With intentional strokes, I glide in and out, absorbing the warmth of her delicate body. I bite my lip, and my legs tense to hold back and remain gentle while everything in me begs to power into her. To lose myself completely and claim her with an aggression that she’ll feel for days.
Her breathing gets heavy, puffs of air from her lips mixed with the tender whispers of my name. My chest swells with pride, love, and devotion to her, us, our family. Our future.
She rocks back into me, asking for more, letting me know that she can take it. I quicken my pace, but lock down the urge to go deeper. She moans and I know she’s close. I rock into her again and again then lean forward and kiss her shoulder once before pulling at her skin with my teeth.
Her head flies back in a flurry of blond hair, and she groans my name through open lips. With her head turned slightly, I push up and claim her mouth. Her tongue pushes past my teeth, and I suck it deep into my mouth, hoping she can taste herself. Leveraging against the couch, she rocks back into me.
I grin, small and quick, before pulling back and stilling her hips with my hands. “Easy.”
She drops her head heavy and stills to allow me to control the speed and depth. Starting slowly, I pull almost all the way out and then glide back in. She moans. I do it again, a little faster, and pick up the speed with every thrust.
“Don’t stop . . .” Her muscles tense and thrust forward through the gripping pressure, knowing she’s close.
She reaches back with one hand, and her nails dig into the flesh of my hips, spurring me on. I lean over, resting my hand on hers that grips the back of the couch, holding her in place as I roll my hips with a final thrust that tips her over the edge. She pants through the orgasm that shreds through her body while I hold her firmly to me.
I drop kisses along her shoulder until I feel her body relaxing. “You good, baby?”
“Mmmm . . .” Damn if there isn’t a smile in her moan.
I push up and start to move, satisfied that my woman is ready for more. With a tightening in my gut, I throw more weight behind my hips, again and again, then nuzzle my forehead into her back. I want to shout how much I love her, write her fucking poetry, and quote romantic sonnets, but instead I bite against the roar of my own release. My eyes pinch closed as the intensity washes over me, making me dizzy for a second before the feeling in my legs comes back.
“You okay?” I kiss her shoulder and move my hand from her hip to wrap around our baby in her belly. “If anything’s going to throw you into labor”—I pant, catching my breath—“it’s that orgasm.” I roll my forehead against her shoulder. “Damn, thought that thing would kill me.”
She giggles, soft but throaty, and the sound alone has me hardening again. “You always say that.”
“What?” I push up and massage her lower back. “I do not.”
She pushes up and leans back into my chest, keeping our connection. “Yeah . . . you do.”
“Well shit, Mouse, surprised I’m not dead by now.” I pull away and dip down to grab her panties and shorts. “Wanna clean up before you put these back on?”
“No, I’ll put them on just in case Axelle’s home. Good thing this room is sound proof.” Her eyes widen. “Can you imagine if I ran out of here naked from the waist down and she had friends with her out there?” Her hand covers her mouth and she laughs.
“She’ll be away at college before you know it, and then you can do all the streaking through the house that your little heart desires.” I tuck myself back inside my sleeping pants then drop to my knees. Layla puts a hand on my shoulder to steady herself while I help her into her panties and shorts.
I glance up and see our baby growing in her belly. My hands move to her on instinct, drawn to the child that any day now I’ll hold in my arms. I put my lips to Layla’s belly. “Hey, baby, listen . . . I have to leave town for a few hours tomorrow. You be good and don’t give your mama or Uncle Brae a hard time, okay?” I press my ear to her belly. “You’ll be good for Mom, but not your Uncle, huh?” I shrug and move my lips against her skin. “Good enough, but um . . . one more thing.” My throat gets tight as if I’m carrying a ten-pound weight inside it. “I love you. I’ll always love you. I’ll be the first and the last man who’ll love you ’til his dying breath. You hear that, baby? First and the last.”
Layla’s breath hitches in her throat, and I take the moment to close my eyes and settle into the feeling. Love. Unconditional love in all its fucking glory and all around me.
With that, I can face insurmountable obstacles, and a half-day visit with my parents tops that list.
Twelve
Blake
It’s eight fifteen a.m. when we pull up to the airport. I thought I’d be up all night with worry, but with our making love in The Room combined with Layla’s warm body pressed against mine, I slept like the dead.