He stills, his body rigid as he looks up at me. “I don’t want to rush you, baby. You’re?—.”
“I’m fine, Jase. Please, if anything, I need you to heal me.” I assure him there’s nothing to worry about.
The doctor gave me a clean bill of health before leaving the hospital today with simple instructions to take better care of myself and make sure I’m eating properly. He never said anything about taking it easy or refraining from having sex.
His mouth trails down my stomach, inching closer to the spot that’s aching for his tongue. I love when he eats my pussy, when he licks and sucks me into his mouth, and fucks me with his tongue. It’s empowering to have a man submit on his knees, worshipping you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever had.
That’s what it feels like when Jase looks at me, and I was so fucking foolish not to see it and accept it before now. Licking through my lips, he sucks my clit into his mouth as he fucks me with his fingers, over and over, building up my orgasm so perfectly. I’m so ready to come, just from our kisses and the fact I’ve been without him for over two weeks.
Removing his fingers from my pussy, he stands, unbuttoning his jeans, and tugging them down his legs along with his boxers. His dick springs forward, and my mouth waters at the sight ofhim, so fucking perfect. Long and thick, hard and swelling in his hand as he strokes himself with his fingers coated in my arousal.
“I want to be gentle,” he says as he struts toward me, so sexy and confident. “I want to take it easy and give you time to rest, but baby, fuck.” Slowly he straddles me, knees on either side of me as he places a soft kiss on my pussy. He takes a sharp breath, inhaling my scent. “You taste so fucking good. I need to come inside you.”
Without teasing me any longer, his hands grip my hips and pull me toward him, my panties gone in the next second before he thrusts inside me, unapologetic and unforgiving, forcing me to cry out, though not from pain, but from the overwhelming feeling of it all. Every thrust is deliberate, his body racing to claim me as we crash together in a blur of heat and sweat.
I gasp breathless, when he grips my thigh, hauling me higher against him, hitting deeper. “Say it,” he groans, his forehead pressed to mine, yet one hand remains between us, cradling my stomach protectively. “Say you’re mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp, over and over, clutching at him, my fingers tangling behind his neck. “Yours. Always yours.”
My breath hitches, tears prick my eyes as I wrap myself around him, clinging like I’ll never let go. Every thrust is deep, deliberate, making me feel both claimed and cherished. He whispers my name against my ear like a prayer, and I swear the earth tilts beneath us.
Pleasure floods me, shattering and unstoppable, as I cling to him, losing myself and coming undone, but this time trusting he’s there for me. “Jase, oh God, that feels. Fuck, I need to come, baby, please let me come.”
“Not yet,” he commands, pulling out slowly. “I’m going to fill this pretty little pussy baby, and you’re going to moan my name as you come for me.” I nod desperately, agreeing to everything he says, and with one final deep thrust I explode, screaming hisname, and coming around him as my pussy clenches his cock, pumping him to his own release. He follows me over the edge, his voice breaking on my name.
“Monroe, fuck.”
When our shaking subsides, he collapses beside me, breath hot on my skin. I press my face into his shoulder, tears leaking into the hollow of his neck.
Epilogue
Monroe
One month later
Why doesn’t anyone warn you about the downside of pregnancy? It’s presented as a wonderful miracle to bring life into this world. Don’t get me wrong, it is. However, the pain I’m currently enduring ought to be more talked about and taken into consideration.
I wince as another contraction surges through me, my body scrunching on the hospital bed while I have Jase’s hand in a death grip, like he’s the one to blame for me being in this predicament. Technically, he is.
It is 3:12 a.m., and the nurses move in and out with practiced calm, checking monitors, adjusting IVs, speaking in tones that try to soothe but don’t reach me through the pain. Dr. Dawson is suited up for delivery, urging me to push. I’ve been in active labor for over five hours, and I don’t think I can take much longer.
I haven’t opened my eyes in ten minutes. It hurts to keep them open. Everything fucking hurts. Jase is beside me,murmuring in my ear, and all I want to do is punch him and tell him to shut up.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jase whispers, brushing damp hair from my forehead. “You’re almost there.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head, hair falling forward. “Oh, God, Jase. I can’t!” I cry out, tossing my head back as another excruciating contraction plows through me. I should have taken the damn epidural, but my dumbass thought I could do it.
“You can, baby,” he says, reassuring me as his fingers push my hair back and out of my face. “You’re the strongest person I know, Monroe. You have been through so much and survived it all. You can do this, baby. I know you can.”
I let out another sharp cry as a wave of pain slams through me, raw and endless.
“I can see a head,” Dr. Dawson says. “Just one more push, sweetie.” My world narrows in, my mind telling me to breathe through the chaos, past the burn I feel as Jase’s voice anchors me through the pain. Suddenly everything shifts. The pressure breaks as a sound tears from my throat that doesn’t feel human.
I feel a tight pressure that feels like my body is opening, stretching past anything that feels normal and then emptiness. A wail sounds out, and I collapse back against the pillows, gasping, sweat-soaked, and sobbing with relief. Jase is still holding my hand, but his eyes are on the tiny, wriggling creature in Dr. Dawson’s arms.
“He’s here,” he whispers, and my heart swells with so much emotion. A baby. My Little Bear is a baby boy.
“Monroe, he’s perfect.” Millie says, taking the baby from her husband and placing him on my chest. For the first time, I see my son, red-faced and furious with the world he’s just entered.
