When she demanded to know why he didn’t try harder, he’d said, “After what I’d done, I felt she needed you more than I did.”
Her mother’s role in her painful past had been difficult to digest, but Daniella had accepted it and forgiven her. People made poor decisions when they loved deeply. She knew all about that.
“I think it’s a good idea to go see them,” Cyrus said. “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing his grandson in the flesh.”
“He is, so you’ll have to let someone else hold Michael for a change.”
He chuckled. “I’ll consider it.”
She kissed his forehead. “You need to go to sleep,” she said, pushing away his hands, even though she enjoyed his touch. “You have a big day tomorrow and you’ve had a crazy weekend.”
“I’m still awake,” he pointed out, looking down at the rise in his pants.
“Behave.” She slapped his roving hand, but he pulled her down on top of him.
“At least turn off the lights,” she whispered.
“No way. I want to look at you. I never get tired of looking at you.”
Daniella smiled contentedly and rewarded her husband with a deep kiss. She appreciated him so much, and how could she not love him when he constantly reassured her she was still as beautiful and sexy as ever?
She was self-conscious about the weight she hadn’t taken off since the baby’s arrival, but Cyrus didn’t seem to mind at all. It bothered her, though. Maybe because she’d always been thin, but she wanted to get as close to her former weight as possible. She’d recently hired a personal trainer to help her lose those last pounds, and since he was a sadistic drill sergeant, she expected to be back to her old self in no time.
Their lovemaking was an unhurried exploration where his hands brushed across her nipples and moved slowly along the contours of her waist and hips. His mouth trailed over her nakedness in the same leisurely fashion and, as if to reassure her, he kissed her rounded belly and the stretch marks on her hips, which he affectionately called her “tiger stripes.”
She welcomed him between her legs with a contented sigh. His hips rocked back and forth—slowly, gently. Moaning and matching his movements, she wrapped her arms around his strong neck as tension tightened in her belly. Gradually, their breathing became sporadic and their words came out like broken beats of heated air. When she climaxed, her entire body gripped his—arms, legs, even teeth, which she sank into his shoulder.
Afterward, he turned out the lights and she lay her head on his shoulder, an arm thrown across his firm stomach. They lay quietly, with him lightly rubbing her bare back, from her shoulder blades down to the curve in her lower spine.
“Michael’s getting so big,” Cyrus said after a few minutes.
“Babies grow fast,” she agreed. She fell silent, but she couldn’t sleep. “Are you still awake?” she asked, when he had stopped caressing her back.
“Mhmm.”
“Can we get our own place in Costa del Sol? I love it there. Nothing big. Maybe one of those little white houses on the hillside near Mijas, with a rooftop terrace and a little yard. Or even a place on the beach. Something with a few bedrooms. One for us, Michael, and our next one.” They’d discussed having at least one more child.
“Sure. I’ll get Shaun to do some research and you can decide what you want.”
“I want you to choose with me,” she said, watching his profile in the darkness.
“Okay, whatever you want.” He was slipping fast. She could hear it in his speech.
She pressed her nose to his neck. She loved to smell him. “Thank you. You’re such a sweetheart.”
He growled. “Stop calling me that. You make it sound like I’m a big softie.”
“You are,” she teased. “You’re my big softie. My teddy bear.”
“I’m a grizzly bear.”
“No matter what you say, you’re my teddy bear.”
“Grizzly,” he countered. Of course he’d have to have the last word.