I arch my back, giving him my throat, and his lips skim there, barely a touch but enough to make me shiver.
“I’m scared,” I admit, honest enough that it stings. “A little bit. Of giving birth… of my body changing… of letting our kid down.”
My voice wavers. “I don’t have much to go on with my own parents.”
His expression shifts instantly. All the darkness in him turns into something protective. Devoted. He presses soft kisses along my throat like he’s soothing the fear right out of my skin.
“You’ll be a perfect mom,” he murmurs. “And I’ll be there. Right by your side. No matter what.”
“Even if I have to waddle around?” I whisper, trying to lighten it, trying not to cry.
He nips my earlobe, and I jolt. “Especially if you’re doing that pregnant waddle,” he growls.
A laugh bursts out of me, shaky and real.
I turn my head to look at him, and he’s not joking.
He’s looking at me like he’s already picturing it. Like he’s already in love with every version of me that could ever exist.
“I love you today,” he says quietly, his forehead brushing mine. “I’ll love you through everything. Even when we’re old and wrinkly.”
His grip tightens around my wrists—firm, grounding.
“I love you for you, lastochka.”
My heart flutters so hard it almost hurts.
“And I’ll find you incredibly sexy no matter what,” he adds, voice dropping lower, his mouth hovering over my lips.
I swallow. “I love you, Drago,” I whisper. “We’ve got this, haven’t we?”
His grin tells me he’s certain. “There’s nothing we can’t do when we’re together, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. “We’ve got this.”
I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him, needing the weight of him, the certainty of him. My anchor.
“You know…” I trail off, voice turning soft and wicked. “Apparently, being pregnant increases a woman’s sex drive.”
His brows lift like he’s pretending to consider it.
Then he nods, dead serious. “You need an orgasm, Lily, you just tell me,” he says, voice like sin. “Doesn’t matter when. Or where.” He winks, mouth brushing my cheek. “I’ve got you.”
My stomach flips. I meet his gaze, pulse racing. “Right now works.”
“Here you go, beautiful,” Drago says, sliding a glass across the counter toward me.
It’s… violently green.
Like someone blended a lawn.
“And what could I possibly want to drink for breakfast that’s this green, Drago?” I tease, eyeing it like it might attack me.
His mouth twitches like he’s proud of himself. “Every vitamin and mineral you and our baby could possibly need.”
A smile spreads across my lips before I can stop it.
He’s so fucking cute.
I pick it up, and I don’t even smell it. I just drink. Because I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, like this is his new obsession—keeping me alive, keeping me safe, keepingusokay.
