Page 161 of What Comes Around

“I swear,” he murmured against my skin, voice roughened, “they’re getting bigger every day.”

I shivered, my fingers tightening slightly in his hair.

I knew I would have to take the piercings out eventually. I just wasn’t ready yet. Not when they brought me so much pleasure.

He straightened slowly, one hand sliding down to rest over the curve of my stomach. His palm spread there, protective.

He looked into my eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to mine. “Did I tell you that lately?”

“You tell me,” I said softly, brushing my fingers over his wrist where his hand rested on my stomach. “But I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it.”

Right on cue, the baby shifted under his hand.

Knox let out a quiet breath of laughter, his thumb moving instinctively over the spot. “She’s awake.”

“She’s always awake,” I muttered.

Another strong kick pressed against his hand.

“She’s going to be unstoppable,” he said, a note of pride threading through his voice. “Strong. Stubborn.”

“Like her father?” I teased.

His gaze flicked back to mine, something warmer settling in it. “Like you.”

Then he looked at me again, something deeper settling in his gaze. The earlier heat hadn’t gone anywhere. Without another word, he slid one arm behind my back and the other beneath my thighs and lifted me, effortless.

“Knox,” I laughed, my arms slipping around his neck automatically.

“I’ve got you,” he said, already turning toward the bedroom. The way he held me made it very clear he had no intention of letting me go anytime soon.

An hour later, I was very aware of exactly what that meant.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against my neck. “Give me one more.”

I was on my side, with Knox pressed close behind me, my top leg draped over his forearm. His body moved in a slow, steady rhythm, sliding in and out of me. One hand rested protectively over my swollen stomach while he pressed slow kisses along my shoulder and up to my jaw. He was determined to make me come again.

Sex with him was different now, more gentle. No chasing, no games where I ran and he took me down. Not with the baby.

I still wanted it. And I knew he did too.

I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, in the way his hands gripped just a little too hard before he forced himself to ease up again. I pushed sometimes. Tested it. I could feel how much effort it took him to be gentle. The way he held himself back when every instinct in him wanted something rougher, harder. His expression was tight, caught somewhere between pleasure and frustration, like he was on the edge of losing control, but refusing to fail.

It would have been almost funny, if it didn’t affect me so much.

His hips began to move faster, his grip tightening as he kept me in place. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation, on the slow build instead of the sharp intensity I craved.

It was still harder for me to come like this, sweet and slow, and the orgasms weren’t as intense. I still loved the fight, the force, him holding me down.

But over time, I’d learned to appreciate the slow love making… the closeness, the way he touched me like I was something fragile and precious.

Knox was healing me, piece by piece.

“Knox…” I breathed.

“Oh, yeah,” he groaned against my skin. “That’s it.”