Audrey closed her eyes, letting out a soft, contented sigh at the contact. She was almost eight months pregnant, her center of gravity entirely shifted, her body heavy and stretched. But every single time Simon touched her—especially here, in the quiet dark of their bedroom—it was with a breathtaking, fragile reverence. He didn't just touch her stomach; he held it like it was the most precious, sacred thing he had ever been entrusted with.
"I love you," Simon whispered against her neck, pressing a hot, lingering kiss to her skin.
He slid his other hand down her hip, guiding her leg up just enough to make room for himself. When he finally pushed inside her, the angle was deep, comfortable, and profoundly intimate.
Audrey let out a long, shuddering breath, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. "Simon..."
"I've got you," he promised softly, his arm tightening securely around her heavy belly, holding their unborn child while he made love to his wife.
He established a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm. There was no rush, no frantic race to the finish line. This was entirely about connection. Audrey reached down, resting her hand over his where it lay flat against her stomach. They moved perfectly together, the physical pleasure building with an intense, agonizing heat. He kissed the shell of her ear, whispering absolute filth mixed with devastating declarations of love, entirely melting her brain until she couldn't think of anything but him.
The intensity grew, the slow burn igniting into a roaring fire. Audrey felt the familiar, blinding tension coiling in her lower stomach again. Simon felt her breath hitch, and he drove into her harder, his own control finally fraying.
"Rey," he groaned, his grip on her hip tightening.
They found their release together, Simon burying his face in her dark hair as he completely surrendered, his chest heaving violently against her back. Audrey let out a soft, muffled cry, entirely consumed by the blinding pleasure and the overwhelming, undeniable safety of her husband’s arms.
For a long time, the only sounds in the room were their ragged, synchronized breathing and the popping of the fire.
Eventually, Simon let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He kissed her shoulder before slowly pulling back and rolling out of bed. He didn't grab his clothes. Completely bare, he walked around to Audrey’s side of the bed and extended his hands to her.
"Come on, baby," Simon smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Up you get."
Audrey groaned playfully, looking at her massive stomach. "I don't want to move. I'm too comfortable."
"Doctor's orders," Simon reminded her gently, grasping her hands and helping her maneuver her heavy body upright. "You need to use the bathroom. No UTIs on my watch."
Audrey laughed softly, letting him pull her to her feet. "You are entirely too practical."
"I am protective," he corrected, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Go on. I'll get you some water."
Audrey waddled to the en-suite bathroom, a warm, profound sense of joy settling over her heart. When she returned a few minutes later, the sheets had been straightened, and Simon was sitting up against the headboard, a fresh glass of ice water waiting on the nightstand.
She climbed back into bed, taking the water and drinking it gratefully before settling back down at his side. Simon immediately wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. His hand, entirely by instinct, found its way right back to her round belly, his thumb gently stroking the taut skin.
"How's he doing in there?" Simon whispered, looking down at her stomach with a soft, boyish smile. "Did we wake him up?"
As if on cue, a sharp, distinct kick hit right against Simon's palm.
Simon’s eyes lit up, a quiet, awestruck laugh escaping him. "Hey, buddy. Yeah, I feel you."
Audrey smiled, resting her head on Simon’s chest, listening to the steady, strong beat of his heart. She watched his hand gently rub circles over the baby's kicks, her mind drifting back to the crisp autumn morning she had found out.
It had been six months after the Lumière fallout, and their marriage had finally found its solid, beautiful footing. Audrey had been a week late. She remembered sitting on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the two pink lines on the plastic stick, her heart hammering with a wild mixture of terror and overwhelming hope.
When she had walked downstairs and handed the test to Simon in the kitchen, he had completely frozen. He dropped the spatula he was holding, stared at the two lines, and then immediately fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach. He had cried—deep, shaking, unapologetic sobs of absolute gratitude. He had promised her, right there on the kitchen floor, that this baby would never know a single day of the broken man he used to be.
And he had kept that promise. He was an incredible father to Lily, and he was already completely devoted to the son they were expecting in just six weeks.
"He's strong," Simon murmured, kissing the top of Audrey's head, pulling her from her thoughts. "He's going to be a menace on the soccer field."
"He's going to be absolutely spoiled by you, is what he's going to be," Audrey teased softly, lacing her fingers with his over her belly.
"Guilty as charged," Simon admitted without a single ounce of shame. He rested his chin on her hair, his voice dropping into a quieter, deeply reverent register. "Thank you, Rey."
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me," Simon whispered, the absolute truth ringing in the dark cabin. "For letting me build this life with you. I love you."
