“Because you are. And seeing you like this—carrying my child—only makes me want you more. I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
We move to the bed, and I guide her down carefully, one hand at her back, the other steadying her until she’s comfortable.
I’m more aware of her now. More deliberate. Like every movement matters.
There’s no rush.
I take my time, kissing her collarbone, the curve of her fuller breasts, rediscovering the parts of her that have changed and the parts that are still so familiar.
Her fingers move through my hair, and the soft sounds she makes settle somewhere deep in my chest.
I shift over her, careful to keep my weight off her.
“I’ve missed you so much, Dane,” she says, her breath catching. “I need to feel you inside me.”
The words hit me harder than they should.
I reach between us and guide my cock to her entrance, my tip feeling her warmth before I move. I pause for a second, watching her face, making sure she’s comfortable, making sure she’s ready.
Then I ease into her slowly.
Controlled.
Careful.
Just the first inch.
It takes damn near every ounce of restraint I possess.
Her warmth closes around me, and I stay there, holding still, every bit of self-control pulled tight.
She looks up at me and grins.
“Dane.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, mixed with impatience. “Is that it? You’re going to stop there?”
I hold her gaze.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Either of you.”
“You won’t.” Her hand slides to my lower back, urging me closer. “Give me more.”
I move another inch, slow and careful, watching her face for any sign I should stop. She exhales, and her grip tightens.
“It’s been six months,” she says, her breath catching. “I need more than that.”
“I’m scared to—” The words catch in my throat. “After last time.”
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Everything’s fine this time. You don’t have to be afraid.”
I search her face.
“No bleeding? No cramping?”
“None.”
“You’ll tell me if it hurts?” I ease in a little more, holding back far more than I want to. “Promise me.”
