“Like this?” I whispered, dragging my tongue along his length. From base to tip and back again. Swirling the tip.
“That’s good.So good.” He swept my hair from my face—a tender gesture—but I knew it was so he could watch as he said, “Put it in your mouth.”
“You should do audio porn,” I whispered, glancing up the length of his body. A body that shook with laughter. And when he stopped, he moved his hand to my head, pressing it down.
That one tiny act of dominance, and I was done.
With my mouth stretched around him, he watched me work. And the noise he made as I took him deep could’ve blown a house down.
“You’re so good,” he rasped. He gave a thirsty swallow, his head tilted back, exposing the strong line of his throat.The tremor in his Adam’s apple.
I felt like a goddess. His taut breaths and his stuttered praise were my creation. Mine alone. I made his body shudder and his eyes turn molten.
“Yeah, like that. Just like that, darlin’.” Desperate then, his jaw taut and his words running together. “Don’t you make me come, Ryan. Don’t you dare make me come.”
It felt like a challenge. A gauntlet thrown. I was going to give my white knight the ride of his life. Drive him to the edge of his sanity, to the point he was unable to do anything but ...
Let go.
Give in.
Give it to me.
And those memories are why I’m hiding out in my rooms like a troll under a bridge.
Because I’m not my mother. I can resist a man.
Because I will never be her, and I’ll always put my child’s needs first.
I’m just down here, cooling things.My blood mostly.Lines will not blur. Hearts will not get hurt.
I tell myself this is just a temporary state. Pregnancy hormones. And they are a blast.
As in, if I don’t keep them in check, they’re likely to blow up in my face.
Sixteen weeks.
Matt: Do you know Matt Junior is the size of a tomato this week?
I can’t help but smile at Matt’s first text of the day. It’s hard to believe a man can be this sweet.And hotter than the devil, when he invades my dreams.
Yeah, that’s still happening, though I’m not sure if it’s truly hormones that make me feel this way or if it’s just him. Dark haired and funny, caring and kind could be just my thing.
Not that it matters.
Me: Beefsteak or plum tomato?
Matt: A lemon-sized tomato.
Me: What I’m hearing is baby Ryan is the size of a lemon. Good to know!
Matt: It’s a bit vague, don’t you think?
Me: What is?
Matt: Is he the size of a lemon from Valencia or one we get at the greengrocer? There’s quite a variance, size-wise.
Me: . . .
