All of those rumors are definitely true.
"You're flushed," Caulter notes as he looks at me, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Hormones," I say. The pregnancy hormones are out of control. I thought the second trimester was crazy, but the third trimester is even more intense. I find myself wanting to rip Caulter's clothes off all the time, on edge almost immediately at the mere thought of him inside me.
Caulter has been very obliging, of course.
"I love these hormones of yours, you know," Caulter whispers, his breath warm against my ear. The heat from his mouth sends a shiver down my spine. When he trails his lips lower, touching the sensitive place below my ear before moving down my neck, the shiver turns into a very visible shudder.
"Why am I not surprised?" I ask.
Caulter laughs. "If I'd had known how hot this would be, I would have tried to knock you up a long time ago."
"Classy," I say, the word more of a murmur than anything coherent as he slides his hand over my chest, cupping my breast through the fabric of my shirt.
"What's that, Princess?" Caulter asks. He runs his thumb across my nipple. It comes to attention underneath my bra, the response immediate. "If you think that was classy, you're going to love your gift."
I inhale sharply through my teeth as he slides his finger underneath the top of my bra. "We said no gifts," I remind him. "The wedding…and the baby…"
"Yes?" he asks, looking at me as his finger continues to work its magic, stroking my nipple. He loves to tease me, knowing that my breasts are even more sensitive as the pregnancy goes on.
"We agreed…those were our gifts…" My breath is short, my words punctuated with little inhales as he continues to touch me. He smiles knowingly, aware of the fact that I'm wet for him, knowing that if he reached between my legs right now he'd find I'm ready.
"We needed a new piece of furniture in the bedroom anyway," he whispers, taking his hand away from what it was doing and threading his fingers through mine.
"Oh no," I groan. "What did you buy?"
"Come here," he says, leading me toward the bedroom, where he gestures toward a modern-looking cream-colored leather chair with bronze decorative studs that dot the length of the edge. "You got a…chair?"
Don't get me wrong – it's a pretty chair. With long, lean lines and modern curves, it's elegant-looking but…it's kind of an odd surprise gift.
Caulter just smiles, pulling me toward it. "It's not just any chair," he says.
"What, it has magical powers?"
He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe," he says. "Come here and I'll show you."
I laugh. "Show me what?"
Caulter reaches for my shirt, raising it over my head before I can object, then drops to his knees. He slides his palms over my stomach, pausing to tenderly caress my pregnant belly. He kisses my stomach, grinning as he looks up at me. "Have I told you today how sexy you are?"
I laugh. "Not nearly enough," I tease.
"Well, I should make sure to catch up on that," he says. "Because I'd hate for my pregnant fiancé to think she's anything except the sexiest woman in the world." He grasps the sides of my cotton skirt in his hands and yanks the fabric over my hips, where it falls into a pool at my feet.
"Your pregnant fiancé is starting to feel somewhat unsexy," I say, my hands clasped over my belly. I'm far past the second trimester, when my cute little belly had just popped out and I was finally looking pregnant. Now I'm less comfortable and I think I've developed a waddle when I walk.
"That's unfortunate," Caulter says, his hands moving up my legs. He cups my ass cheeks, making a growling sound deep in his throat, the one that reveals his obvious approval of my body. Then he slides my panties over my hips and tosses them aside. "Because I seem to have developed quite a thing for pregnant women."
I arch my eyebrow. "Women, plural?"
"This pregnant woman, specifically," he says, spreading my legs. He inhales deeply between my legs before covering my * with his mouth. When he explores me with his tongue, the heat from his mouth envelops me, distracting me from all of the self-conscious thoughts about my body. He makes approving sounds as he licks me, and hearing that from him makes me able to let go of the nagging self-consciousness and enjoy his touch.
He slides his fingers inside me, his mouth covering my clit, and the sensation nearly pushes me over the edge. Everything seems so much more sensitive now, and Caulter knows that. So he torments me by working his magic between my legs for what seems like an eternity, then denies me. "Not yet," he says, standing with his hand in mine.