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settled her cheek against his shoulder.  “As outdated as the thought may be, I would like for you to be my wife when you birth my child, not just my baby’s mama.”
    “We still have months to go—”
    “We might get shipped out,” Ulrich reminded her quietly in her ear.
    Rosita tightened her arms around him and looked at Bevin and Tim.  She spoke silently to her best friend, who nodded her dark head and settled further into her husband’s embrace.
    It’s so worth it .
    To be honest, Rosita had never wanted a huge wedding, and all the really important people were here.  Tamara and Courtney would understand; hell, they’d been gnats in her ear asking her why she and Ulrich hadn’t made it official yet.  Even Patrice had seemed supportive, although their relationship was strained because of their obvious common denominator being Ulrich; but Patrice was happy with her new man, at least seemed to be, helped by the fact her parents were happy with him as well.
    Patrice made her decision.
    It was time for Rosita to make one as well.
    “Your heart is safe with me,” she ensured him, her mouth next to his ear.
    Ulrich chuckled, bringing her closer.  “That’s good.  What about my hand?”
    “Your hand?”
    “Yeah, baby, will that be safe with you too?  Will you let me have yours in return?”
    She didn’t answer immediately, taking his hands and settling them on her belly before covering them with hers.
    Rosita looked into those glorious black eyes of Ulrich’s and smiled.
    “Yes.”

One Evening
     
    Rosita hadn’t been this nervous…ever.  Not even her first time had filled her with such knee-freezing trepidation.  She closed her eyes as she felt Ulrich move behind her, unable to stop her body from quaking when his soft, full lips touched the curve of her bare shoulder while he pulled down the zipper of her strapless, ecru organza dress.
    “ Tú eres tan hermosa, chica, ” he whispered against her trembling cinnamon skin.  “You make me breathless.”
    That feeling was certainly mutual, and she sagged against him, his tender hands moving along the front of her gaping gown, kneading her tummy.  It was now eight-months big, and their child was still, as if knowing they needed a moment to themselves.
    A moment to consummate their wedded union.
    Rosita raised her arms and wound them around his neck as he moved his mouth up the column of her throat to her jaw.  His hands pushed down the wealth of fabric covering her body, revealing her silk strapless bra and her silk bikini panties.  She watched his toasted-almond hands drift over the darker brown of her abdomen, the gold of his ring on his left hand glinting faintly in the room.  His tongue snaked out to tease her pulse point and her breath caught.
    “Ulrich…”
    “Yes, Mrs. Brown?”
    Rosita’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her nipples growing tighter at the use of her new title.  Mrs. Brown .  She never knew being called a Mrs. Somebody would sound so erotic.
    His hands left her stomach to unhook her bra.  Ulrich moaned, cupping her breasts gently in his hands.
    “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, right before kissing her cheek.
    Rosita didn’t care he was still fully dressed and she was only in her panties and thigh-highs, she’d never felt so beautiful in her entire life, and her earlier anxiousness melted into full-out arousal.
    “Look at what I did to you,” Ulrich muttered, bending his head over her shoulder so he could glimpse her swell.  “Look at what I did, Rosa.”
    She turned her head and kissed hair of the goatee lining his jaw.  “Look at what you did, Daddy.”
    Groaning, Ulrich met her lips with his, his fingers sliding beneath the elastic of her panties, over the bald mons of her vagina, to her well-saturated slit.  His thick fingers thrummed her clit, and Rosita rocked against the rhythm he set.
    “So wet for me,” he whispered against her mouth.
    “ Tan mojada por ti ,” Rosita