Page 134 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

She shivers as my fingers brush her spine. "I'm glad you think so."

When I finally get the last button undone, the dress slides off her shoulders and pools at her feet. She's wearing white lace underneath, delicate and feminine, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her.

Her body has changed over the past months. Her breasts are fuller, her hips slightly rounder, and the small bump of our baby is visible now. She's never been more beautiful.

I pull her against me, my hands spanning her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin lace. "My wife," I murmur against her neck.

"Your wife," she agrees, tilting her head to give me better access.

I kiss along her throat, down to her collarbone, tasting her skin. She makes a soft sound that goes straight to my cock, and I'm suddenly desperate to have her, to claim her completely as mine.

I lift her easily, carrying her to the bed. She wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, kissing me with a hunger that matches my own. When I lay her down on the mattress, she immediately starts working on my tie, pulling it loose and tossing it aside.

"This suit is too nice to wrinkle," she says, her fingers moving to my buttons.

"Then help me get it off."

We work together, stripping away my clothes until I'm down to just my boxer briefs. Her hands roam over my chest, tracing the tattoos that cover my skin, and I shudder at her touch.

I hook my fingers in the waistband of her lace panties and slide them down her legs, revealing her completely. She's already wet, ready for me, and the sight makes my cock throb with need.

I settle between her thighs, kissing her deeply as I position myself at her entrance. She's so warm, so perfect, and when I push inside her, we both groan at the sensation.

"Emil," she breathes, her nails digging into my shoulders.

I start to move, slow and deep, savoring every inch of her. Her body accepts me perfectly, clenching around me in perfect rhythm. I brace myself on my forearms, looking down at her face as I thrust.

Her eyes are half-closed, lips parted, and cheeks flushed with pleasure. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"Harder," she whispers.

I oblige, increasing my pace, driving into her with more force. The bed rocks beneath us, and she arches up to meet each thrust, her breasts bouncing with the movement. I lean down to capture one nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, and she cries out.

"Yes," she gasps. "Just like that."

I can feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering around my cock. I reach between us, finding her clit and rubbing in tight circles. She comes with a sharp cry, her whole body tensing and shaking beneath me.

The sensation of her orgasm pushes me over the edge. I thrust deep one last time and let go, spilling inside her with a groan that comes from deep in my chest.

We stay locked together for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. Finally, I roll to the side, pulling her with me so she's draped across my chest.

"That was a pretty good wedding night," she says, her voice drowsy.

I laugh, running my fingers through her hair. "Just pretty good?"

"Okay, really good." She tilts her head up to look at me, and there's something soft in her expression. Something that looks almost like love. "Thank you for today. For everything."

"Thank you," I say, meaning it. "For the suit. For the dress. For saying yes."

She smiles and settles back against my chest, her hand resting over my heart. Within minutes, her breathing evens out and she's asleep.

I lie there in the darkness, holding my wife, feeling our child growing between us, and for the first time in my life, I feel complete.

EPILOGUE: KIERA

Another contraction rips through me, and I grip the edge of the bed so hard, my knuckles turn white. The pain is intense, overwhelming, and all I want is for this to be over. But instead of the calm, focused environment I'd imagined for this moment, I'm surrounded by chaos.

"Breathe, Kiera. Remember to breathe." That's Kevin, hovering on my left side with his hand on my shoulder like he's coaching me through a marathon.