Page 163 of Sienna Rossi: Beyond Shattered Trust

Morning sunlight spills through the curtains when I wake again, casting a warm glow across the room. For a moment, I just lay there looking at Sienna curled against my chest, her hair a complete mess across the pillow, her hand resting over my stomach like even in sleep she needs to touch me.

The sun had begun to rise when we had finally showered and headed to bed. She had pulled on her panties before she had snuggled against me, falling asleep instantly.

A strange calm settles over me as I look at her.

She’s mine.

The thought still doesn’t feel fully real, but fuck does it do something to me every single time it crosses my mind.

My hand slides down her back slowly before resting lightly over her stomach beneath the sheets.

She stirs softly when I carefully move out from beneath her, her brows knitting together faintly before she buries her face deeper into the pillow. I smirk slightly at how adorable she looks half asleep with only a pair of panties on. Then again, I’m only wearing a pair of boxers.

I should go start on breakfast – make it lunch; it’s past eleven.

I leave the room quietly and head downstairs. Sunlight stretches across the kitchen as I open the fridge, trying to figure out what the fuck pregnant women actually eat.

Fruit? Toast? Something healthy?

My eyes narrow at the fridge. I have no fucking clue.

I end up grabbing a bit of everything, deciding she can choose what she wants to eat herself. I may not be as much of a pro as she is, but I can cook some basic stuff.

I’m halfway through making pancakes when I feel arms wrap around my waist from behind.

Warm lips brush lazily against my back, sending a current of pleasure through me.

“You disappeared,” Sienna murmurs. “Although watching you cook naked is so hot.”

I smirk, placing my hand over hers for a moment. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I am,” she answers.

I turn slightly in her arms until she’s standing in front of me properly and…

Fuck.

My shirt hangs off one of her shoulders, barely covering her thighs; her hair is unruly and looks fucking sexy, and her lips are swollen pink from kissing.

My cock instantly hardens.

Her sleepy eyes flick up to mine, and a tiny smirk tugs at her mouth like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Good morning,” she whispers innocently.

I grip her waist and pull her flush against me. “You look like that and then act innocent?”

She smiles softly, sliding her hands up my chest. “You’re the one making me breakfast in only a pair of boxers. That’s suspiciously attractive behaviour.”

I chuckle before I lean down, kissing her slowly.

“How are you feeling?” I ask quietly when I step back.

Some of the teasing leaves her expression.

“Tired,” she admits softly. “But better. Just thinking about the dome.”

I brush my thumb beneath her eye gently before nodding once. “We’ll go to Russia.”