“Call it whatever you need to, Chelcie, but just know you are mine.”
She’s silent for a while. I move my hand and curl it around her neck, adding a little pressure so she knows to come closer. My lips kiss her forehead, her eyes, her nose, and finally, her mouth.
“I won’t share you. I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you with one of those sluts, Asher. If we’re going to do this, I need to know that, if I give myself to you, you’re doing the same. I need complete trust and honesty.”
“And it’s yours,” I whisper against her lips.
Her eyes flash, the need that I feel burning through my body shining through those remarkable eyes of hers. This close, I can see the amber color that usually only shows when she’s mad overtaking the brown.
Burning for me.
“There’s no turning back,” I reiterate.
“One-way street, baby.”
I close my eyes and let that word, that endearment, wash over me. I’ve never had that. My mother damn sure never called us anything other than shit. And the only other attempt at a relationship never produced anything like that.
It’s almost pathetic how one little word can bring me to my knees, but her hushed baby does. I open my eyes and move the distance needed to feel her lips against mine again. She opens immediately and our tongues roll and dance together. Even though every part of my body is screaming to take her hard, to claim her now, I want to savor every second of this.
Running my hands down her back, into her panties, and taking her firm ass in my hands has my cock straining the fabric of my boxer briefs. I haven’t been this hard since I saw my first Playboy and wondered where the hell they had been my whole life. I fucking crave her. Digging my fingers in the tight muscles, I lift and groan when she wraps her legs around my waist. The feeling of her heat against me makes me feel like I’m seconds from coming.
I don’t break the kiss for a second, walking blindly towards the bed. Reaching back, I deftly unsnap her bra, easing each strap down her arms before pulling and throwing it over my shoulder. I slowly lower her down. Her back hits the mattress, but I quickly move my hands from her ass to her hips, letting her know not to move her long legs from my waist. Words aren’t needed—not when our bodies are screaming at each other.
Taking my time, I run my fingertips from shoulder to shoulder, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. I trail my path with my eyes, lazily drinking her in. My hand moves from her collarbone, down the center of her chest before running along the curve of her heavy breast. Her tits are perfect. Heavy and firm. Pink nipples beg for my lips and my teeth. I bring my other hand into play and cup her in my hands, rubbing my thumb across each nipple and loving every second of her eyes widening before she bites her lip and shudders.
I move my hands farther down, the goose bumps following their path. Her chest is starting to heave with her effort at keeping still. I can tell how badly she wants me. The evidence is soaking through both of our underwear.
“I want you so badly,” she moans.
“Shh,” I have no words for her, no reassurances that I’ll move quicker because I don’t want to. I plan on taking my time with her.
When my hands get to her stomach, the stomach that holds my family, I’m momentarily overcome with emotion. I’ve never been one to believe in second chances, at something bigger at play with my life, but knowing that this baby is a part of my brother makes me want to weep. I don’t think that Chelcie will ever know what this means to me.
“Your stomach is so small,” I marvel. Instantly, fear takes the place of awe. “Is everything okay? Shouldn’t you be bigger?”
She giggles a little, the sound once again going straight to my dick, “Everything’s fine. I’m measuring small, but the doctors say that will change as the weeks pass. I have… I had a rough start to my pregnancy. I was sick a lot.”
I nod, but really, I don’t understand. I make a mental note to ask her and the doctor about it later.
My hands continue to caress the smooth skin of her slightly rounded bump. I could stand here for hours, but the legs around my hips squeeze me tighter.
“I wasn’t kidding, Ash. I need you. It’s been so long,” she whimpers.
When I roll my hips against her wet core, she cries out, and I could pump my fist in the air when I realize how receptive she is to me.
I motion for her to release my hips, moving my hand to hers and pulling her to the edge of the bed before I kneel between her spread legs. The smell of her arousal is intoxicating.