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His hips shifted. His cock impaled her until the heated width of the crest was lodged inside the snug, rippling tissue, causing devastating pleasure.
Lyrica cried out, pleasure so sharp it was almost pain tearing through her senses as she lifted to him.
“More,” she cried out, her fingers fisting in the blankets beneath her. “Oh god, Graham, please.”
He waited. He didn’t move, the heavy throb of his cock head tormenting her as she ached, whimpered for a deeper thrust.
Staring up at him, she watched as he leaned back, his eyes locked with hers, his expression gentling.
“I love you, Lyrica,” he whispered.
Her lips parted, shock, disbelief, pure happiness filling her where before only aching emptiness had existed.
“You love me?” she whispered.
Rocking against her, he tore another gasp from her lips as he pressed deeper, taking her slowly, raking across tender nerve endings and sending her senses flying.
“I love you, Lyrica,” he groaned. “God help me. I love you.”
There was no stopping either of them then. Pushing into her to the hilt, penetrating the slick, desperate depths of her pussy, Graham groaned in rising hunger, in a need that echoed clear to her soul.
Perspiration coated their skin and pleasure whipped around them, between them, tearing at the solitary moorings that once held them grounded and binding them together, mooring them to each other.
Deep, hungry kisses, whispered promises, pledges. He took her to the edge of rapture, pulled her back, and pushed her up once again.
His lips roamed to her breasts, suckling at sensitive nipples, sending slashing waves of heat and pleasure to race from the tender buds to the clenched depths of her vagina. His hands stroked, caressed. His body moved over her, inside her, until he tucked his head at the bend of her neck and began moving with hard, desperate thrusts, each thrust pushing her closer to a brink she raced for eagerly.
“Love me, Lyrica,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, filled with all the desperate, hungry emotion that had ached inside her for so long. “Just love me.”
Ecstasy ruptured inside her, blazing in such fiery eruptions of pleasure, joy, and melting bliss that she knew she would never, could never, be the same.
“I love you,” she gasped, writhing with the extremity of the explosions racing through her, the pleasure and emotion surging free of the depths of her soul. “Oh god, Graham. I love you.”
He stilled above her, groaning her name as she felt the heat and force of his release jetting hard and deep inside her, each pulse of semen another caress, another stroke of rapture racing across her nerve endings.
Until they were left, limp, ragged, exhausted. Weeks of lack of sleep, of searching separate beds for that single heartbeat, took their toll.
Rolling from her, Graham groaned at the weariness that poured through his body. He pulled her against his chest, tucked her close to him, then his hand moved to stroke and caress her still-slender belly.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked then, his voice soft, curious.
She froze against him, almost holding her breath as he flattened his palm over their future children.
“What do you mean?”
He had to grin. He couldn’t be angry. He’d be damned if he could blame her.
“When, my love, were you going to tell me you were pregnant?”
He let her go as she pulled from him and sat up, turning to stare down at him as he watched her with such a surfeit of emotion that she felt humbled by it.
“How did you know?” she whispered, those emerald green eyes wide, surprised. “I just found out myself. I haven’t even told anyone.”
“I’ve known for a while,” he revealed, watching her face, seeing the fear that shadowed her eyes now. “Do you think I’m here because of it?” he growled. “Come on, Lyrica . . .”
“I just want to know how you knew.” She slapped back the hand that would have stroked over her thigh.
Graham grinned at the move, staring up at her, god, loving her.
