He brushes my hair back, studies me as if he can see through to the thoughts swirling in my chest.
“You trust me?” His voice is low, almost hoarse.
I nod. “Yes.”
His jaw tightens, and something fierce flickers in his eyes. He kisses me slowly—lips parting mine with an intensity that leaves me dizzy.
There’s nothing rushed about it. He takes his time, learning the shape of my mouth, tasting me as if there’s nothing else in the world worth having. Every brush of his tongue, every gentle tug of my lower lip makes heat spiral through me.
His hands slide down, cupping my face, then my shoulders, tracing the curve of my waist where my body is softening and rounding.
Pregnancy has made me tender, vulnerable, but Simon only touches me with reverence. His palms are broad, warm, grounding me as he pulls my shirt over my head and unfastens my bra, baring me to the cool air.
Goose bumps ripple across my skin. His lips find my throat, lingering at the hollow, and his breath fans hot across my collarbone. I arch beneath him, craving more, needing the weight and certainty of his body pressed against mine.
He breaks the kiss only to murmur, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
It never is—not with him. I tangle my fingers in his hair, dragging him closer, until his mouth trails lower, teeth scrapinggently along the swell of my breast, his tongue swirling over a nipple.
I gasp, thighs tightening around his hips, the sensation magnified by my own hypersensitive skin.
He shifts, one hand sliding down to my belly. He kneels at the edge of the bed, and for a moment, he just looks—eyes wide, almost in awe. He presses a kiss to my stomach, lips soft, hands splayed wide to cradle my sides.
I feel exposed, cherished, almost sacred. He checks my breathing with a thumb grazing the underside of my ribs, steadying me, never letting me drift too far from him.
A shudder goes through me. “Simon…”
His cock pulses against the inside of my thigh. I realize with a little thrill that helikesthe beginning of my baby bump.
He glances up, and there’s a gentleness there that unravels me. He kisses every inch of my stomach, his stubble scraping just enough to make me laugh and then moan as his mouth finds the line of my hip.
His hand moves lower, slipping beneath my panties, teasing me until I’m slick and trembling, hips arching into his touch.
He is always watching—my face, my breath, the flush crawling down my chest. He waits until I beg, until my body arches up and my voice cracks with need.
When he finally pushes inside me, it’s slow, careful. He fills me completely, pausing to check my face for any hint of pain. There is none—only pleasure, only the overwhelming rightness of being with him like this.
I cling to his shoulders, nails digging into his back, and his control slips. His thrusts grow deeper, more desperate, but never careless. He braces my hips, murmurs praise andpossessive promises into my ear—how beautiful I am, how I belong to him, how he’ll always keep me safe.
The intensity isn’t just desire—it’s a bond that leaves me breathless, a certainty that I am seen, known, and entirely claimed.
Every thrust sends sparks racing up my spine. When his hand moves between us, his thumb circling my clit, I break for him—clenching, shaking, crying out his name as pleasure crashes over me.
He follows, burying his face in my neck, groaning as he spills inside me, one hand pressed flat against my belly as if to shield me and our child from the world.
After, we lie tangled in the sheets, my head on his chest, his arm a heavy, protective weight around my back. I listen to his heart steadying, his breath deepening as he runs his fingers in lazy circles over my shoulder. The air is warm and thick with everything we can’t put into words, but we don’t need to.
I feel the truth in every lingering touch, every sigh, every gentle kiss pressed to my temple.
Chapter Twenty-Two - Simon
Every move I make, every order I give, revolves around Eden.
It’s a truth I’d never admit aloud, but I don’t even try to hide it from myself anymore. The world narrows to a single point: her safety. Her comfort. Her happiness. Everything else—my business, my rivals, my own needs—comes second.
Especially now, with Cortez circling. He’s always been bold, but lately, he’s grown reckless.
The rumors drift in, soft and poisonous: a car idling too long near our building, a stranger trailing one of my men on the street, a message left in a code only a handful of us would understand.
