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“Harder, Easton,” she commands, which takes me by surprise because I’m already fucking her pretty hard, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shakes her head. “You won’t. I need it, Easton. Please…”

I slam in harder on my next thrust, which causes her to let out a scream of pleasure. And then I push forward, again and again, keeping my eyes on her face so I can check to see if she’s in pain, but also watch every second of her coming undone.

Reaching between us, I find her clit with my thumb and circle it gently in the way I know will set her off.

“Yes. Right there. Oh God…keep going…”

Wetness pools between us as her pussy tightens around me and tremors rack her body as she cries out through her release. And with just a few more strokes, I free all of the pent-up pleasure I’ve been denying myself all weekend.

Hell, I’ve been denying myself far longer than that.

“Fuck, Lennon. Fuuuuccckkk…” I lose track of how many spurts of cum leave my body, filling her with all of it, making sure she feels me for days after so she won’t forget who made her come this fucking hard.

Because I know I’ll never forget.

When the last aftershock racks us both, I rest my head on her shoulder and keep myself propped above her so I don’t crush her.

Her hands stay buried in my hair, gripping the dark strands like a life preserver. When she releases me, I lift my head to meet her gaze.

And I’m done. Finished. Never going to be the same again.

Because the way she’s staring at me right now is exactly how I always wished she would. This is how I imagined this moment would feel.

What happened between us changed everything, whether she realizes it yet or not.

I lean down and press a soft kiss to her lips before sliding out of her and rolling off to the side.

Lennon turns toward me as I prop myself on one arm. I pull her closer by the hips and rest my forehead against hers.

“Easton?”

“Yeah, baby…”

“We just had sex.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, Lennon. We did.”

“You called me baby and sweetheart, and…”

Leaning back, I study her face. I look for any sign of regret in her eyes, grateful to find none. But that doesn’t mean her questions aren’t fueled by confusion over the shift in our relationship.

I move my lips toward hers, pressing another soft kiss to her mouth. “My wife,” I finish for her. “Don’t forget that you’re also my wife.”

“I know. It’s just…”

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Lennon?” I interject as my heart pounds in my chest, but the last thing I want is Lennon running from what we shared.

“Too much,” she answers on a whisper.

“Give me something, please. Anything.”

“Well, I’m—I’m thinking that was probably the best sex of my life.”

The corner of my mouth lifts as I pull her closer, her bump pressing into my lower stomach. I expected to be more conscious of it during sex, but I was fixated on everything else. Now, feeling the baby growing inside her reminds me how this shift in our dynamic began.