My vision blurs.
I don’t understand how it’s possible to feel this much this quickly, but I do. I already love this child with a fierceness I can'texplain. And I know, without question, that I'll protect this baby with the same instinct that makes me protect Charlotte.
“You’re not going to hurt him,” she says.
The last word catches.
“Him?”
She winces.
“Oh, damn. I was going to surprise you.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
“You’ve surprised me plenty already.” I search her face for a second. “It’s a boy?”
She nods, smiling. “It’s a boy.”
I look at her. Then at my hand resting on her stomach. At the curve of her carrying him.
“Another son.”
Her hand comes up to my face, and I lean into it without thinking.
“You’ve made me so happy.”
The words come out rougher than I intended.
Then I kiss her again. This time there’s no holding back.
Not reckless.
Not careless.
Just complete.
I move with her, slower at first, then deeper, the restraint slipping just enough. She meets me with it, her hands tightening at my back, her breath breaking against my shoulder.
“Dane—”
I bury my face against her neck, the weight of the months apart finally breaking.
It builds steadily, not rushed, just inevitable. Her body tightens around me, her nails pressing into my back, her breath catching.
I sense it before she makes a sound—the way she tightens around me, sudden and deep, pulling me in as it moves through her.
“Oh God, Dane. I’m coming.”
She feels different. The pregnancy has changed her in ways I hadn’t expected.
I thrust a fraction deeper, and she tightens again, sharper this time, and her breath breaks against my shoulder. “Ahh… Dane.”
“I’ve got you,” I whisper against her skin. “I’ve always got you.”
Her hips move, chasing the feeling. I keep my weight off her, steady above her, letting her set the pace.
Letting her have exactly what she needs.
