AN: Seriously, I love your reviews Ashley! They're always really nice and fun to read. No, I haven't read the Throne of Glass series but a couple of my friends have now recommended it so I was thinking about giving it a go. It's always nice when your ship looks like its about to become canon. And yes! Zealous is a fab word and needs used more often :) I did consider twins for a while but then I decided on one baby. But then I thought that, actually, twins might be cute. But then I thought it would be more affective with one baby. Long story short, I'm pretty sure I'm giving them one baby but it may yet be twins depending on how many more times my mind changes. But at the minute, I'm writing with one baby in mind. Since they don't know the sex, I'm using "they/they'll/their" as gender neutral pronouns for the one baby. Sounds nicer that "it/it's/it'll" hahaha

Rated M for sexual content

Celebration

It was two weeks into the new year but Rory was more focussed on how many weeks into her pregnancy she was. Six weeks. It had already been three weeks since she told Stephen and the others and the time had flown. She hadn't told her family in Louisiana yet because she wanted to see their reactions rather than hear them. She and Stephen had booked a flight over and they left in two weeks. She'd be two months pregnant by then. She could hardly believe it.

Rory had lain on the bed, fully clothed and waiting. She thought it was high time she and Stephen really celebrated her pregnancy alone. The chess board had lain set up between her side of the bed and his. She had remembered suggesting strip chess to him but she had fallen asleep and he had lovingly wrapped her up for the night. Now she was wide awake and the pieces were moved as they both concentrated on the game. She had gotten better at chess and was proving a fair match for Stephen. He was a good teacher.

His socks and shoes were off as were hers and they both eagerly awaited the moment when the next piece left the board. It was Rory's move and Stephen watched her carefully, the look in his eyes the perfect mixture of adoration, love and lust. She felt his eyes crawling over her body and she smirked as she looked at the board. She almost wanted to make a wrong move so he would take one of her pieces and thus, an item of her clothing. Almost. But she wanted to undress him as much as she wanted him to undress her, so she concentrated on what the best move should be. She moved her Knight slowly, unaware of the Bishop that endangered it. She let go of the piece and heard Stephen chuckle. She looked up to see him smirking and then watched as his Bishop took her Knight. She bit her lip and looked back up at him. She grinned.

He reached over and kissed her cheek as his hands lifted the hem of her top. His hands worked up her torso, making sure to brush over the scar on her stomach lovingly as he lifted her top and brought it over her head. He threw it somewhere across the room, his eyes never leaving hers, his smile conveying every ounce of love he had for her. "Your move," he said with a smirk as he backed away once more.

She narrowed her eyes at him comically before she scrutinised the board. She needed to get his shirt off. She would accept no other defeat until she could slowly, teasingly, unbutton his shirt and slip it off of his strong shoulders...

She realised that her throat had gone a little dry and swallowed, returning her attention to the game. She smiled when she saw a move. With a look of triumph, she moved her Castle to take the Bishop that had vanquished the Knight. She couldn't help but wonder if Stephen had planned that because he didn't look overly upset; more like he expected it. Either way, it was small victory for her and womankind because that move signalled the end of Stephens shirt.

She gently crawled across the bed to him, around the board, and stopped in front of him. She placed a hand on his cheek and felt the beginnings of stubble. He turned his face to kiss the hand on it before it was removed. It trailed slowly down his neck to the top button of his shirt where it was joined by her other hand. He watched her as she concentrated on each button, opening each with deft fingers that then feathered over his chest. She pulled the bottom of the shirt loose from his jeans, undid the final button and she slipped it off of him and threw it in the same direction he had thrown her top.

She placed her hands on the side of his stomach and pulled herself forward for a kiss that lasted only a second. Her fingers traced his own scar, left by a ghost as hers had been, as she pulled away slowly. "Your turn," she whispered as she crossed back over to her side of the board. His breathing was heavy and he cleared his throat.

He pondered his next move as hard as he pondered what he would take off of her next. Would he take her bra and have her play topless? Or would that be far too distracting? Should he take her skirt and leave her in her underwear? Her bra was black. He wondered if her knickers were too. And then he realised that he was not paying any attention to the board in front of him. He cleared his throat again. He moved a piece, she moved a piece, he moved another and then he realised he'd made a mistake. Not that he was upset by that. Not this time. He watched as Rory's Bishop took his Castle. She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. She wasted no time.

She crawled back over, placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him onto his back. She hovered above him, hands on his chest and then they moved down, down, down to the buttons on his jeans. With a devious gleam in her eyes, she gently stroked him through his jeans before undoing them. He sighed at the touch and lifted his hips so that she could pull the jeans off of him. She threw them away and murmured appreciatively at the sight of his arousal through his boxers before crawling back to her side of the bed. She cocked her eyebrows at him, encouraging him to make his move. He sat himself back up and looked at the board. He would not mess up again. Rory's skirt had to go.

And go it did. It was simple. It wasn't the move he had planned but it was the one he wanted to do. They both knew it was a pointless one. He took one of her pawns from the board. She chuckled as he made his way over to her and she lay down to let him unfasten the zip on her skirt and slowly, slowly pull it off of her. Her knickers did indeed match her bra. He sat gazing down at her adoringly before moving back to his side of the bed. "I believe it's your move."

She giggled as she sat upright. She wanted more. She needed more. She took one of his pawns. She put her Castle in danger from his Queen by doing so but she didn't care. She hurried over and removed his boxers as carefully and as slowly as she had removed his jeans. He lay before her now, wearing only his glasses and his wedding ring. She moved her hands up his legs, tracing her fingers lightly over his cock and placing the smallest possible kiss on the head. Stephens head fell back against the pillows as he exhaled slowly. When she scooted over back to her side of the bed, he bit his lip and sat up to face her, a devilish grin on his face.

It was Stephen's move and there was no hesitation. Rory's Castle was gone and her bra went with it. He reached behind her, never breaking eye contact, expertly undid the claps and slipped it off of her. With a flick of his wrist, the bra was thrown into whatever corner it landed. He kissed each of her nipples, biting them gently as he kneaded her breasts. And then he was gone. She made her move, breathing as heavily as he was. He made his and her second Knight became a casualty of war. She sighed happily as he came back over to her. She lay down once more. He grinned down at her as his hands ran up her legs and across her thighs. He ran one finger gently ran over her clothed clit and he was delighted but the vocal response she gave. He moved slowly, and she lifted her hips to help them off. And then she lay before him, naked save for the heart shaped pendant around her neck and the wedding and engagement rings on her finger. She really was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He spread her legs gently and leant down. As slow as he possibly could, his long fingers parted her folds and he extended his tongue. He licked her clit and she inhaled sharply. Another lick and then another and she began to buck under him. And then he stopped. "Stephen," she groaned. "Please...don't stop..."

He chuckled as he sat up and laced his fingers through hers, softly pulling her up into a sitting position. "We have a game to finish." He motioned his head to the almost forgotten chess board.

The game didn't take long to finish and, to the surprise of both them, considering that she had stopped trying, Rory won. She smiled, picked up the board and pieces and placed them on the floor. They could sort that out later. She crawled over to him once more and removed the final article of clothing. She lovingly placed both hands on his cheeks and gently kissed him before she slowly pulled off his glasses, folded them and placed them on the bedside table. "I win," she whispered. She didn't say it seductively, or triumphantly. She said it as gently as she would say "I love you" and they both knew that was exactly what she meant.

He slowly lay down and pulled her with him, his eyes full of love. She straddled him and slowly lowered her hips down onto his. They both gasped breathlessly as he entered her. Her hands were on the pillow on either side of his head, her arms propping her up above him. He looked up at her, overwhelmed. He was never a lucky man. But here he was with the most beautiful woman in the world and he was married to her. And she was carrying their child. Now he was the luckiest man, and the most grateful. The necklace she wore hung between them. Stephen gently raised his head to kiss the heart on it before raising further, catching her lips in his. And then she fully lowered her weight onto him, both of them moaning into each other's mouths as he slid further inside of her. The hands on the pillow moved to his cheeks as they kissed.

He wrapped his arms around her, one on her back and one in her hair as she gently started rocking her hips. They moved slowly, their moans quiet, their gasps breathless, their lips meeting in endless kisses, "I love you" whispered into each other's ears. It was slow and gentle and soft. The desperate need from earlier was replaced by the need to celebrate. Celebrate the fact that they came into each other's lives, that he was alive, that they were married, that they were having a child together and, most of all, that they would always be together as one.

Rory remembered thinking about the figure she had envisioned by her side when she came to London. That figure had always been, and would always be, Stephen.