“I told you I needed you.”
The tip of his cock is at my entrance a second later. He eases in slowly, and I can feel him fighting his instinct to be gentle.
“Don’t hold back,” I tell him, gripping the edge of the counter. “I can take it. I want it.”
He slides almost all the way out and thrusts forward, harder this time, and the stretch of it is exactly what I’ve been craving.
“More,” I gasp. “Stop worrying so much.”
“You’re killing me here, Hurricane.” But his rhythm picks up, and his fingers dig into my hips as he gives me what I’m asking for.
“That’s better. God, that’s so much better.”
He fucks me faster, pulling me back to meet his thrusts, and the pressure inside me builds with every stroke.
“I’ve missed this,” I manage to say between moans. “Missed you like this.”
“Me too,” he growls. “You have no idea how hard it’s been holding back.”
“Then don’t. Not right now.”
He doesn’t. And when my orgasm hits, it’s so intense I can barely stay upright. Grant holds me steady, fucking me through it until I feel his rhythm falter.
He pulls out just before he comes, and I feel the warm splash across my lower back.
“Fuck,” he breathes, still stroking himself. “Look at you.”
He grabs a kitchen towel and wets it, then gently cleans me up while pressing kisses to the back of my neck.
“Better?” he asks.
“So much better. Thank you for not treating me like I’m fragile.”
“You’re not fragile. You’re growing an entire human. That’s pretty badass if you ask me.”
He helps me straighten up and pull my pants back into place. I turn to face him, about to suggest we go lie down, when a sharp, intense pain shoots through my abdomen.
I yelp and nearly double over, clutching my belly.
“Heather?” Grant’s hands are on me immediately. “What’s wrong? Was I too rough? Did I?—”
A gush of wetness between my thighs cuts him off, and my sharp gasp fills the kitchen.
“Oh my god.” I stare down at the puddle forming on the floor. “My water just broke.”
His face goes pale for half a second before his training kicks in and he snaps into focus. “Okay. Okay, this is happening. Contractions?”
Another pain hits, sharper this time, and I nod. “Yeah. That was definitely a contraction.”
“Hospital. Now.”
He’s already moving, grabbing his keys, his phone, probably mentally running through the checklist we’ve gone over a dozen times. He helps me get ready and gathers everything we need in record time, then starts to lead me toward the door. “Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?”
“I can walk. But Grant?”
He stops and looks at me, his brows furrowed. “What is it, Hurricane?”
“Maybe we don’t tell the delivery room staff that we had sex right before my water broke.”
