I almost got off myself just from the sounds he was making and the way he pulled my hair. He wasn't gentle when he came down my throat, heated words hissed from his lips and by the time he pulled me to my feet, I was wetter than I'd ever been.
He didn't waste any of it. He took me to bed, stripped me and ate my pussy until I rocked against his mouth. I could smell my arousal on his beard when he finally stopped the lashings and climbed on top of me.
"I love being pregnant." I push up so I can kiss him. "I like that we don't have to use a condom anymore."
We had a brief discussion after I found out I was pregnant about risk. I'd been tested in the hospital during the blood screen they ran after I was admitted. He was tested right before we met. It was a conversation that seemed unnecessary yet important to us both.
"That first night when I sank my cock into you without a condom, I thought I'd died," he repeats the words he's said at least a dozen times since I was in the hospital. "You can't possibly understand what it feels like, Sophia."
"I do." I wink at him. "I feel the same things you do."
"You can't." He grabs hold of his erection. "You feel what you feel and I feel this being gripped by you."
"You need to calm down or your penis is going to explode." I look down. "I can jack you off."
"You can talk dirty to me all day but I'm going to fuck you."
"Now?"
He slides his cock over my core, parting the seams of my pussy with the crown. "Now and then again tomorrow morning and then…"
"I get the picture." I moan as he slides the tip in. "Be gentle. Everything feels so sensitive right now."
"I'll be as gentle as I can be, but a man only has so much willpower when he's fucking the love of his life."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Nicholas
"A book?"I straddle her. We fucked and then not two minutes later she whispered in my ear that she's considering an offer for a book deal from my publisher. "You're not serious?"
She pushes against my chest, a motion meant to urge me to roll to my side. I do. I prop my head up on one hand and stare down at her.
Jesus, she's beautiful. Her hair is a mess, her lips swollen from my teeth and tongue. She looks well fucked and loved.
"I haven't given them an answer." Her eyes take on a warm gleam. "I was honored that they even approached me. I'm a fashion designer, not a writer."
That's a lie. She's been writing to our baby in a journal. It's something she picked up from Cadence, although she hasn't yet told her best friend we're expecting. I've read her words and fuck me; they're filled with everything my heart wants to say.
She encouraged me to fill in pages of the journal with my own words, but I can't. I tried. I can write the hell out of a novel aboutmurder and intrigue but I can't lay down a sentence for the child I can't wait to meet.
"When did they make the offer?" I'm curious. I've been on a book tour the last two weeks. I dialed it back after what happened to Sophia, but I've spent more than a few hours with my contact from the publishing house. He hasn't said a word about this although that's not surprising. I doubt like hell Sophia was offered a deal from the same imprint as my books.
"Yesterday." She blinks. "I told them I needed to talk to the man I love."
I'm glad. I would have been pissed if she would have given them an answer without my input. This is my wheelhouse. I'm the expert in this arena.
"I take it they want you to write about what happened with Franco?"
A smile ghosts her mouth. "That's the conclusion anyone would jump to in a situation like this."
"That's not an answer, Sophia." I rub my hand over her bare stomach. "What's the book about?"
"Love."
I press my hand to her breast. "Love? As in your love for me?"
She nods. "I might have done something right after we met."
