Her smile turns wicked. “Bingo.”
“No need for violence,” I tease, stepping back just far enough for her to watch. “Let me undress for you.”
Her eyes darken instantly.
“Liam…” she breathes, already sounding turned on.
I loosen the first button of my shirt.
Then the second.
Her breath catches with each click. I drag out the third so long she’s practically vibrating.
“You’re torturing me,” she whispers.
“Good things come to those who wait,” I say with a smirk.
She eagerly reaches for my belt, but I swat her hand away with a tsk. “Uh-uh. Hands off.”
“Bossy,” she murmurs, biting her bottom lip as I undo the buckle myself.
“Yeah?” I grin. “You complaining?”
“Not even a little.” Her gaze is lustful as she takes in every inch of me that gets exposed. “I like this striptease way too much. It’s ridiculously hot.”
I grin lazily, slipping off my shoes and letting my pants fall to my ankles. “Oops. My pants fell off.”
She laughs. “Oops indeed.”
My wife.
God, I’ll never get tired of saying that.
She steps forward and rubs my cock through my black boxer briefs. The boy is well-trained, jumping at just the slightest attention.
I slip the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders, then trail fingertips over the swell of her breasts. She shivers, closing her eyes.
When I reach for the zipper at her spine, I murmur, “I kind of hate taking this off you. You look incredible in it.”
“I love it too,” she says softly, “but it’s tight. I was worried it might not fit when I put it on.”
“Why would you worry about that?” I ask, easing the zipper down.
But she doesn’t let the dress fall.
She holds her arms close, keeping it pinned to her body.
At first, I assume she doesn’t want it to get wrinkled, but then I look at her face and see that her expression has changed.
Emma has always been self-conscious about her body.
She shouldn’t be, because she’s every fantasy I’ve ever had, but I know the look on her face.
I lean in and kiss her neck, “Em,” I say against her skin. “I’ve told you you’re perfect.”
She swallows. Her hands tremble where they clutch the fabric.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurts.
