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whiskeynwriting · 6 months

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When Two Became Three

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack brushing it away from your face), pregnancy, birth, postpartum life, established relationship/marriage, daddy kink (A.L.W.A.Y.S.), praise kink, male masturbation, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex.

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A/N: Look, I want sweet times with the baby but I NEEDDD sexy time with Daddy 😫 we'll get sweet times with the baby, trust me ❤️

Not proof read because 🤷🏻‍♀️

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Daddycember ‘23 Masterlist

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It was warm, the summer heat a smoldering force even in the late afternoon. You were sure it would’ve cooled off as the night grew on, but you wouldn’t be outside for that. The overwhelming warmth finally ceased when Jack helped you into the hospital, quickly finding a wheelchair to set you in. The onset of sudden contractions was surprising, since it was still a week until your due date. Nonetheless, Jack called ahead, securing a room for you to occupy until two became three.

What calmed you most about this slightly early delivery, was that you and Jack had the baby’s room completely prepared. Everything was assembled, all of his clothes washed and put away, all of his toys organized, all of his bottles washed and sterilized. Your hospital bag had been ready, too, packed only the night before.

What scared you most about this early delivery, was how quick it had occurred. Your contractions were rapid, with barely a minute between them when you got to the hospital, and Jack drove you as soon as the pain had started. In fact, Jasper was so eager to make his appearance, that you didn’t even have time for an epidural. The overwhelming urge to push took over your entire body. It was involuntary, your muscles just knowing what to do. That was something you hadn’t expected.

Through it all, the only thing that truly mattered to you was your husband’s presence. He refused to leave, refused to not be physically connected to you. Holding your hand, kissing your head, rubbing your shoulders and the back of your neck. He was always there, the reassuring, stabilizing warmth of him.

“They said seven pounds, nine ounces.” Jack informed you, smiling down at his son. He was the first to hold him.

It was early, a little past three in the morning. Exhaustion took over your body, a sleepy smile growing on your face. Sweat beaded against your temples, a dull throb consumed your muscles. But he was here, he was here. He was finally here.

The small dusting of dark hair on his little head reminded you of his father, and Jack agreed. It was dark enough to resemble his dad’s hair, though his eyes were nothing like Jack’s. A beautiful blue, rich and deep. And briefly, in this moment, you worried for Jack’s mental state. You’d worried about it before, of course, when considering this scenario. He’d never be able to forget Anna and Rhett, and he never should.

And while the previous thought is true, nothing could take away the joy Jack had for Jasper, for seeing his perfect son, his first child. This moment couldn’t be tainted by past trauma and memories. And with everything in him, he wants to thank you, thank you for carrying his son, for keeping him safe and fed and warm. For being brave enough to do this, to sacrifice and give him the family he’s always wanted. He’s dreamt of this moment for so many years, and now, in his very arms, he’s experiencing it.

“Honey,” He said, voice soft and wavering slightly. “Thank you.”

Gently, your eyes closed, breathing out a small, grateful laugh. “Can I hold him?”

“O-Of course!” Jack stuttered out, shocked that he hadn’t already handed the baby to you. “‘Course, baby.”

And so, you did. The delicate weight of your son soon filled your arms, not even bathed yet. He was swaddled in white sheets, and regardless of the mess he was still covered in, you kissed him, his sweet face, the wet hair atop his head.

When they bathed him, you nearly fell asleep. Your instincts told you to stay awake, to look after your baby. But it was easy to rest when you had so much trust in Jack. And while you slept, Jack watched him, held him when he was dry and warm in fresh sheets. To your husband, there was nothing more precious than this moment. The two most important people in the entire world, sleeping beneath his watchful eye, both safe and happy. He felt complete, like this accomplishment was what he’d been waiting for his entire life.

And he still feels that way, with you snoozing beside him in bed while Jasper sleeps peacefully in his crib. When Jack can’t sleep, he watches the monitor, watches the way his son relaxes, the way his little features move as he dreams. At only four months old, he does surprisingly well in his crib at night. Though, that didn’t mean he slept through the entire night.

Jack hears you stir beside him as it happens, your son wailing, crying out for one of you. When you turn over, he lays a hand on your bare shoulder, kissing it. “Don’t worry, honey. I got this one.”

“He wants milk.” You tell him in your dreamy state, groaning slightly.

“Well, then I’ll bring him to you.” Jack insists, standing from the bed.

It takes only a few steps for him to enter the nursery, what with it being right across the hall. As soon as he’s in the hall, the wailing grows louder, and louder still when he’s inside the room.

“Sh…” And immediately, his son is looking for him, those once blue eyes now fading to a pretty gray as they find his dad. “I’m here, honey.”

Scooping him into his arms helps Jasper to still, to catch his little baby breath. But he doesn’t stop whining quietly, wanting his mother. And so, Jack returns with the still-small bundle, finding you already sitting upright in bed.

With an exhausted smile on your face, you reach out for him, immediately bringing him to your breast. It’s become routine, coddling him in the night like this. It seems to be the only thing that calms him down.

“We need to start sleep training him.”

Jack settles beside you on the bed, watching his son latch. He nods with a sigh. “I know.”

“But I don’t want to do the cry-it-out method. I could never ignore him like that.” Glancing down, you watch as he suckles, his eyes closing peacefully. “I’m so glad I have you with me.”

At times, Jack’s age made things difficult. And other times, his experience was a blessing. Currently, the only difficulty you’ve been facing is his increasingly painful back and knees. After all, the man’s getting old. Bending down to play with his son or pick him up isn’t always the easiest thing, but he still wouldn’t trade it for the world, and neither would you. There isn’t anyone else on this planet that you’d rather have as a life partner. Regardless of his stiff muscles or joints, Jack does his best, doing everything he can to make sure his responsibilities are met. The last thing he’d want is for you to feel unsupported or lonely.

“You’ll always have me.” He promises quietly, kissing your temple. “Always.”

The rest you find yourself needing far too often, is disturbed by the coolness of breast milk drying on your shirt. Though, you’re grateful for the time you’ve been given. After all, you wouldn’t have these opportunities if it weren’t for your husband. Even in the evenings, when he comes home from work tired and sore, he still gives time to you and your baby. Every single day.

Stumbling through the darkness, you eventually find the lightswitch, allowing you to toss your soiled shirt while grabbing for your pump. It’s been relatively easy, breastfeeding, which you consider a godsend. You were worried sick it wouldn’t come in on time, or that Jasper might not latch, or that you might not produce enough for him. But the steady flow pouring into the plastic containers has put you at incredible ease.

Although you can barely think, you make your way out into the hall, searching for your husband and baby. The instincts you find yourself having are humorous, in a way. You never thought you’d be so concerned for another person’s safety, let alone two people. But whenever you find them, they’re alright, thriving, even. When they’re together, they’re happy, so happy and at peace. Just like they are now, snuggled up on the couch.

Walking closer, you grin, eyeing Jack from around the corner. It’s dark in the living room, the few candles and city lights barely illuminating the space. And nestled in the middle of the couch, are your boys, curled up together. Jack’s cradling Jasper while he sleeps in sturdy arms, one hand brushing over his small head. And he simply stares, eyes full of admiration and awe, so much love and adoration.

“Baby?”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, a small, sleepy smile on his lips. “Hey, darlin’.”

“How is he?” Now, you step into the room, sitting gently beside Jack. Peering over into his lap, a bright smile plumps between your cheeks.

“Perfect.” Jack whispers, gazing down at the small bundle. “He’s perfect. He even smiles in his sleep.”

Laughing gently, you nod. “I know.”

It’s Wednesday evening, a randomly thankful night, a night where Jack is almost always home. And on nights like this, he opted to watch the baby, letting you sleep and eventually cook. “Should I make dinner?”

“That sounds great, babycakes.” Simply, he looks up at you, that same expression of tired admiration written all over his face. It makes you grin, your heart feeling incredibly full as you lean in. And when you place one single kiss on his arching nose, he hums, eyes closing with contentment.

Motherhood has brought out a truly caring nature within you. It was always there, and always showed, but it’s been amplified by this new, tiny presence. You’re cooking more, especially with the newest change in the nightly routine. You’ve split the night into two shifts. With you staying home on maternity leave, Jack takes first shift, letting you sleep until around midnight or one o’clock. While you sleep, he cares for the baby, making sure the hours you get are good and solid. And when midnight comes around, you wake, taking on the responsibilities for the rest of the night while Jack rests. He has work, after all, and needs to keep himself sharp.

Jack has grown quite fond of your cooking, your nesting. It started early on in your pregnancy, and has only continued since Jasper’s birth. With more sleep, came more energy, happy to keep a clean home and meals on the table for your husband. It felt nice, falling into these traditional roles. It didn’t work for everyone, but it worked perfectly for you and Jack.

“What do we have today?” He asks in that sultry tone, wrapping both arms around your midsection. Pressing himself to your back, he gives your neck a sweet kiss, smiling.

“Stuffed peppers, asparagus, and steak.” You reply simply, surprising him with his favorite meal. Something he hasn’t eaten since the baby arrived. “Bought a new bottle for you, too.”

“A new bottle?” Jack replies, chest bouncing with a chuckle. “You spoil me, baby.”

“Yeah, well…” Turning around, you find yourself between the cage of his arms, face right in front of yours. “I try.”

And then you’re tilting your head up, lips meeting his. It’s soft and sweet, one turning into multiple. The timid appearance of his tongue makes your insides spark, your breath hitching quietly. And he notices.

“You like spoilin’ me?” Jack asks, hands lowering to your hips, sliding around to grab at your ass. Through the silk material of your robe, he can feel you, feel how soft and plush you are beneath his hands. He loved when you did this, wearing your robe and nothing else at the end of the night. You didn’t need a bra, not with you constantly breastfeeding.

But then the baby cries, a sudden, shrill noise, that drags your husband away. A small sigh leaves his mouth, giving your nose a peck before walking off to tend dutifully to his baby. Of course, you’d never ignore your son, but sometimes… you miss the days where it was only you and your husband. Your baby is a lovely thing and you can’t imagine life without him now. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to miss your old life, too. Things are just… different now, and it’s taking some getting used to.

Before the baby, Jack would’ve done so much more than just grab at your ass. He’d lean down to suck on your neck, pull apart your robe to grope your chest. Maybe even get on his knees and open your legs, stuff his face between your thighs until the food is burnt and your hips are shaking. He loves when you take care of him, and he loves taking care of you. But he hasn’t taken care of you like that since Jasper was born. He hasn’t put his mouth anywhere near your legs, but not because he doesn’t want to. The two of you have just been so goddamn busy, it’s hard to make time for sex when your schedule is full and you’re constantly exhausted.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack calls back from the living room. “Just hungry, needed a bottle.” And when he’s well fed and rested, he sleeps again, pretty much all the little nugget does. But when he’s awake, all he does is smile. He’s the happiest infant you’ve ever met; his laugh makes the world seem kind.

While watching from the kitchen, you witness Jack feed your son, stroking his head gently with his free hand. Being a dad is what Jack was meant for, it comes so naturally to him. And still… you can’t help but miss when he was yours.

If only you knew how he was feeling. Far too desperately, he yearned for your physical connection. He fantasized about it, dreamed about it. Your husband knew things would change after the baby, but wanting you is in his nature, it’s ingrained in his goddamn bones. But at the same time, Jack didn’t want to pressure you into anything. He figured when you were ready, you’d come to him. And he’s continued to wait for that day; wait, and wait, and wait. Any time spent alone was spent touching himself, satisfying the carnal arousal crawling through his body. In the shower, in bed when you stayed up too late with the baby, hell, even in his office. Fuck, he remembers when he used to bend you over his desk, use you to satisfy himself. Are those days completely gone?

Unfortunately, neither of you are sure. And with that somber news, and the ending of your quiet dinner, Jack heads off to bed. It’s accompanied by a sweet kiss and tender hug, soft whispers of love filling your ears. And when he’s finally gone, you can’t help but sigh. Not out of relief, but of guilt. Jack’s kisses are lovely but you want so much more than that.

And while you tend to your tiny son, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about that, about how neglected and forgotten Jack must feel. It brings you to tears, honestly. Sure your world is different now, much different, but that doesn’t mean the two of you have to change. That doesn't mean the passion in your relationship has to die. And at that realization, something stirs inside you, something full of determination and ambition. Jasper lays in your lap with a belly full of milk, lids closed as he rests. And once he’s safely in his bassinet, you make your way toward Jack.

Strutting down the hall, you find your nerves crawling with eager excitement, wanting to express these feelings to him. But the small sound of… something, stops you. A brief noise, muffled, but you know that noise. And immediately, your lips are quirking up, jaw beginning to drop. There’s no way, there’s no way you happened to catch him in the act. But with your interest piqued, you inch toward the bedroom door, listening closely.

Oh, he’s moaning, your husband is moaning. He’s touching himself, what else would he be doing? And then you’re wondering, why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he ask me? Although, you can understand why. He probably assumed you’d be too exhausted to do anything, likely having to resort to this for months now. And the realization tugs at your heart. He’s been neglected, you see that now.

Though, through all the guilt-ridden thoughts in your head, one thing shines through - I want to see him. Whatever his reaction is, you want to see this. You can’t even remember the last time you did anything sexual with Jack and to say that was a sin would be an understatement.

Quietly, you twist the knob, pushing forward as slowly as you can. Inch by inch, the noises get louder, deep and sultry moans sighing from your lover’s mouth. And as you continue forward, you’re wondering what exactly you’ll find, wondering what his reaction will be, and all too quickly… you’re met with it.

Widening eyes fall on the sight of Jack, shirtless and laying on the end of the bed, both feet flat on the ground. He’s got the fly on his jeans open, pants down just enough to have pulled himself entirely out. One hand curls around his shaft, thumb stroking the tip with diligent swirls. The other cups his scrotum, rolling his fingers and fondling the sensitive skin. His head is tossed back, mouth agape with his eyes shut. The veins in his forearms flex against taught muscles, thick fingers working himself closer to the edge.

An enormous huff releases from his chest then, eyes popping open to look directly at you. At first, you’d expected him to be shocked, maybe even embarrassed - he’s anything but.

The first word out of his mouth is an incredibly breathy, “Baby.”

Lips parting in shock, you take in the look on that handsome face. “Baby?”

“Honey,” He fucking whines, “Look at me. Look what you do to me.”

“Baby…” Walking over to the bed, you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand. The other cups his chin, an action that forces a high sigh out of him. All at once, you feel overcome with care; you want to take care of him, hold him, love him.

“I need you, babycakes. Daddy fucking needs you; haven’t had you in fuckin’ months.” He’s still touching himself just as eagerly, starting to fully stroke his length. “I know we have Jasper, sweetheart, I know, but… I just can’t stand it anymore.”

The entirety of the situation is rushing blood throughout your body, sending arousal through your veins. Jack’s sheer desperation is sending you over the edge, your breaths picking up with every passing second. You’re shocked he’s acting this way, and you’re drinking in every second of it.

“Baby, please. Please tell me.” But this… this confuses you. Tilting your head at him, you begin to question, “What?”

“Tell me if you need me.” He begs, he’s begging for you. “Do you need me as much as I need you, honey? Is it just me?”

“No, daddy.” Your head shakes, eyes staring into his own. “No, I need you. I need you…” Naturally, you lean in, lips slotting over his with the eager need to reassure him.

With great relief he leans into your kiss, both hands continuing to touch the places he needs to satisfy most. Instantly, he’s moaning, mouth opening so he can groan into your throat. And you take advantage of this, sliding your tongue into his mouth and taking control. He tastes like whiskey, like him, the liquor he’d just downed at dinner. Oftentimes, that taste would intermingle with the smoke of his cigar, a sensation you dearly miss; the taste and scent of Jack, of an older man.

“I need my little girl again.” He’s whispering, one hand reaching up to hold the back of your head. Pressing you further against his mouth, he hums, brushing back some of your hair. “Can I lick you, sugar? Please?” Jack’s voice is quiet, pleading with you between kisses.

“Now?”

“Now.” Comes his instant reply. “Right now. Fuck, haven’t tasted you since the baby came.”

“Daddy,” You’re saying it with such fondness; you haven’t been able to call him that in so long, not like this.

“Sit on me,” Jack insists. “Come sit on my face, you perfect fuckin’ angel.”

Both hands are then moving to your robe, undoing the tie in the front of pushing it from your shoulders. Your grin is immediate and bright, shrugging it onto the ground. And just like that, you’re naked, in all your postpartum glory. But Jack doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s only grown more attracted to you. Your growing body, full breasts and plush thighs, your soft tummy and grabable backside.

“C’mon,” Your lover mutters, urging you up by your hips. “C’mon, baby.”

“I, I need to shower, baby.” Part of you worries - you’re insecure. You showered last night but haven’t been able to today, not with the baby.

“You think I give a fuck about that?” Suddenly, that rough, demanding voice is back. His face turns stern, hand reaching up for your throat out of mere reflex. “Get up and here, and put your pussy on daddy’s face.”

That authoritative tone has you following his every command, and he knows it. You’re practically brainless when he’s like this, especially when you haven’t experienced it in so long. Without another thought, you’re crawling over him, feeling those broad hands roam your bare body.

“That’s it…”

He doesn’t even let you hover, doesn't allow you to become truly comfortable before he’s dragging you down by his grip on your hips. Instantly, his mouth is devouring you, opening wide and slurping on the slick leaking down to your thighs. Falling forward, you catch yourself on both hands, staring down at Jack. Puffing out frantic breaths, your jaw drops, brows furrowing when you feel that talented mouth suction to your clit.

“J-Jack, baby.” Gulping, you see those dark brown eyes snap open, one hand lifting to spank your backside. “Daddy.”

With a satisfied hum, his lids flutter shut, broad palm rubbing the space he just stung. Jesus, does he love this, he fucking missed this. Jack used to be such a whore for you sitting on his face, and he hasn’t experienced it in nearly an entire year.

“So fucking wet for me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” Nodding, you whine out from above, feeling his tongue fuck itself into your hole. “Yeah…”

“Pretty girl, perfect little thing.” He’s grabbing onto you in thick handfuls, kneading your ass and thighs, rubbing his face back and forth like some satisfied animal. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

This praise feels so foreign, yet… it’s familiar, so overtly familiar you tear up from the memory of how saturated you used to be in it. Your head tosses back, throat gasping dryly as he tongues your clit, holding you down onto his mouth. You can feel his jaw moving, opening and closing as he slurps against your lips, drinking you in.

“You like when I touch you, honey? Like how I make you feel?”

“I’ve missed it.” Fisting his dark brown hair, you gasp out a flurry of high pants, whispering shakily to him, “I’m so close.”

It’s been minutes, a handful of seconds, and he already has you. That handsome face between your thighs, those broad palms grabbing at your hips. And without even realizing it, you’re rocking against him, sliding your slick lips over his mouth and face, and he’s reveling in it.

“Give it to me.” Is all he manages out, voice gravelly and wet before you’re cumming in his mouth.

Just like before, like he used to before your baby, he laps at you, sucking every ounce of it into his mouth. His moans are soft, vibrating up through your body. And while you squirm your way through euphoria, he holds you steady, hands gripping either side of your hips.

“Quiet, honey.” Jack then grunts, sighing dramatically before clearing his throat. He then gives your clit a broad, slow lick, asking you, “Be quiet for me. Don’t wake the baby.”

“Okay,” Both eyes are closed, head resting low with your chin on your chest. The lungs beneath your ribs are dying for breath, pretty lips parted as you roll your wet heat over his lips and chin. “Daddy…”

“Fuck me,” Turning his head, he mouths at your thighs, licking and sucking and biting. His face is dripping with you, lips and mustache glistening. “Babycakes, please.”

Heavy lids rise, glancing down at your lover. And the sight you’re met with is his desperate expression, brows folded up in the center, tongue poking out to lick both lips.

“Will you touch me, honey? Suck on me?”

A smile breaks out across your face, head tilting back with a small, breathy laugh. Both of your hands then slide over his head, fingers running through that dark brown hair.

“Please, baby.” He begs sweetly, kissing your thigh. “Before you have to go back out there. I need you, need you so bad, I - ”

Covering his mouth with the palm of your hand, you meet his eyes once again. “You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”

His mention of the baby snaps you out of that blissful haze, crawling down his body like your life depends on it. Jack sighs when you settle on your knees, spreading his legs a little wider for you. And the sight of him makes you hungry, veins throbbing, shaft slick from the steady faucet from his tip. A deep red colors the head of his cock, drooling for any sense of touch, any sense of attention.

Lips parting, you drag your flattened tongue along the underside of his cock, resting back against his toned stomach. He tries his best to watch you, he really does, but when you do that, his head immediately drops back. Something truly possesses you then, wanting to show your appreciation for him, for the man that keeps you happy and protected, for the man that cares so wonderfully for your small family.

“Jesus Christ…” One hand smoothes over the back of your head, body shivering from the slow, worshiping suck you give to the tip of his cock. Your tongue pets at the slit, mouth watering from the taste you’ve been deprived of. “Just like that, sugar.”

But while you’re focusing on taking him into your mouth and very quickly down your throat, Jack is focused on you. He’s so enamored with you, with how perfect you are for him. Always so willing and eager; he swears he never knew what good sex was until he met you. He can remember the first time you blew him, back when he’d invited you to his beach house so many years ago. At that point in time, he thought life couldn’t get any better. But then he put a ring on your finger, and then he put a baby inside you, and he knows there’s only more to come. With you at his side, he knows he’ll thrive.

Unexpectedly, Jack blurts out, “Baby wait, wait.”

Removing yourself gives you time to catch your breath, staring up at him with confusion. But then he’s grabbing your arms and pulling you up to him again.

“Come up here,” Your husband requests, tone low and seductive. “Come up here…”

Wanting to make him happy, and do as much as you can during this precious time, you comply. Your knees rest on either side of his pelvis as you crawl over him once again, hands cupping both cheeks as you bring yourself in. And with an emphatic huff, Jack meets your lips.

“You don’t like my mouth anymore, daddy?” You’re only teasing, smirking against his lips.

Grabbing the back of your head, Jack bites at your bottom lip. “I’m gonna need you to shut your mouth.” His other hand grabs his shaft, angling it up between your legs. “I need to be inside you, so fucking bad.”

Without care, he thrusts upward while pulling you down, sliding the thick curve of his head through your lips. The sensation shocks you briefly, jaw dropping, but eyes never leaving his.

“Just like that, just like that, honey. Sit on me. You don’t have to do anything, baby doll, just lay here. Lay on me and let me fuck you.”

Words escape your mind, your response consisting of a trusting nod. It’s the slide of his cock that truly knocks the breath from your chest, thick and heavy against your most sensitive skin. Every inch forces you to feel the stretch, the veins rubbing against your walls, the head throbbing timidly inside your heat.

“Oh my fucking god,” Head dropping back, Jack groans, almost too loud. “I need this, I’ve needed this so bad.”

Falling onto his chest, your hands reach for him, face burying into the curve of his neck. “I know, daddy.”

Fully inside, he pauses, reveling in the sensation. It’s like coming home, feeling warm and snug and welcome. Large hands then roam your thighs, your ass and sides, rising to your chest. One grabs at your swollen tit, thumb rubbing over the nipple while his free hand lands on your hip. Keeping you still, Jack begins rocking his pelvis up, slow and steady, feeling you pepper his throat in sweet kisses.

“Beautiful fuckin’ thing,” He drawls, southern tone thick and sleepy. Turning his head, he mumbles into your hair, “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Daddy,” A flurry of emotions fill your body, hands holding onto his shoulder and neck while he pumps himself into you. “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I haven’t, haven’t given this to you.” You’re crying softly against him, feeling him dive inside with every thrust.

“Sh… no, no, no.” Jack says to you, petting the back of your head. “No, baby. Don’t worry about that. I have you now.”

“Always,” Nodding, you gasp, feeling his movements become more erratic. “You always have me.”

“No matter what,” He agrees, breaths heavy and humid against the side of your face. “Always, babycakes. Daddy’s here, I’m always here.” Jack grunts then, back arching slightly. “C-Christ, fuck, I can’t do this, baby, not much longer.”

“I don’t care, I promise.” Bouncing down against his thrusts, you do your best to keep it soft and quiet, but it’s difficult when you’re connecting with your husband like this. “I want it, baby.”

“Oh, sugar, I love you.” It’s the last thing he says before forcing out a rugged moan, doing his best to contain it. “I fucking love you.”

Sitting down completely, you rock gently over him, feeling his warmth beginning to fill you. At first, you worry about bruises, feeling how harshly he grabs onto you. Fingers press into your hips and thighs, chest puffing out a handful of forceful breaths. And still, you’re kissing on his neck, licking the salty skin with sweet pets.

“I love you.”

Neither of you thought this is how it would happen, your first physical connection after the baby. Though, it fits. Your entire relationship has been full of spur-of-the moment, passionate sex. It makes sense that this is how you’d come back to each other.

Jack’s head turns, finding your cheek and nuzzling into it until you lift your head enough for your lips to connect. It’s a slow, loving kiss, melting into the other, bodies relaxing together.

“Honey, I missed you.”

“I’ll do better, daddy.”

“We,” He corrects, “It’s the two of us, babycakes. We’ll always make it work, right? Can you promise me that?”

“I promise, of course I promise.”

A long, relaxed sigh then floats into the air, leaving both your mouths. “My girl,” Jack says, rubbing your back. “My perfect girl.”

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