Page 152 of Cruel Demands

She watches me expose my chest. The scrutiny unsettles me. Taylor has seen me naked. She has touched every part of me. Still, tonight I feel examined in a way I have not before. Not as a man she desires. As a man she may allow near her child.

I remove the shirt and set it aside. Her gaze drops. Heat stirs through me, immediate and unwelcome in its intensity. “You are still angry,” I say.

“Yes.”

“And you want me.”

“Yes.”

I consider that.

She gives me an impatient look. “I can do both.”

“I am aware.”

“Then stop looking like you’re trying to solve me.”

“I am trying not to make this worse.”

“Sex is usually your solution.”

“It has been effective,” I say, leaning over her.

She rolls her eyes, but her mouth curves and she leans back, her mouth opening and her tongue touching mine.

I move my mouth to her jaw. Her head tilts. I kiss the line of her throat, breathing in the scent of her skin. She smells the same as always, yet knowing she is carrying our child makes every part of her seem altered.

Sacred is not a word I use. It belongs to churches, icons, things men kneel before. My hand glides beneath the hem of her sleep shirt. I help her remove it, and then she lies beneath me in only her underwear, her skin warm against the sheets. “Stop staring at me like I’m an artifact.”

“I do not want to hurt you. You are carrying my heir.”

She groans. “Do not call the baby your heir while we’re having sex.”

“I was not aware there were rules.”

“There are now.”

“What else?” I lower my mouth to her breast. I take her nipple into my mouth.

She gasps. “Don’t treat me like I’m…” She closes her fingers in my hair. “Breakable.”

I draw slowly with my lips until her back arches. The reaction sends a pulse of satisfaction through me so sharp it is almost cruel. This, at least, I understand. Her pleasure.

I move to the other breast, cupping her carefully. She becomes more sensitive beneath my mouth, her breathing uneven, her thighs shifting restlessly. I kiss her. She kisses me back harder. “You’re still being careful,” she murmurs against my mouth.

“I am attempting not to ruin the progress I have made in the last ten minutes.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is.”

She laughs softly, and the sound loosens something inside me. I touch her slowly, paying attention to every change in her breathing, every place she leans into me instead of away. She is more sensitive than before. I am certain of it.

“Mikhail.”

“Yes?”

“Touch me.”