Her body remembered Ciar. Her heart did too. She’d ached for the closeness they were sharing again. “I care for you, Ciar. So much,” she confessed, arching her body off the bed to meet each of his thrusts.
He moved faster and faster until they were both wrecked and quivering, shouts and moans of completion echoed off the bedroom walls.
In the silence that followed her words, Gray pretended like the ache in her heart wouldn’t kill her.
Ciar lay his head next to hers on the pillow and let his body tip to one side, where he pulled her close. He didn’t utter a word. He didn’t placate her with words of “like.” For that, she was immeasurably thankful.
Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d put her heart out there and had it handed right back. She said “cared for,” not “love,” but he knew. He knew very well how much she loved him.
He cared for her. She knew he did. They just needed time, and hopefully when he returned from Tokyo, they’d have it.
After thirty minutes of boneless chill, they showered, which led to more intimate activities. By the time Gray had dried her hair enough not to soak the bed, her eyes were drooping.
“Lay down, baby, and let me hold you until I have to leave.”
Gray couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. She was wearing a short, pine green silk nightdress, the material sliding decadently over the swell of her belly and breasts. Mags had borrowed it once, so she brought it over earlier when she and Bébhinn visited, which was why she had any nightclothes at all.
“Jesus, Gray. I have to leave soon, and you’re wearing that,” he complained.
She rolled in his arms until they were facing. From his shaved head to his muscled body covered in tattoos, no one would believe what a sweet, thoughtful man he was. Seeing him with his daughter had proven he had plenty of love to give, and she knew he would dote on their son the same.
Was she selfish to want that love for herself?
She ran her hands over his head, massaging and dragging her nails over his scalp, before using the pads of her fingers to trace his face. Ciar closed his eyes and practically purred beneath her touch.
She traced his shoulders and chest, down the arm lying atop his side, tracing his hand before beginning on his stomach muscles and V-line. Her fingers traced the band of his boxers where his erection strained.
He didn’t ask her to take him out, but his hips undulated when her touch was close to where he wanted it.
“Gray,” He pleaded. “Fifteen minutes.”
She knew when he had to leave. Before he could anticipate her move, she swung her left leg over his waist and sat straddling his hips.
Tugging her nightie over her head, she said, “How fast can you get us off then, baby?” she teased.
Ciar pulled his boxers low enough until his sex sprang free, and while he lined himself up with her entrance, she lowered slowly.
“Fuck, Gray, fuck,” he moaned as he watched her take his length. “Never have enough of you.”
“Never,” she mirrored, arching her back and pushing her belly high.
“So perfect, baby, carrying our son.”
He started pistoning faster from his back. She rocked, moaning his name, concentrating on the sensation, her orgasm building faster than ever. When his thumb pressed the sensitivenub above where they were joined, her body went off like fireworks.
As her inner muscles pulsed and squeezed Ciar, his body stiffened, a satisfied “Ahh,” his guttural cry as he followed her over the edge.
Once the aftershocks had subsided, he looked at her, curved over his body. Gray MacGregor was precious to him. After months apart, feeling her heartbeat against his was nothing short of miraculous.
He clasped her ribs just above her bump. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be here when you get home.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. I don’t ever want to be where you aren’t, Ciar,” she admitted, “but you’ve promised a come-to-Jesus with me the moment you’re back in Dublin, and I’ll hold you to it.”
Gray hadn’t been happy about waiting even the one week until he got home, but she did understand that they’d had a heck of a day.
