His movements stilled. For a moment, the only sound was our breathing in the darkened room. Then he shifted, leaning on one elbow, his face hovering above mine. Those light eyes studied me with such intensity that I felt exposed, as if he could see through skin to the cellular changes happening within.
“You’ve beennot-wellfor a long time,” he said, and his free hand brushed a hair from my face with unexpected tenderness. “I start to worry.”
I swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical thing. “It's just stress,” I said, my voice small against his. “The food bank, the budget proposal. Everything.”
“Everything,” he echoed, drawing the word out like he was tasting it for lies. His hand moved from my hair to my throat, resting there.
My pulse throbbed against his palm.
“Tell me about it,” he whispered as he leaned toward my neck. “Thiseverything…” His hot breath ghosted against my skin. He kissed me where he’d bitten me, then lower. My shoulder, my collarbone. The thin strap of my nightgown slipped off my shoulder. His knee pushed my legs apart.
“I…” My voice broke off when his mouth fell over my breast, wetting the silk over my nipple with his tongue. My breasts were fuller — I prayed he wouldn’t notice. He traced circles through the damp fabric, and then — he pulled the nightgown down and took my naked breast into his mouth. My nipple hardened into a painful peak, more sensitive than it had ever been before. My back arched involuntarily, betraying me.
His fingers found the edge of my underwear, teasing along the elastic before slipping beneath. I bit my lip to stifle a moan. I knew I was already wet. There was no denying it.
We both knew by then where the lie ended, and the truth began.
My hand reached for his cock, hoping that maybe that would distract him enough.
He hissed through his teeth as my fingers wrapped around him through his pajama pants. I stroked him firmly. His eyes fluttered closed for just a moment — a small victory.
But when they opened again, that searching look hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had intensified, turned predatory. He caught my wrist, stilling my movements.
“Not tonight,” he murmured, and pulled my hand away.
Before I could respond, he'd tugged my underwear down my thighs with one smooth move. I felt exposed in a way I never had before with him, vulnerable not just in body but in the secret I was keeping. His fingers found me, slid through the wetness there.
“You're different,” he whispered, and my heart nearly stopped.
“What do you mean?” I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady as his thumb massaged my clit with maddening slowness.
Instead of answering, he lowered his head between my thighs. The first touch of his tongue made me gasp, my hands flying to his hair. He'd done this before, but tonight felt different — like he was trying to taste the change in me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on the pleasure and not the panic rising in my chest.
His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wider, exposing me completely. I felt his gaze even with my eyes closed, felt him watching my reactions as his tongue delved deeper. When my hips bucked involuntarily, he pressed them back down with firm hands.
“Stay still,” he commanded against my flesh, the vibration of his words sending shivers through me.
I was close already, my body betraying my mind's resistance. The hormones coursing through me had heightened everything — every touch, every sensation magnified beyond reason. When he slipped two fingers inside me while his tongue continued its relentless attention, I couldn't hold back the cry that escaped my lips.
My orgasm built like a storm, and when it broke, tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. He moved up my body slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. When his face was level with mine, he paused, hovering just inches away. I felt the head of his cock moving up and down my pussy.
“And Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived,” he quoted Genesis and pushed in with one steady thrust.
I gasped at the fullness, at the way he filled me completely. His eyes burned into mine, searching, knowing.
“I know you’re pregnant.”
The words fell between us like a stone in still water, ripples of consequence expanding outward. My entire body went cold despite the heat of him inside me.
“How—” My voice cracked. I couldn't finish the question.
Judah's hips stilled, but he remained buried deep within. His hand came to my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone with a gentleness that contradicted the hardness in his eyes.
“You think I don't know your body?” he murmured. “The way you've been sick in the mornings? How your breasts have changed?” His hand drifted down to cup one, thumb brushing over the sensitive nipple. I couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through me. “The way you're swollen here—” his hips shifted slightly, making me gasp, “—more than usual.”
I turned my face away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to look at him.
