“Sounds good, doesn’t it?” Sucking her earlobe, he plunged one finger inside her, causing her to gasp with pleasure. “Let’s stay in tonight and enjoy each other some more. Let’s tear this place up, see if we can make ourselves another baby.”
His words sent her heart soaring.If only he knew!
Need swamped her as he fingered her with sensual strokes, the rough pad of his thumb brushing deliciously over her clit. She was close to orgasming when he slowly withdrew his fingers. She moaned and tilted her hips, ready for him to push his hard cock inside her.
Just as he lifted her leg over his, there was a loud knock on the door.
“Mom?” a boyish voice called out. “Dad?”
Marcus swore under his breath.
Samara turned her face into her pillow, muffling a laugh.
“What is it, Malcolm?” Marcus called out gruffly.
“Milan’s being a brat. Can you and Mom take her?”
Samara shot Marcus a rueful grin over her shoulder. “Are you sure you want more kids?”
He gave her a surly smile. “Let me get back to you on that.”
She laughed, pulling the covers up to conceal their nudity before calling out, “Bring her in, Mac.”
The double doors swung open as Malcolm trudged into the large master suite carrying his baby sister.
The sight of them brought a warm smile to Samara’s face. She sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. “Hey, babies.”
Malcolm looked tired and grumpy. “Hey, Mom and Dad.”
“Good morning.” Marcus lay back against a mound of pillows, his arms folded behind his head as he gave his daughter a mock-stern glare. “You causing trouble, little girl?”
She grinned impishly and shook her head.
“Yes, she is,” Malcolm grumbled. “She came busting into our room to ask if it was Christmas yet. When we told her no, she started pouting and whining about Santa being late.”
Marcus and Samara laughed.
Scowling, Malcolm stalked around to Samara’s side of the bed and gladly handed Milan over.
Grinning, Samara smooched her daughter’s chubby cheeks and hugged her close to her chest. Milan smelled warm and sweet, like fresh cotton and the coconut-infused shea butter that Samara used on her hair.
She snuggled up against Samara while grinning adorably at Marcus, who reached over and started tickling her tummy. Her delighted giggles and squeals filled every corner of the master suite.
Matthew wandered into the room, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning, son,” Marcus and Samara greeted him.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, crawling up onto the bed and sprawling on his stomach next to Malcolm. They wore matching blue pajamas and sported identical scowls directed at their baby sister.
“Thanks a lot for waking us up,” Matthew groused.
Milan blithely ignored him and snuggled into the crook of Samara’s arm, staring up at her with the thick-lashed, almond-shaped eyes they’d both inherited from Asha. “When is Christmas coming, Mommy?”
Samara smiled. “Christmas will be here in twenty days.”
“Aw, man,” Malcolm groaned. “That sounds so far away.”
Samara gave him an amused look. “Are you going to start complaining after you just accused your sister of doing the same thing?”
