Page 44

I’ve been looking at her every day for two months. I’ve seen her in every kind of light. In heat, in sleep, covered in flour, covered in honey, covered in leaves.

I’ve never seen her look like this.

Her skin’s glowing in the firelight. Her breasts are full and heavy, nipples darker than they used to be. And right there, just above where she’s straddling me, that soft curve. Barely anything. You’d only see it if you knew.

I put my hand on it. Spread my fingers wide. My hand covers her whole belly, hip to hip.

“That’s me in there,” I say. My voice comes out rough. “Half of me. Growing inside you.”

She covers my hand with hers.

“I know, baby.”

“I put that there.” I slide my other hand up her back and pull her in close, until my mouth is right next to her ear. “I filled you up so many times during your heat that something took root.”

She shudders.

“And now every day,” I growl, “you get a little rounder. A little fuller. And every single person in this valley can look at you and know what I did to you.”

“Rowan…”

I take her nipple in my mouth.

She cries out, loud, her whole body jerking in my lap. The chair rocks. I suck gently, then harder, my tongue flicking slow over the tip, and she grinds down on me and grabs my hair with both hands. She’s so sensitive now. Every little thing makes her shake.

I move to the other one. She sobs.

I can feel her slick soaking through my pants. Hot and wet, rubbing against my cock through the fabric every time she rocks her hips. Every time the chair rocks.

I open my pants and pull my cock out, and it’s so hard it hurts. I wrap my hand around it and drag the head through her pussy, slow, from her hole all the way up to her clit. She’s swollen and soaked and so hot I can feel her pulse beating against the tip.

She moans and tries to sink down on me.

I hold her still.

“Slow,” I tell her. “You’re carrying. I’m not going to rush this.”

“Rowan, I’m pregnant, not glass…”

“I know exactly what you are.” I rub the head of my cock over her clit again, and she whimpers. “Slow.”

I line myself up and let her down, inch by inch.

Fuck.

She’s tighter than she used to be. Hotter. Her body’s changed everywhere, inside too, swollen and soft and gripping me so hard I have to grit my teeth. I feel the head of my cock push into her, feel her open around it, and then every ridge of my grain sliding in one at a time while her pussy squeezes down on each one. It goes on forever. She’s trembling. I’m trembling. Her nails are digging into my shoulders.

When she finally sits all the way down on me, with my knot pressed up against her, we both just stop and breathe.

The chair rocks back. Slow. Then forward.

And she moans, because the chair just moved me inside her.

She looks at me with her eyes wide. I look back.

Then I put my feet flat on the floor and start to rock.

It’s not fucking. Not really. It’s slower than that. The chair tips back and pulls me out of her an inch. It tips forward and pushes me back in. Back. Forward. Back. Slow and steady, never stopping, every rock dragging my cock over that spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back.