“Ten.” It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Perfect.” He stood, reaching for her hand. “Come on. We’ve got about an hour before your eight hours is up, and I know exactly what I want to do with it.” He pulled her to her feet and pointed her down the hall toward their bedroom. “Hurry,” he said, giving her ass a smack. “Or we’ll run out of time.”
CLAIRE WAXED FOR him. He wouldn’t have asked her to do it. He’d never had a strong preference one way or the other. Women could say it wasn’t that bad, but he’d seen40 Year Old Virgin. He was calling bullshit. There was no way having someone rip out your pubic hair didn’t hurt like a motherfucker. But he loved that when she was thinking of wedding presents, that’s what she decided to give him. He was going to do everything in his considerable power to make sure the pleasure more than made up for the pain.
“Take off your clothes. Let me see you,” he said when they were in their bedroom.
He sat on the chair by the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs when she stepped out of her loose fitting slacks. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, she peeled the soft cotton from her body. She stood in front of him wearing nothing but her bra and panties, looking so beautiful she stole his breath.
“Keep going,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. He loved her so much, wanted her so much, and he’d come so close to losing her. To losing everything.
Biting her bottom lip in a way that let him know she wanted this as much as he did, she unclasped the front of her bra. Her gorgeous tits spilled out, and he had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her. He loved the way her body was changing, her breasts getting fuller and the dusky rose of her nipples turning darker, while the tips protruded, almost begging for his mouth.
His gaze caught hers, and he could tell she was watching for his reaction. She hooked her thumbs in her panties and dragged his gaze along with the lace down her body. He caught a glimpse of her smooth, exposed pussy, and his mouth actually watered in anticipation.
“Fuck, Claire. I can’t wait to taste you.”
Her face flushed, and he loved that after everything they’d done with each other, he still had the power to make her blush. Standing, he reached for her, brushing a kiss over her lips before guiding her back onto the bed. He quickly shed his clothes before stretching out on the bed beside her. She looked at him, and he was knocked senseless by the love shining in her eyes. With a hand that shook from the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, he cupped her cheek before running his palm over her body in long gentle strokes.
Trying to let the love he felt for her pass from his hands to her skin, he worshipped her, palming her breasts until her nipples pebbled tight against his hand. He ran his hand over her ribcage to the swell of her belly. Fascinated by the hard round bump stretching her skin, he rubbed concentric circles, moving closer to her belly button with every pass.
“That tickles,” she said, smiling at him and squirming a little. Then her eyes went wide and his hand froze in place.
It was the softest touch, just a swish so gentle he wasn’t sure he’d actually felt it. Keeping his palm pressed flat to her belly, he waited and then swish. There it was again.
“Is that…?” he asked when he could get his mouth to form words.
“Our baby? Yes,” she said her eyes filling with tears.
This time he had to blink as hard as she did. He felt their child, and the love he thought he felt before was nothing compared to the fierce, protective devotion that surged through his body at the small, gentle nudge. He moved down the bed until his face was level with the round swell of Claire’s stomach, and then he pressed his lips to the place he’d felt their child.
Claire tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her while he rested his cheek to her stomach and stroked, gentle caresses over her skin. They stayed that way, connected together, surrounding each other with love. The baby didn’t move again, but it didn’t matter, Luke knew he or she was in there and he knew when the time came, he’d love his child more than enough to make up for any mistakes he would surely make.
Pressing a kiss to Claire’s belly, he let his fingers drift lower.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she said, and he knew that she did. He felt it in everything she did, every response she had, every fiber of his being.
“Claire,” he said, raising his head just enough to glance at the clock on the nightstand.
“Hmm?” she murmured sleepily.
“Time’s up.” He shifted, settling himself between her legs. The fingers that had been stroking his hair tightened, pulling him close as he set out to show her with his mouth and body, how very much he loved her.
