He switches to the other side, coaxing more milk to the surface. The fire crackles beside us, warming the cooling, wet trails his mouth leaves behind. The contrasting sensations make me tremble, my whole body flushed with arousal.
“I need you,” I pant, not even sure what I’m asking for. I just need him. More of him. Everything.
Ian seems to understand. He helps me lie back on the sofa, arranging the cushions to support my back and belly. Then he strips off his thermal shirt, revealing the ginger-furred expanse of his chest. He tugs down my maternity leggings until I’m bare beneath him.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, running his hands up my thighs. “My beautiful mate.”
He lowers himself between my legs, hooking one over his shoulder, and I feel his breath hot against my center. The first sweep of his tongue through my folds makes me cry out, my hips jerking toward him. He’s done this before, many times, but this time it feels more intense, maybe because it’s been a little longer than usual.
His tongue delves deep, tasting me with long, thorough strokes that make my toes curl. He growls against my flesh, and the vibration sends pleasure sparking up my spine. I’m so wet, embarrassingly so, and he laps at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
“Please,” I hear myself beg. “Ian, please.”
He lifts his head, his muzzle glistening. “Please what,pretty girl?”
“I need you inside me.” I’m beyond embarrassment now, beyond anything except this desperate, clawing want. “Please.”
He doesn’t make me ask again. He shucks off his jeans and props a pillow under my hips. Then he positions himself carefully, mindful of keeping his weight off my belly as he slides into me with one slow, smooth thrust. The stretch is perfect, exactly what I needed, and I moan as he seats himself fully inside me.
“Okay?” he checks, holding still despite the tremor in thighs.
“More than okay. You can move if you want to.”
“Oh, I want to,” he growls, setting a rhythm that’s slow but deep. Every thrust pushes my pleasure higher, and when he reaches up to cup my breast, squeezing gently until another few drops of milk bead at the surface, I nearly shatter.
“How am I so close already?” I gasp, every nerve ending in my body firing at once. All the foreplay has me already teetering on the edge in record time.
“Let go,” he coaxes, his thumb circling my nipple, working it until my milk lets down again in a rush. “Let me see you fall apart.”
My orgasm hits like a lightning strike, so intense that I think I black out for a second. My whole body convulses around him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me as I sob his name. I shudderand writhe until I’m limp and gasping and tears are streaming down my face.
Ian follows me over the edge with a howl, his knot swelling inside me as he spills himself deep. Locked to him, trembling, I feel like I’ve been remade from the inside out.
“I love you,” I whisper against his fur.
“I love you too.” He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. “So much.”
We turn to our sides and lie there, tangled together, his knot keeping us connected while the aftershocks ripple through us both. I feel so good. Loose and warm and thoroughly loved.
Except... there’s another ripple. Deep, wrapping around my back. Different.
I freeze. Is that a contraction?
“What is it?” Ian asks immediately. His nostrils flare as he scans me for distress. “Julia?”
“Nothing,” I say, relaxing. “Just aftershocks, I think. That was really intense.”
He relaxes a little, nosing at my neck. “Yeah, it was.”
We doze together on the couch while his knot slowly softens. Eventually, he slips free of me, and I feel the trickle of his release against my thigh as my uterus clamps down again. He cleans us both up, then brings me water and wraps us together in a fuzzy blanket.
I’m almost asleep when the next ripple comes.
This time, I pay attention. It’s low and crampy, concentrated in a band across my belly. I breathe through it, waiting for it to pass.Thatwas definitely a contraction.
I glance at the clock. “Hey, what time was it since your knot slipped out?”
He blinks at me, still drowsy. “Maybe twenty minutes ago. Why?”
