He stood, taking me with him as he lifted me off my feet and spun me in a circle. I laughed loudly, clinging to him the way I always would. He laughed and set me back on my feet, but he didn’t let me go. His hands framed my face instead, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks like he needed to reassure himself I was real.
“Another baby,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re giving me another baby.”
“Our baby,” I corrected softly, my heart swelling at the wonder in his voice.
His gaze snapped back to mine, intense and bright. “Ours,” he agreed, and then he kissed me. This time it stole the air from my lungs. There was nothing careful about it. Nothing restrained. Every emotion he’d been holding back crashed into me at once. I gasped into his mouth, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer like I needed to feel all of it.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he muttered against my lips, his voice unsteady in a way I’d never heard before.
I cocked an eyebrow and challenged him. “Show me.”
That was all it took.
His control slipped, his hands moved with purpose now, sliding over my body, claiming his ownership. I arched into him instinctively, my breath catching as his touch turned possessive.
“Mine,” he said, like it wasn’t a demand but a truth.
“Yours,” I answered without hesitation.
The word seemed to hit him hard.
His forehead pressed briefly to mine, his breathing uneven, like he was holding himself on a knife’s edge. Then he moved, lifting me into his arms again. I laughed softly, the sound dissolving into a breathless sigh as he carried me toward our bedroom, my arms wrapping around him, my body already responding, already anticipating.
He didn’t rush. Every step, every touch, and every glance felt deliberate. Like he was committing this night to memory. When he lowered me onto the bed, it was with a tenderness that made my heart ache, but the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. It burned.
He followed me down immediately, bracing himself over me, his body surrounding mine, his heat pressing into me, grounding me, overwhelming me in the best possible way. I could feel his erection against me, hard and urgent.
“Tell me if I need to slow down,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I won’t break,” I whispered, my fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him toward me.
Something in him broke at that. His mouth claimed mine again, deeper, slower, like he was pouring everything he felt intothe kiss. I felt it in the way his hands tightened, the way his body pressed closer, the way his breathing grew heavier with each passing second.
“I’ll protect you and our children,” he murmured against my lips, the words rough but certain. “Always.”
My hands moved over him, familiar and sure, my fingers circling the hardness of his cock through his pants and he reacted instantly, his restraint thinning further, his control slipping in ways that made my pulse race.
“Fuck!” he hissed.
“Dmitri…” My response was a plea.
His hands slid down my sides, slower now, deliberate, like he was grounding himself. His gaze dropped to where my shirt clung to my skin, and something in his expression softened before it darkened again with intent.
“You’re still overdressed,” he murmured.
A small laugh escaped me, breathless and unsteady. “So are you.”
His fingers hooked into the hem of my shirt, lifting it inch by inch. The fabric slid over my skin, cool air replacing the warmth of his hands for a second before he leaned in again, his mouth following the path he’d just uncovered.
My breath hitched as his lips brushed my collarbone, slower now, more deliberate, like he was taking his time with me. Like I was something to be savored. I shivered as his lips brushed over my skin. He unhooked my bra and threw it on the floor as his lips found my nipples.
“Dmitri…” I breathed, my fingers already working at his clothes, impatient, needing him just as much as he needed me.
He didn’t make me wait. The rest of our clothes disappeared between us in practiced movements, neither of us slowing down, neither of us breaking the rhythm. Then he settled between my thighs like he belonged there.
“Missed this,” he muttered, his voice rough.
“You had me this morning,” I shot back, breathless.