“I can’t lie on my back for long. He presses on everything like that.”
He kisses me once, soft. “Turn over.”
I shift onto my side, and he moves in behind me, his body warm against my back. His arm wraps around me, his hand settling over the curve of my belly.
I can feel his cock behind me, and when I press back, his breath catches near my ear.
The sound sends a small smile across my face.
“Tell me if anything’s uncomfortable.”
“Do I have to keep reminding you I’m not fragile?”
“Charlotte.”
“I mean it.” I reach back, find his hip, and pull him closer. “I’m not going to break. I want to be fucked.”
He eases into me slowly, a low, rough sound leaving him against the back of my neck.
“You’re okay?”
“Yes.” I press back against him. “Fuck me. Now.”
He does with long, steady strokes. His body moves with mine, his arm firm around me, his hand spread wide over my stomach.
There’s something about this—being wrapped up in him in a way we fit together so naturally—that catches somewhere deep in my chest.
He moves, and I feel all of it—the slow pull as he draws back and the fullness as he presses in again, deep and unhurried. The rhythm he sets is steady and controlled. No rush. No urgency.
His hips roll into me in long, measured strokes.
“Mmm—”
He shifts slightly, finding that angle that makes my toes curl.
“Oh, that feels good.”
“Charlotte,” he breathes against my neck. “I’m close.”
“Come inside me.”
His arm tightens around me, his rhythm deepening. I move with him, his mouth finding my shoulder. I feel everything—his skin against mine, the baby shifting, the heat building low and then sharp.
The wave hits again—deeper this time, fuller—and he follows with a low groan against my hair that I feel through my whole body.
We go still after, his breath warm at my neck.
His hand moves in slow circles over my belly, and the baby answers with a small, deliberate push that makes him laugh.
“He knows you.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.” I cover his hand with mine. “When we were apart, I used to put you on speaker and hold it to my stomach so he could hear you.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “What’s our life going to look like after he’s here?”
I think about it—the real version.
