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His eyes are fixed on some point over my head. “Don’t waste your time worrying about me, Luna. I can handle it.”
“But I am worried about you. Because this is all happening to you, too. You’re going to be a dad. That’s wild. I need to give you space to worry and process, too. I was just overwhelmed and amped up on baby hormones. A double dose of hormones, I think, since there are two of them in there. I don’t know if that is scientifically accurate, but it feels right.”
“I’ll ask Dr. Jenkins.”
“Or maybe I’ll ask Dr. Jenkins,” I counter, stepping closer. “I’d love to have a little more control over my appointments and when I need to call the doctor. I’d also like more control over other things like… using my own legs.” He narrows his eyes and I quickly cross the room to stand in front of him. “You have been taking amazing care of me, Yakov. I’m so grateful. There was a time when I didn’t know if you’d even want to be around for me and the baby.”
“Of course I’m going to be there for my kids,” he growls. “I wouldn’t abandon them.”
I nod. “I know that now. And I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me and for them. Truly. But I also need to feel like a capable human. I need to be strong to give birth to two babies. I need to keep exercising and using my body. That’s part of a healthy pregnancy.”
He reaches out and touches my cheek. “You were bleeding.”
“And Dr. Jenkins told you it was normal,” I remind him. “I’m okay. Our babies are okay.”
He’s holding himself so rigidly that I know he’s fighting all of his instincts to pull me close and not let me go.
I slide my hand down his arm to his wrist. “What if I promise to ask you for help when I need it? Like, when I’m ginormously pregnant and my feet are swollen, I’ll probably be begging you to carry me around.”
His mouth is pressed into a stubborn line, but he can’t keep the spark out of his eyes.
“I look forward to hearing you beg,” he says softly.
I walk around him and pull the sitting room’s pocket doors closed. Then I flick the brass lock into place and turn to face him. “Why wait? You could hear me beg now.”
He assesses me coolly. “Beg for what, specifically?”
I put my arms around his neck and draw close. Our bodies slide together as I press onto my toes and kiss him.
He kisses me back, but his hands stay down at his sides. He’s holding himself away from me in a way he usually doesn’t. So I grab the front of his shirt and pull him with me until my back is pressed against the wall and I’m pinned in by his body. “Please,” I whisper between kisses.
“You were bleeding yesterday,” he says again. “Yesterday.”
“That was normal.”
He presses his hand flat to the wall next to my head and pushes himself away. “You need more time to rest.”
I hear Mariya’s words in my head. He can protect you and the babies with everything he fucking has. Right now, that’s all he has.
I don’t want to take that away from him.
But I’m also physically aching to be close to him. We fought and now, I need to make up. That might just be the pregnancy hormones talking, but I don’t care. I want him.
“I want you to know I appreciate how much you care about me.” I stroke my hands from his shoulders to his chest. Then I push, walking him back towards the couch until he drops down onto the cushion. I lower onto my knees in front of him. “I want to show you how much I appreciate it.”
I unbutton his pants and slide the zipper down.
Yakov grabs my wrist. “Luna.”
“This is what we do after a fight, isn’t it?” I ask, making a show of licking my lips. “Let me make it up to you, Yakov. Please. Fuck my mouth.”
His eyes go dark. There’s a single beat of hesitation before he releases my wrist and lets me free him from his boxers. Before he can change his mind, I drag my tongue slowly along the underside of his cock.
“Fuck,” he exhales, fisting his hand in my hair.
He grows in my hand and shifts his hips to the edge of the couch. When I swallow him, the groan he releases comes from deep in his chest.
I have the power to hurt him, but it’s this power that gets me off. Knowing I can make him feel good beats everything else.
