“And you like it.”
She moaned when I rocked up into her, only the thin jersey between us.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I like it.”
My mouth found hers, and my hands were everywhere. Pushing up the jersey, squeezing the soft curves of her ass, and running along her thighs, back, and sides. She was still warm from her shower and tasted like the lemon pie she’d made earlier, a dessert she said reminded her of me—bright, sweet, tart, and just a little dangerous.
I shoved the jersey over her breasts and fucking groaned when I saw the faint drops of milk glistening at the tips. My mouth covered one instantly, licking, sucking, and gently biting, and her whole body trembled in my arms.
“Oh, Micah!”
After snacking on each one, I pulled back a little and admired my gorgeous wife. “You know, you’re sexy as fuck when you’re carrying my kid.”
She groaned. “Don’t even start.”
“What? You’re hot. And the thought of you pregnant makes me feral.”
She swatted my chest. “Micah.”
I pushed two fingers inside her and felt her clamp down, wet and tight. Made for me. She arched, breath catching, and when her eyes met mine, I saw it—the hunger. The need. The surrender.
“Fucking need you,” I groaned, quickly removing my pants with one hand.
She paused and looked at me with so much love that my heart almost burst from my chest. “I need you, too.”
I withdrew slowly, then thrust hard enough to make her cry out, though she muffled the sound with her hand.
A sudden squawk crackled through the baby monitor beside the bed.
We both froze.
She sighed. I groaned.
And then…silence.
Our baby girl quieted, mercifully soothed.
I bent my head, pressing my forehead to hers. “We’ve got five minutes. Max.”
“Then get to it, linebacker.”
I dove back in, fucking her with three fingers and pushing her higher. I was leaking a fucking mess on the sheets and didn’t give a shit.
She writhed and mewled, sounding distressed, but unable to form coherent words.
“What do you want, baby?” I growled.
“You,” she gasped. “Inside me.”
Rolling on top of her, I let the head of my cock tease her entrance and demanded, “Who do you belong to? Who owns this pussy?”
She growled, and her nails dug into my shoulders. “You, dammit! Now will you freaking own it instead of just talking a good game?”
Grinning, I pressed her thighs apart, lined up, and drove home in one slow, brutal stroke. She choked on a moan. “Micah—yes?—”
Her body clamped around me, slick and welcoming. I stayed buried for a minute, grinding deeper. Then I pulled halfway outand slammed back in, gritting my teeth as heat exploded up my spine.
I took her mouth in a punishing kiss and moved. Rougher and faster, every stroke a silent promise that I’d never stop wanting her like this. The stretch marks across her hips, the softness she hadn’t had before—none of it changed a damn thing.
