“Why?”
Her cheeks flush. “I just—I haven’t been able to take care of myself the way I’d like to after having Ella.”
Does she think I won’t want her?
That this body—the one that carried our daughter, and grew life—is anything less than fucking perfect?
I rest my hand on hers before gently pushing it away, keeping eye contact with her the entire time.
Then I move down and kiss her stomach.
Every inch.
Every faint line. Every place she’s trying to hide. Open-mouthed and reverent. I drag my tongue along the lower curve, tasting her warm skin, and murmur against her, “I love this body. It gave me the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to see the changes. To feel the first kicks, to help you through the birth—everything. I’m sorry I missed it all, Tiff. But I’m here now.”
My mouth drifts lower. I kiss the scalloped edge of her panties, then trace the line with the flat of my tongue. She makes a broken little yelp as her thighs collapse against me.
Just as I hook my fingers under the lace to drag it down, her hands fist in my hair and tug me back up.
“Not—not that,” she breathes, her cheeks flushed, her pupils blown. “Not tonight. I’m… I’m not ready for that.”
“Okay.” No hesitation. No pressure. Just a low, rough promise. “Then we do whatever feels good to you.”
I guide her higher on the bed, settle between her thighs with only the thin barrier of her soaked lace and the damp towel still knotted at my hips. Her soft, shaky breathing is the only sound that fills the room, a noise I could listen to on repeat forever.
I drop my mouth to the sensitive spot beneath her ear, sucking lightly while my hands roam possessively over her ribs, her waist, her hips.
Her fingers find the knot of the towel, and with one hesitant tug, she pulls it away.
My cock springs free, thick and heavy, already leaking at the tip.
She looks down between us, her eyes widening and her lips parting on a stunned little laugh.
“Yeah… that’s not going to fit.”
I brush my nose against hers and kiss the tip until she smiles.
“It fit before,” I murmur as my lips graze her jaw. “But we don’t have to do that. We can just keep kissing if that’s what you want?”
I kiss her collarbone, but she pushes me back just enough for our eyes to meet.
“I want to keep going,” she whispers. Her hand trembles as she reaches for the bedside drawer, pulling out an unopened box of condoms.
Unopened.
The relief that washes over me over the fact it’s still sealed is fucking ridiculous. The girl hasn’t been on a date since this evening, and spends all her time with our daughter, so sheobviously hasn’t been sleeping around. Not that I can talk about exclusivity considering my history.
“I’m also on the pill,” she says.
“Okay.” Not wanting to take any chances, I open the box, pull out a condom, and rip open the packet. She watches me roll the latex down my length, her eyes wide, her lips parted, and her breathing shallow. I won’t deny the way she looks at me makes my dick harder than before.
She hooks her thumbs into the lace at her hips and slides her panties down her thighs, kicking them off.
I lower myself, kissing her slowly, our tongues sliding against each other in a lazy rhythm.
I settle my cock along her slit, not pushing in yet—just gliding. Up. Down. Coating myself in her slick heat until every slow drag makes us both groan.
When her head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat, I follow it with open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently, then harder, marking her just enough that she’ll feel me tomorrow.