My name.
She knew it was him making love to her. Accepted and craved his touch. Emboldened by this knowledge, he pushed at the hem of her shirt, lifting it over the swell of her breasts and revealing her ripe peaches cupped in a plain white bra. She didn’t need lace or wires to present her breasts. They were perfect.
Fuller than before, he discovered when he unsnapped the clasp at the back, and yet still high, rounded, and…
“Your nipples are darker.” He made the observation aloud and could have kicked himself when she went to cover herself with her hands as if shy or embarrassed.
“That happened during the pregnancy.”
The reminder made his lips tighten, and he almost pulled away at the reminder he’d failed. But he held back.
If he left now, would she wonder if it was because he’d said something about her body? He never wanted Renny to feel anything less than perfect, and right now, given she bit her lower lip and still covered herself, he could see she wondered if he still found her attractive.
If you only knew how gorgeous I find you, baby, and how many times you saved me from falling forever into darkness.
He pried her hands away so he could stare at those delicious tits—and they were yummy, enough that his mouth watered. He glanced at her and made sure to catch her gaze. “You’re beautiful.”
She made a noise. “You’re just saying that. I know that I’m heavier than I used to be, and I’ve got stretch marks.”
The extra curve to her frame looked better than fine to him. A man liked a little cushion for the pushing. As to the marks she bore... “You have stretch marks, and I have scars. What of it?” He shrugged. “Life sucks. Shit happens. Sometimes it leaves behind a signature to remind you.” Like the fire had left its mark, and yet, in the flames, he’d reclaimed his freedom, so it was a reminder he didn’t mind. “Some scars you wear as badges of honor.” Such as the marks that meant she’d given birth to life. My son. How could she think he would dislike the signs left behind? He traced the skin on her belly, the light silvery trails not bothering him one bit.
She ran her hand down his marred cheek, and he shivered as she touched the never fully healed skin. “You’ve changed.”
Yes. And no. Since he’d left the military, he didn’t let his other side out. He no longer changed. “I won’t deny I went through some stuff that affected me, and yet, in some ways, I remain the same. I never stopped caring for you.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Her gaze dropped, and a slight tension tightened her frame.
Smooth move, idiot. You ruined the moment.
Caleb expected her to move away, but she surprised him by leaning forward and capturing his mouth, slanting her lips across his and fiercely kissing him, her teeth clashing against his in her frenzy.
If she preferred to act instead of talk, he was good with that. He was starved for her touch, and given how she undulated against him, he wasn’t the only one. She lay back against the couch, and he partially covered her, his body on its side that he might still let his hands roam.
Her Capri-style yoga pants were form-fitting, perfect for a hand that wanted to cup her mound. The heat of her scorched through the fabric, and the moisture of her arousal dampened as well.
Her hips rolled as he pressed the heel of his hand against her, and her breath came in pants. While he rubbed, his lips kept busy pulling and nipping at the nipples that he’d exposed.
Her fingers dug into his scalp, holding him to her breast, her soft mewls of encouragement driving him on.
The heat of her flesh taunted him through her pants. He needed to touch her. Now.
He slid his hand under the waistband and then under the elastic band of her panties. He slid his fingers through downy curls and heard her suck in a breath.
Farther he explored, the tip of his finger touching the damp edge of her nether lips. He parted them before inserting a digit.
Hot. Wet. Tight.
Oh fuck.
He pushed his finger into her, wishing it was his throbbing cock instead, but he didn’t want to rush things. Didn’t want to ruin this moment.
His mission—give her pleasure. He wanted to hear her cry his name. To feel her climax on his fingers or, even more deliciously, on his tongue.
He inserted a second finger in her, stretching her channel, and as he pumped her sex, he bit down on her nipple while she chanted, “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Her body tensed as she approached the edge. Faster. Faster.
“Yes! Yes!”
The blood-curdling scream didn’t come from Renny.
Chapter Ten
“Mommy!” The sharp, shrill scream shattered the moment more effectively than a bucket of cold water.
“Luke!” she cried his name, even as she leaped from the couch. Renny hurriedly tugged down her shirt as she scrambled around the furniture to get to the bedroom.