“Yes—” My voice is loud, unbroken. “Just like that. Pound me, Rafe. Fill me up.”
He sets a rhythm—deep, grinding thrusts that hit that spot inside me every time. Each stroke pushes the air out of my lungs in little gasps that turn into words.
His hand finds mine and anchors it above my head. Our fingers lace. His other palm spreads wide over my lower belly, bearing down so I feel him even more.
“Right here,” he growls. “Gonna flood this sweet womb. Gonna watch you swell with my child. You’ll carry me inside you, wife. Proof you’re mine.”
The words light me up. I arch, meeting every thrust, rocking my hips to take him deeper. Sweat slicks our skin. The wet slap of our bodies fills the cabin—filthy, perfect.
“I’m close,” I gasp. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop. Come inside me. Give it to me.”
He leans down and kisses me hard, tongue stroking mine in time with his hips. Then he pulls back to watch my face.
“Come for me first,” he orders. “Let me feel you clench when you do. Then I’ll fill you.”
I’m already there—coiling tight, pleasure cresting fast. My thighs shake. My voice cracks open.
“Rafe—I’m coming—fuck, I’m coming—”
The orgasm crests over me. I cry out full sentences, loud and shameless, my walls pulsing around him, milking him hard. He groans my name, thrusts turning erratic, desperate.
“That’s it,” he rasps. “Take it. Take every drop.”
He slams deep one last time and stills—cock throbbing, pulsing hot inside me. I feel the first thick spurt, then another, flooding me so full it’s overwhelming. He grinds slow, forcing it deeper, making sure nothing escapes.
I’m shaking. Full. Claimed.
Pressing my lips to his throat, I don’t say anything at all. Some things are bigger than words—even for a girl who just got hers back.
He stays buried, hand hovering warm and certain over my belly, forehead resting against mine.
We’re both panting.
Both smiling.
Both home.
After a long moment, his lips brush my ear. “Gonna stay right here. Until you’re bred. Until there’s no question.”
I whisper against his mouth, “More. I want more. Don’t pull out yet.”
He doesn’t.
He stays buried, forehead resting against mine.
I’m trembling—legs locked around him, arms wrapped tight across his back, nails digging half-moons into his skin. The aftershocks ripple through me, sharp and sweet, and I can’t stop the words that spill out.
“Yes—yes, Rafe, I feel it. So full. So much of you.” My heart squeezes inside my chest. “I’m yours. Completely yours.”
He doesn’t pull out. Instead he rolls us carefully so I’m tucked against his chest, his cock buried deep, softening but not leaving.His hand slides down to rest over my lower belly—wide, warm, possessive.
“Right here.” His thumb strokes slow circles. “Our future. Already starting.”
I cover his hand with mine. The skin is still flushed, still sensitive. I can feel the faint throb of him inside me, the slow leak of his release as my body tries to hold on to every bit. It’s messy. It’s perfect.
Tears prick my eyes—not from pain, not from fear. From an emotion far bigger.
“I was quiet for so long.” My voice is hoarse but steady. “I forgot what it felt like to say anything at all. And now I can’t stop. I love you. I love this. I love that you made me feel safe enough to speak again.”
