I get it now. He’s trying to be noble. Sweet. Careful.
Fuck that. I need him to be possessive and crazy in the bedroom.
I trail my fingers over his cock, staring right at him. The fabric between us is an annoying barrier, but his eyes still darken. I take great satisfaction from watching his jaw clench as he tries to control himself.
Good. Let him remember what he’s missing by being considerate.
“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m fragile.” I rub him harder and his breath stutters. “I need my husband to take care of me.” I kiss his jaw, brushing over the roughness of his stubble. I want that grazing my thighs while his tongue is swirling over my clit. “I don’t like starting the day without you inside me. I need you to love me, Jensen.” My voice is softer now. “I don’t want to lose us in this.”
“We haven’t lost anything,” he assures me, grasping my chin, his eyes locked on my mouth. “Don’t think for a second I’m not picturing you bent over this counter, begging me to fill you.”
Fuck. Yes. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.
He slides a hand under the hem of my shirt, brushing over my panties. Heat pouring through my core as he pushes the fabric aside and drags his fingers through my wetness.
“You’re carrying my baby, Mia.” His voice is raw, guttural, undone. I love it. “I want to take care of you, even as I want to fuck you every second of this pregnancy.” He trails his nose along my jaw, inhaling me like he’s committing me to memory. I melt into him, so ready for him, so desperate. “I want to kiss every stretch mark, worship every inch of your body as it grows. I want to breed you again before you’ve even finished carrying this one.”
My hips flex against his hand, chasing his touch. Desire coils in my belly, building to that familiar crescendo only he can give me. I grind against him. More. Deeper. I want it all.
“Do you know what it does to me?” He thrusts deeper into my pussy, and a helpless gasp tears out of me so hard my lungs forget how to drag in breath. “You’re pregnant and I put it there. Fuck. That undoes me, sweetheart.” My nails dig into his biceps as my legs wobble. “You’re mine completely now.”
I’ve always been his, but he’s right. This feels different. It’s him and me tied together by more than marriage. We’ve created a whole new life out of our love for each other.
But if I’m his, then he needs to treat me like that. I don’t want to be wrapped in softness.
“Don’t treat me like glass,” I breathe. “If I don’t want it, or I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”
“I want that promise, Mia.” His palm grinds against me, dragging a desperate moan from my core. “I need to know that you’ll speak up if you’re in pain, or if you’re tired.” Evenas he issues the demand, his thumb circles my clit, gentle but relentless. I grip his wrist, not to stop him, but to steady myself.
“I promise.”
“Then I’m going to ruin you.”
“I want you to.”
My orgasm hits me like a lightning strike. It’s fast and electric. Heat and pleasure. My walls clamp around him in fluttering waves, trying to keep his fingers inside me. I drop my head to his chest, tremors rolling through me in relentless waves as I chase the aftershocks.
Jensen doesn’t give me a second to catch my breath. He hoists me onto the breakfast bar, my legs dangling over the edge. I don’t resist when pushes me onto my back and slips my underwear down my legs. Then he parts me like I’m a sacrifice lying on the altar.
Slowly, he inches my shirt up my thighs and over my belly until it’s bunched up under my chin.
For a moment he just stands there, tracing every inch of my body until his gaze stops on my stomach. His hands shake as they splay over where our baby is nestled inside me.
“I don’t know how to put into words how I feel right now,” he admits.
My lips part in surprise. Jensen always knows what to say. I keep my mouth shut, letting him feel his way through this.
“I want to devour you,” he mutters, his eyes wild, “but I don’t trust myself to be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be,” I whisper. “I want to feel it.”
He shakes his head, like he’s clearing fog from his brain. “I have to. You’re carrying something too fucking precious now.”
Jensen bends, pressing a kiss just under my naval, as if everything he’s ever wanted is under his lips. Then he leans his cheek against me, like he’s trying to hear our baby through the wall of my abdomen—even though that’s not possible.
“Say it again,” he demands, his lips brushing my stomach. “Say it’s mine.”
“It’s yours,” I breathe. “All yours.”
