I smile, feeling that familiar tightness in my chest. “You earned it.”
His lips find mine in a kiss so gentle it almost breaks me.
I slide my hand up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepens—slow, deliberate, a promise wrapped in warmth.
When he shifts to ease me back onto the pillows, his movements are careful, his weight braced on one arm like he’s worried anything more commanding might hurt me—like, now that I’m carrying something precious inside me, I might be made of glass.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Gio rests his other hand instinctively on my stomach, a silent acknowledgment of that life we created.
I can feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of my dress, steady and grounding.
“You’re so beautiful, Stephanie,” he murmurs against my lips.
Combing my fingers through his shock of dark hair to guide his head back, I cup his face, as I hold his gaze.
There’s so much love in his light hazel eyes, it’s almost overwhelming.
His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and the soft touch says everything—how far we’ve come, how close we came to losing this, and how determined he is to never let me go again.
He kisses a slow path down my neck, his stubble scraping lightly against my skin in a way that makes me shiver.
My fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the solid muscle beneath, the heat radiating from him.
I breathe him in—the scents of jasmine, amber wood, and cedar mixed with sunshine and something that’s just him.
Every movement feels like an unspoken vow.
His hand moves over the curve of my belly, lingering there.
A small flutter I’ve learned to recognize comes to life in my belly, and I smile as Gio stills. He lifts his head, meeting my eyes with a tenderness that steals my breath.
“Did he just… kick?”
I nod. “He’s decided it’s time to say hello.”
Gio’s eyes shift back to my belly, his face overcome with awe now. “I can’t wait to meet him—or her,” he whispers, smoothing his palm over me.
My throat tightens. “And I can’t wait to see you holding them.”
The words make something raw flicker across his face before he leans down to kiss me again—slower now, the kind of kiss that makes the rest of the world fade to nothing.
Heat coils in my belly, and I part my lips to taste him as I deepen the kiss.
Gio inhales sharply, his hand soft and inviting as he explores my curves.
He’s gentle as he palms my breast, kneading it tenderly until I whimper.
Excitement floods my core as a slow smile curves his lips.
“What would you like to do tonight, Mrs. Chiaroscuro?” he murmurs, the rough husk of his voice low and inviting.
“I think you’re already on the right track,” I promise, arching into his palm as I bring our lips back together.
Gio hums allowing his hand to wander down over my belly once again, then lower, following the line of my hip until his fingers find the hem of my dress.
“Maybe I ought to try putting another baby inside you,” he suggests playfully, making me laugh.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I tease, then moan as his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh to brush across my sex.
