Unfit to be a mother

Unfit to be a Mother: 21 ~Christmas~

            “Just another week,” I murmured. It’d only been two weeks since I’d had Fey and Dylan and I were longing for each other. I needed his touch to wash away any doubts I had. I needed him to douse my burning desire. But I also needed to heal. I didn’t think I’d lust after Dylan so much when we finally had Fey, but having Fey made me need him more. For reasons I couldn’t explain.

            “I can’t wait that long,” He told me huskily, gripping my hips. He pressed his lips roughly against mine and kissed me with a raging passion. “I need you, Jenna.”

            “I—I can’t…” My mind said one thing, my body said another. I groaned. I pushed my hips up and arched my back. He groaned. I was panting. It was amazing—the effect that just being close to him had on me. His hands slid under the shirt I had stolen out of his bag. I was wearing it with super short boxers. He hand the shirt off in seconds.

            Dylan kissed me hungrily, pressing me a close to him as he could. His fingers started pulling at the waistband of my boxers. He looked at me questioningly, waiting for an answer. I bit my lip and nodded. He rolled us over so he was hovering over me. His kisses were aggressive and lust filled, though I could feel the love and passion behind it.

            I needed Dylan too, so I didn’t stop him when he pulled my boxers off, leaving me in only my panties. I hooked a finger in his boxers, which was the only article of clothing he wore, and tugged at them. I was desperate for him. I moaned as his hands roamed over my body touching me just right. I slid my hands over his muscular chest. I liked that he didn’t have super defined abs but that you could still feel the muscles underneath.

            He ground against me. I burned for him. “Dylan,” I groaned, “Just do it. Take me already!”

            “I wanted it to be special this time,” He told me.

            “Make it special next time,” I practically cried. “I need you now.”

            He nodded and quickly slid my panties off. His boxers came off next. His breath was warm against my neck. Our bodies came together—and Fey started crying.

            “Dammit!” I swore. He let out an exasperated sigh and got out of bed, slipped back into his boxers and took care of our daughter. I put my shirt back on and rolled over with a huff. All I wanted was to be with Dylan. I knew I couldn’t blame her, but I did.

            “I’m sorry, Jenna,” He whispered, rocking a now changed Fey to sleep.

            “It’s fine,” I replied in an equally low voice. “We don’t have protection anyway.” As much as I wanted Dylan, I didn’t want another baby just yet. I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes. “Love you, Dylan.”

            “Love you too, Jenna.” He kissed my forehead and went back to rocking Fey to sleep. I rolled so I was lying on my stomach and drifted back to sleep, wishing Fey hadn’t woken up.

*                                                           *                                                           *

            “Merry Christmas!” My father cried, flinging the door open.

            Fey immediately started crying. “Dad! We just got her back to sleep!” Literally fifteen minutes before, we had just gotten her back to sleep. I jumped up and walked over to my baby, painfully aware that my Dad was standing in the doorway and that I was wearing nothing under my shirt that only came to my mid-thigh. “We’ll be down in a few. Just give us time to get showered and dressed.” I picked her up and sat on the edge of my bed. “Out, daddy-poo. We’ll be down for breakfast.”