Page 210 of Say My Name

“I’ve wanted you since before this child existed,” he says, lowering his mouth to my ear. “Now I know you’re carrying the life we made, and I spend half my day trying to keep my hands off you.”

My breath catches.

He cups my stomach, spreading his palm over the place where nothing shows yet. His thumb moves over my skin.

“I love every piece of evidence,” he continues. “Your softer stomach. Your fuller breasts. The vitamins beside my coffee. Your books on my nightstand. I love knowing your body is changing because we made something together.”

His other hand settles on my hip.

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll take care of you. If you’re tired, I’ll hold you. When you want me, Elena, I’m going to make damn sure you never mistake my restraint for a lack of desire.”

His promises are specific, bounded. He doesn’t dismiss my fear; he offers a plan to disarm it. The last line isn’t a promise at all. It’s a challenge.

I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Show me.”

The words stop him.

“What?”

“You said you want every change.” I place my hand over his on my stomach. “Show me how you see me.”

His jaw tightens.

“Stay right there.”

He unties the towel and lets it fall.

The thick length of his cock presses against me, hot and hard. My body responds instantly, heat gathering between my thighs.

Dominic slides both hands to my waist. “Look at yourself.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re watching me.” His mouth brushes the shell of my ear. “Look at the woman I see.”

My gaze moves reluctantly to my own reflection, half-afraid I’ll see only the flaws, the changes, the body I no longer recognize.

His hands follow it. One palm spreads low over my stomach while the other cradles my breast with enough care to test the tenderness before adding pressure.

I arch into him.

“Too much?”

“No.”

His thumb circles my nipple. “Tell me if that changes.”

The sensitive peak tightens beneath his touch. He watches my face as he rolls it between his fingers, then moves to the other breast with the same patient attention.

“Look at you,” he says. “You have no idea how beautiful you are carrying our baby.”

I want to believe him so badly that the uncertainty turns hot.

“My stomach doesn’t look pregnant yet.”

“I know what’s there.” He kisses my shoulder. “I know what your body is doing every second I look at you.”

His hand glides from my stomach to the crease of my thigh.