"Wonderful," she whispered. "Dean-"
"And this?" He weighed the flesh in his palms.
"I cannot stand much more," she admitted shakily. The pregnancy had taken a strange turn. She had gone from being plagued by dizziness and nausea, combined with awful cravings, to a sexual appetite that threatened to overwhelm her. He had balked at the idea of making love to her at first, due to the various complications, but she had remedied that by forcing the issue.
"I'm just getting started." Letting go of her breasts, he drew the sheets down, his entire body tightening at the sight of her. She had started to show when she reached six months, and the bulgeof her belly was the most fascinating and sexiest thing he had ever seen. Each time he looked at her, he could feel the pride as well as the heat of desire welling up inside him. This was his woman, his wife, his lover and very soon the woman who would make him a father. It overwhelmed him.
Using his hands, he cupped her belly and felt the familiar jolt when he felt the shimmer of movement. His eyes flew to her face, the wonder in his eyes making her smile.
"I think he very well might be an athlete, a famous NBA player."
"Or a swimmer." Her hands covered his. "The possibilities are endless."
"I'm going to make him proud," he vowed. "With you next to me, I will be the best father."
"I have no doubt about that." She lifted her hands as his hands started to roam over her belly. With his eyes on hers, he massaged the taut flesh slowly, feeling a spark of white-hot flame flashing through him when her belly stiffened. A groan sounded deep inside his throat.
"I should leave you alone."
"Why?"
"You're two months away from delivering my son and I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. Touch me. Please." Not waiting for him to comply, she pressed his hand down until he was touching the springy dark hairs covering her sex. When he started to rub the exposed flesh, she thought she was going to die.
"More."
"Not yet." His voice was thick, his body already reacting violently to the touch and sight of her.
"We have time." He slipped a finger into her and felt his heart slamming hard against his ribs as her lips parted and her thighs opened.
"You're wet."
"Yes," she gasped. "Dean-" She clamped a hand around his wrist as he drove into her slowly, gliding back out and then in again. The oil was making everything slippery and smooth. His breathing was harsh as he gazed at her face. The passion,undiluted and powerful, was already building. When she erupted on his fingers, he felt his knees buckling.
He knew it had to be now.
Climbing in behind her, he wrapped his arms around her thick waist and drove into her. Twisting her head around, she sought and found his lips, her body still vibrating. His lips seized hers just as he started moving. His body shuddered when he felt the baby moving against his fingers. A fierce wave of possessiveness hit him like a ton of bricks. This was his family. This beautiful woman and the baby she was carrying and there was nothing he would not do for them.
They belonged to him. For the first time in his life, he had a family.
Sliding his hand down, he covered her intimately, fingers rubbing the sensitive flesh. He swallowed her cries when she came again, her body convulsing. He tried to ease out to prolong the exquisite agony of being so deep inside her, but she prevented that by pressing her buttocks against him. He exploded inside her, his arm wrapped around her as he drove into her over and over again. It seemed like the climax would never end.
Lifting his mouth from hers, he buried his face between her neck and shoulder, his body still vibrating.
For a long moment, he continued to slide into her, the momentum slow and erotic. To his surprise, the climax he had thought had ended exploded again. Cupping her breasts, he fondled her nipples and had her climaxing again.
Afterwards, they simply held each other, their emotions raw and exposed. It occurred to him that with her there were many firsts. This was just one of them. He had never experienced climaxing a second time with a woman before. It humbled and slightly terrified him that he could feel so much, that this one petite woman could wring so much from him.
As if she could read his thoughts, she turned her head to look at him. "What are you thinking?" she asked quietly. She had felt the slight tension in his body just now.
"Nothing much," he admitted wryly, fingers sliding over her bulge. "Just that a year ago, I was drifting and lost. Now I'm right where I belong and it's scary as hell."
She smiled at him, that sweet smile that always grabbed him by the throat.
"Life has a way of throwing us wonderful curves."
"That's one way of putting it." He kissed her lips, the kiss sweet and light, stirring her senses and her blood. "I want more time with you. I've been praying to your God for the privilege of a hundred years. I find myself wondering if I had met you when I was in my twenties, if it would have made a difference."