small, was overlooked. It was a relief to know my business was in capable hands, allowing me to focus on my health and the monumental changes on the horizon.
Emma, with her impeccable taste and design expertise, had offered to help decorate the nursery. Together, we pored over color swatches and furniture catalogs, choosing each piece with care. She had this incredible way of turning my vague ideas into a coherent vision, creating a space that was both beautiful and comforting.
Jessie, our group’s creative spirit, had surprised us by handcrafting some of the most adorable decorations for the nursery. From painted canvases to a mobile she had assembled herself, her contributions added a personal touch that made the room feel even more special.
