He flattens his tongue, dragging it through my slit before he pushes the tip of it inside.
Oh.Fuck.
I can’t think anymore. Can’t move.
My body jerks as a cry rips out of me, and I detonate under his mouth, gasping as my orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave.
He pulls back a fraction, his breath warm against me as he kisses my stomach again. “This belly. This baby. All mine. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
“You already prove it to me every day. I don’t need more. I just need you.”
He stands, his lips wet, and kisses me. I can taste my arousal on him, which shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. “You have me. Always. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He guides me into the shower while my legs are still trembling and cleans me like he’s washing the sin of what he just did to me off my skin. His fingers are gentle as he massages the shampoo into my scalp, but his hands keep drifting back to my belly, as if he can’t stop reminding himself that I’m showing.
Once we’re done, he turns the water off and wraps a towel around me. For the second time today, he gets on his knees to dry my legs and feet. It makes my eyes burn when he presses kisses to the inside of my thigh before he pulls my panties into place, sitting them just beneath my belly.
This is the Jensen I fell in love with—the man who looks at me with so much love I might burst with it.
I let him dress me, every scrape of his fingers leaving warmth behind. Once my leggings are settled on my hips, he guides my arms into one of his sweaters. It hangs off me, the sleeves dangling past my fingers, but it’s perfect. It’s him.
Then his mouth finds mine, his hand guiding my jaw so he can deepen the kiss. I grip his biceps as my pulse stutters and lean closer, until there is not an inch of space between us.
He cradles my face like I’m breakable. His is breath ragged, barely keeping control. I like that he’s wild for me. I like that I can make that fragile tether on his sanity snap.
He kisses the corner of my mouth and the edge of my jaw before he presses his lips to my temple. “If I keep kissing you, we’re never going to leave the penthouse,” he groans like it pains him to admit it.
I pause. It’s Saturday, so I assumed we were going to have a lazy day, but clearly that is not on Jensen’s agenda. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
My lips twitch into a smile. I love when he surprises me, though I can’t imagine what he has planned.
Theo meets us at the elevator, and Jensen keeps his fingers entangled with mine until we reach the car. He opens the door for me, helping me into the back seat like I’m fragile. I don’t protest as he pulls the seatbelt over my chest, securing it in the buckle. Then he pulls it down under my small bump, his hand lingering there before he straightens.
He stares at me for the longest moment then closes my door.
I watch the Manhattan skyline as we head out of Tribeca toward SoHo. Jensen sits next to me, rubbing his thumb over my thigh like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.
The traffic is crazy, but Theo navigates it with the expertise of someone who has lived in the city too long to be polite.
Eventually, the car stops at the curb and the engine cuts. I don’t move. I know better than to get out on my own and for all the concessions Jensen’s made for me, this is something small I can do that makes his heart rate stay low.
When he opens my door, he looks at me like I hung the moon before he helps me out.
I still have no idea where we’re going until we’re standing in front of a store. Theo keeps close as Jensen opens the door for me and we step inside.
My heart flutters the moment I realize where we are.
There are shelves and racks filled with tiny clothes. Piles of soft blankets are stacked or draped elegantly over display cabinets and at the back of the store are lines of strollers, next to bassinets and cribs that make my chest ache.
I look up at him, my eyes burning. “Jensen.” I didn’t think we’d come shopping for baby things for a while yet.
“Find some things for our baby.”
I try to control my happiness as I gravitate toward the nearest display. There’s no one else in the store, just two sales clerks in fitted pencil skirts and blouses, hovering nearby in case we need them.
I pause and turn back to him. “Did you make them close the store for us?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
