“Don’t let go,” he says, nodding towards where my hands grip the ornate metal posts, “or everything stops.”
I blink, enjoying Bossy Leo, and he grins.
“Are we clear?”
I lift one side of my mouth. “We are.”
“Perfect.” Almost casually, he tips the blue candle, and I gasp and sigh with enjoyment at the soft burn on my stomach. He turns it this way and that, and I realise what he’s doing.
He’s drawing a heart.
First in blue, then in pink, then in purple, over and over, where our baby is growing.
I’d get choked up, but I’m too turned on right now to do anything but gasp and squirm happily.
“Can I take some photos?” he whispers, admiring his handiwork. “For our eyes only, I swear.”
“I know,” I reply, because I trust him implicitly. “Go right ahead.”
I expect him to go fetch his phone. Instead, he puts the candles carefully upright on his bedside table, reaches on top of his oak wardrobe, and produces a digital camera that even I can tell isn’t just a cheap point-and-snap. He poses me a little, arranging my limbs and moving my hair over the pillow the way he wants it, and my smile is playful when he clicks the button over and over.
“Good woman,” he murmurs. Then, without any warning, he picks up the pink candle and spills some onto my already tight nipples, first one, then the other. I yelp, the skin even more sensitive because it’s so thin and delicate, but I love it. It’s intense and yet harmless,moreish.
“More,” I plead, and he picks up the blue and the purple, spilling one on each breast simultaneously.
“So fucking beautiful.” He places all three flames close to my lips. “Blow.”
He knows me so well, knows just how far to push it and when to quit while we’re ahead. I blow each candle out, and he places them on the bedside table again before straddling my chest, inching his cock to my lips once more. “And…blow,” he quips.
With a giggle made husky from all my gasping, I open my mouth and have at it, still holding on tightly to the head of the bed frame. He grins down at me, his breath coming faster as he fucks my mouth, his movements getting a little jerky and off beat as he gets closer to letting go.
“That’s it,” he hisses between his teeth. “Oh, fucking god damnit, woman, my kinky little… Christ on a fuckin’bike, you looksohot with my cock in your pretty mouth… Woman of my…dreams…” He tries to say a few more words after that, but his climax catches up with him, and he pulls free of my mouth and jerks himself until his release is scattered all over my stomach, white among the splatters of blue and purple and pink, mingling perfectly.
He damn near collapses next to me, still trying to catch his breath, and then pulls me towards him. I still don’t let go of the posts, and he lifts his head to frown-laugh at me. “Hold your man,” he grumbles, squeezing me tighter.
“Uh-uh. I haven’t been told I can let go of - ” I start laughing as he tugs on my wrists and rolls me on top of him. “I’m too heavy,” I protest, wriggling, but he swats me on the butt.
“You’re just right,” he insists, and spends the rest of the night proving his point.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sadie
One of the benefits of having a newlywed as a best friend is that she’s just had to change her surname with all of her service providers, so she has a full list of everywhere I need to change my address to Leo’s. Orours, as he insists on calling it.
And I agree, it is.
I’ve had different pieces of mail going to both my flat and Peter’s over the past few months. I used to split my time between both addresses, and so did he, but I never got anything of his once we separated. I was far too preoccupied to change everything to just mine after the break up, so I just changed it as matters arose, like the first time I ordered something from Amazon after I’d left. It’s going to be good to do a clean sweep and get it all done properly.
So far, living with Leo has been an absolute dream. And it’s not just that he bought me each and every type and brand of decaf coffee he could find so I could source one that didn’t taste like arse, or that he brings me a mug every single morning before I get out of bed. Just being with him, having him be my newnormal, has filled me with a sense of everything being right that I wasn’t expecting, and had never occurred to me.
He found space for all my favourite furniture, even my enormous standard lamp with an ungainly fox print shade, despite the fact that I know he thinks it’s ugly. He installed two parrot play gyms for Gary, one in the sitting room and one in our bedroom, so the little shit has plenty to do and play with all day. I saw him kiss the back of Gary’s head when he thought I wasn’t looking, andGary let him. I guess even he knows how much Leo is putting into taking care of us.
And every single night, Leo plays big spoon and cocoons me and the baby in the warmth of his arms, his hand resting light and warm on my stomach, leaving both me and our baby in no doubt that we are safe and loved.
He’s consumed me. I’ve never felt this secure and adored in all my life, and I still can’t quite believe this is really happening, but in the face of daily proof, I can’t really do anything but try to relax and accept my good fortune.
It’s not all roses, though, and the baby knows how to bring me back down to earth with a bump, pun intended. Like when the baby decides it doesn’t like the smell of breakfast, it’s inescapably clear that thisismy life now, complete with very occasional random barfing sessions and raging heartburn like nothing I’ve ever known before, and finding all my shoes are suddenly too tight.
