Her eyes drag over me.
Slow.
Intent.
“It’s hard not to want to ravish you,” she admits.
“You want to ravish me?” I ask, my voice dropping.
Her expression softens slightly, like she’s almost surprised by herself.
“I don’t know what it is,” she says. “It’s like… one minute I feel fine, the next I feel nauseous, and then—”
She exhales.
“I just…wantyou.”
My hand tightens slightly at her jaw, my thumb brushing her lower lip.
“Pregnancy hormones,” I murmur.
She lets out a small, breathless laugh.
“I think so.”
I study her for a second longer. The way she’s looking at me. The way her body is already leaning into mine. The way she’s asking, without fully saying it.
“Do you need some relief, baby?” I ask quietly.
Her breath stutters.
“Maybe.”
That’s all it takes. My gaze flicks briefly behind us. The path. The distance. The shadows. No one close enough. No one paying attention.
I guide her gently off the path, my hand sliding from hers to her waist, pressing her back lightly against the trunk of a tree, the rough bark contrasting sharply with the smooth silk of her dress.
She inhales sharply.
I step in close.
Close enough that there’s no space left between us.
My hand comes up again, this time settling at the side of her throat, not tight, just there, grounding, holding her attention as I tilt her head back slightly.
“You want me to take care of you out here?” I murmur, my voice low, steady, controlled.
Her answer isn’t words.
It’s the way her body arches into mine. The way her fingers curl into my jacket. The way her lips part.
“Yes.”
My control slips just a fraction.
I kiss her again. Deeper this time. Slower.
Letting the heat build instead of taking it all at once, letting her feel it, letting her lean into it, letting her need it.
