I turn to face him as he stands at the threshold of our bedroom, finding his jaw clenched to keep from laughing. I’m sure I’m quite the sight right now in nothing but a bra and these jeans squeezing the life out of my hips.
“What’s going on in here?”
I groan, letting my head fall back against the mattress. “I thought I could still wear my regular jeans. I thought wrong.”
Dominic leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes sweeping over me with amusement and barely contained heat. “I can see that.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t laugh at me. This is your fault, you know.”
His mouth twitches, but he plays along. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
I gesture vaguely at my belly, which is currently acting as a blockade between me and my favorite jeans. “You and your stupid face. And your stupid hands. And your?—”
He’s already moving, crossing the room in a few easy strides before he reaches the bed and crawls over to me, hovering his body over mine. He places a warm hand over mine, palm pressing against my rounded stomach.
“What was that about my hands?” He leans down, placing a kiss on my neck as his hand travels between my thighs. My hips lift on their own accord, grinding against his touch.
“I think your greedy pussy is what got us in this predicament.”
He dips his hand inside my unfastened pants and starts rubbing circular motions over my underwear, right where my clit is, forcing a needy sigh to float outof me.
I try to spread my legs wider for him, but the pants won’t allow me to move.
“Take them off,” I groan, trying to do it myself but can’t.
He chuckles, shifting to help me. “Querida mía, if you wanted me to take your clothes off, you could’ve just said so.”
I smack his arm, laughing as he finally frees me from the denim prison, taking my panties with them. He leans in, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his voice quieter now. “The girls are playing outside. Your mom is watching them for a bit before Lily’s competition starts.” He crawls back on top of me, settling some of his weight down on me enough to feel his hardened cock. “I’d say we have at least ten minutes.”
I roll my hips, seeking relief. “Then stop wasting time.”
My eyes meet his in challenge and he shakes his head, breathing out a laugh.
“If we had more time, I’d have your hands restrained behind your back for that comment. Guess I’ll have to fuck the brattiness out of you instead.”
He dips his head, sucking softly against the wild pulse in my neck.
“Please do, Sheriff Alvarez,” I moan.
His cock twitches against my thigh. He loves it when I call him that, never gets old. I scratch my nails up and down his back, lifting his T-shirt to feel more of his warm skin. He drags my bra down and captures one of my nipples in his mouth. The piercings are long gone, but that’s never stopped him from showering them with attention. It helps that I’m at the stage in pregnancy where my breasts are heavy and sensitive.
A throaty groan crawls up his throat as he tugs on my nipple with his teeth, a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.
“Fuck, your tits are so massive right now, makes me want to slip my cock between them.”
“I need your cock somewhere else.” I spread my legs for him, proving my point, and like a good husband, he immediately slips two fingers inside me.
“Nice and wet.” He curls them just how I like, languidly thrusting them in and out, spreading my arousal.
“You have too many clothes on,” I tell him between breaths.
He moves back, stepping out of his jeans and stripping off his shirt. My mouth starts to water, taking him in.
If there’s one perk to his job, it’s the shape he stays in—strong, solid, incredibly fit. My body has changed in so many ways over the years, sometimes I hardly recognize it. But Dominic has always been steady, all strength and sculpted muscle, layer upon layer. So ridiculously hot sometimes I catch myself staring, and can’t believe he’s mine.
His eyes roam over me, tracing every curve, every change—over the c-section scar, the stretch marks I try to ignore, the beach ball of a belly that’s taken over my frame. But all I see in his gaze is appreciation.
He’s loved my body in every phase of life, through every transformation, and I’ve never once doubted it. Not when I was young and unmarked, not when I carried our daughters, not now, with our son stretching me to my limits.
