There were few things you were sure about: that you were without doubt Y/N, that the love of your life was Leone Abbacchio and that you wanted a baby.
The first time you proposed him to try to conceive he wasn’t enthusiast. He didn’t think he would have been suited to be a father; he was already surprised to be a good husband, thinking of being also a good father was almost too much. You, however, didn’t give up: you saw how he was way softer than just few years ago, how he was getting better and better, now that he was coping in a healthy way with his past traumas. Of course, the path wasn’t without obstacles: sometimes it happened a day when he seemed to be the old Abbacchio, the one who was always gloomy and in a bad mood. Even in those moments, you didn’t give up: you knew that the Abbacchio you loved was behind that curtain of pain and self-hate. Moments like these were the ones when your bond grew stronger, as he saw your determination and love, finding in you an anchor that kept him safely tied to the real world, and you could see how hard he tried to improve himself, with an inner strength that always left you stunned.
You always told him so. You remembered him all the steps he took, all the good things he did in those years. You reminded him that he was a good man at heart, even if his job wasn’t the one of a good man. You knew that, deep in his heart, there was still a sparkle of that young policeman full of hopes and dreams. And, slowly, Abbacchio started to believe it. That, maybe, he wasn’t so rotten and bad as he always thought. That, maybe, he wasn’t beyond salvation: all in all, you loved him, and if you loved him then there was something good in him, right? And that, finally, maybe… maybe he could be a good father. With you near, maybe he could make it.
Finally, after months, he told you yes.
He was agitated. What if there had been problems? What if the pregnancy hadn’t been easy and good? What if the baby, once old enough to understand the world which surrounded them, had hated him? What if, what if…
His crazed thought stopped, when your lips pressed on his. His violet irises reflected in your half lidded eyes and his heart skipped a beat. You seemed even more beautiful than usual… maybe it was for what you were going to do?
“Stay with me, Leone. Body, soul and mind.” you whispered on his lips, as you always did when he had one of his crisis. The words to bring him back to you.
They worked this time too, finally taming his thoughts. Now all his attention was on you and the way you were pressing so deliciously on him. His hands travelled down your bare back, brushing the hem of your panties, smirking a little when he felt under his fingertips your goosebumps. Good…
“So… today’s an ideal day, uh?” he murmured, grabbing your hips and lifting you up, lightly growling when your legs enveloped his waist and your hands gripped at his shoulders. You grinned, giggling when his hands slid from your hips to your bottom, squeezing it.
“It is… or so the fertility test says. We have to do our best, hm?” the last syllables got lost in a breathy sigh, as his lips ran on your jaw and neck, leaving behind a trail of purple marks. He hummed on your throat and the sound reverberated down to your core, making you instinctively grind on his more and more prominent erection. You shivered again, as another growl escaped his throat, this time followed by a bite on your shoulder.
“Be patient, honey…” he murmured, slowly carrying you to bed, while peppering your neck with kisses and small bites. You already felt over the edge and this wasn’t even the beginning…
You expected him to playfully toss you on the bed, like he always did, chuckling at your fake protests, but, this time, he gently laid you down, closely following your body. His lips never abandoned your sweet skin, as his hands now roamed on your thighs, softly brushing and squeezing. His unusual gentleness made you, for the first time, really understand the gravity of what you were going to do. You were going to create a life, to love and cherish another human being. The product of your love.
His lips on yours took you back to your bed and your husband. You smiled and arched your body, as his hands caressed your chest, still cutely enveloped in your nicest bralette, and then your abdomen, down and down, ‘till curling on your cunt. You gasped, when his fingers started to gently stroke you without removing your pants; the friction of the fabric did its magic and he, evil as always, knew perfectly how to move his fingers and where brushing mostly intensely. You were putty in his hands in a matter of minutes.
“Do you think you’re ready, hm?” his hot breath fanned on your ear, making you shiver and squirming. You bit your lips not to moan aloud, making him chuckle, as his fingers stroked you with more strength. He felt a wave of arousal running down his abdomen, making his length twitching when he retracted his fingers, now completely coated in your juices.
“I’d say yes…” he teased you more, with a grin that made you whine and pout, even if you wanted nothing more than flip him on his back and erase that smirk to replace it with a grimace of pleasure. But his body was heavy on yours, keeping you down, not allowing you to push him back and do what you wanted. Evil, evil Leone.
He kissed your pout, smiling when he felt your lips bending in a matching smile, but it soon turned into a grunt when your hands slid in his silver bangs, yanking them the way he liked. His eyes lost the playful light and got darker, as lust and hunger replaced the previous sparkle.
“Do you want to go on or not, Leo?” you provoked him, as one of your hand softly brushed his bare chest and abdomen, savouring his twitching muscles under your fingertips, ‘till you sank your hand in his boxers, firmly gripping his hard length and giving it a couple of strokes. You smirked in satisfaction as his mouth twisted in a grimace of pure pleasure and his length throbbed in your hand. You perfectly knew that your touches and stroked weren’t enough to make him cum and that soon he would have, finally, lost his patience and just finally gone to the main act.
And so it happened: after few more strokes, he just yanked down your panties, throwing them away, and shoved down his boxers too, smashing his mouth on yours while stroking his length on your folds, coating it with your juices. Your mewls got lost in his mouth, your hands grabbed his shoulders when he finally filled you, stretching you so deliciously that you almost came just by this.
“Not yet, tesoro, not yet.” he murmured on your mouth, gritting his teeth as he felt your inner walls clenching around him. He stayed still for a bit, until your spasms disappeared, and then, finally, he started to move.
You expected the usual rough love you both liked so much, made of hard movements and bites and hair tugged, but your husband wasn’t of this idea. His movements were gentle, soft, as he rhythmically filled you. His lips cuddled yours, as his hands cupped your face, softly brushing your cheeks. It was like… like he was discovering you once again for the first time. Every touch was gentle and intense, every kiss slow and overwhelming and it made your toes curl. You enveloped his waist with your legs, crossing your feet on his lower back, as to keep him nearer, as to lock together your bodies for eternity. Your fingers interweaved with his, tightening their grip every time he filled you again and again, following his rhythm. He was hitting all your sweet spots, slightly changing his angle from time to time, earning a louder mewl from you that, as the others, got lost in his mouth. You were feeling him everywhere, all your senses were dominated by him. And as you thought about it, about how sweetly you were united now, and about what this union would have create, you tightened around him, arching your back, as, finally, you were crushed by waves of pure pleasure and bliss that blinded you for a couple of seconds that felt like an eternity.
In your brightly blindness, you felt him burying his face in the crock of your neck, to muffle a deep moan, as his hands flew to firmly grip your hips. He buried himself even deeper in you, growling when your walls milked him ‘till the last drop. You gasped again, feeling so deliciously full, sloppily smiling as you shakingly brushed his hair. He cracked open one eye, panting, briefly smiling at you, before slowly getting up, even if he was still buried inside you, as not to let even a drop go wasted.
“You know… I think it worked.” you murmured, lazily tracing some arabesques on his chest. He hummed, slowly sliding off, and you hissed at the sudden emptiness, but then he hugged you tightly, making you smile. Ah, how nice…
“You think so?” he murmured in your hair, keeping you close. You nodded, nestling again on his chest, relishing in his warmth and familiar scent that always made you feel at home.
“Hm. Call it sixth sense.” you replied, yawning. Abbacchio huffed a small chuckle, covering you both with the blanket and immediately hugging you again, ending your whining protests.
“If you say so… in case, we could try again, what do you think?” you huffed a laugh, without even the need to open your eyes to see the wolfish smirk that was proudly displayed on his lips.
“I like the idea.” you kissed him again, sweetly, one more time, before leaning again on his chest and finally slowly drifting into sleep, one hand safely resting on your belly, as it was subconsciously protecting the baby that, soon, would be nestling in it.