Page 73 of Fight from the Heart

“Jacob,” I softly say his name, resting my hands on his covered chest. His heart races under my palm. “Let me love you.”

His head pops up. Those dull midnight orbs panic.

“Let me show you how it can be.”

His frozen position allows me to lean forward, closing in on him. He doesn’t move. Hands still braced on the back of the couch. The crackle of a partially full water bottle under his fingers. My lips brush his jaw, tracing over the short, artful stubble before lowering for his neck. He swallows, and I press a kiss to the bob of his Adam’s apple. My hands smooth over the soft material covering his chest, the heat of him seeping through it.

My hands lower to his belly, and his stomach muscles flinch. I remember asking him if he was ticklish.

“Am I hurting you?” I question, pressing kisses to his neck.

“Only because you let go of my hand.”

I pull back to look at him. I don’t recall it like that. He let go of me, but none of it matters anymore.

“I’m standing before you now.”

I tug at his shirt, and he drops the water bottle to the floor, water splashing my ankles. Once the T-shirt is over his head, I drop it and place my hands back on the warmth of his chest. His fingers come to my hips, and he tugs me forward, but I lean back, a small smile curling my lips.

“I lead,” I tease him. I still need to tell him the truth. I need him to know about my condition, but selfishly, I want this moment with him. Before I lose him again, I want him.

His hands fall back to the couch edge, and I slide mine over each of his arms. Caressing him, feeling his skin, I take my time to explore him as I haven’t before—wrists, forearms, biceps, and reverse. I kiss one side of his neck and then the other.

“You’re a good man, Jacob,” I say. “You have it in you to be loving,” I whisper to his ear before nipping him there. His shoulder presses upward, and goose bumps break out on his flesh. My lips come to his, kissing him chaste and sweet, slowly adding tongue. I’m in no rush. We aren’t racing to a finish line.

This is me, taking from him what I’ve always wanted and giving to him all of me in return.

I love this man. God help me, I love him.

My hands cover his shoulders and glide down to his palms, flattening mine against his.

“Hold my hands,” I whisper and his fingers quickly curl, entwining with mine. My mouth returns to his, kissing him tender and sweet with all the patience I can muster when I want to devour those sultry lips and climb his body. My fingers squeeze his.

“Lilac,” he mutters against my mouth.

I have a secret but he needs to know how I feel first.

Releasing his lips, I step back and tug him to follow me. He doesn’t question me but blindly moves his feet. He hesitates while willing to go where I go.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” I direct him up the stairs, taking measured steps as he’s behind me.

“This is already torture,” he teases.

“You can tell me no,” I warn, stopping on a step above him.

“I’d never say no to you, Lilac.”

With a small smile, I finish leading him to his room to the edge of his bed. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I guide him to sit and allow his hands to come to my hips. I slip off my light jacket and tug off my own T-shirt.

“Your breasts are gorgeous,” he says, leaning forward, mouth ready to take one still covered by my bra.

“I lead,” I remind him, pulling back, and he gives me a soft grin. He licks his lips, hungry for me, and a rush of warmth pools between my thighs. We’ll be getting there, but first, I return to kissing him, hands rubbing over his skin as his slip around to my backside and tug me closer to him. The kisses heat until he can’t take it. He rips his mouth from me and presses eager kisses to my chest, kissing the swell of my breast above my bra.

“You’re so huge,” he mutters into my skin. I’ve always been large breasted, but I’m swelling to accommodate the changes in me. The material of my bra grows tighter as my body adjusts to pregnancy, and it’s a reminder of what I need to tell him. You should tell him before this goes any farther. But my breasts ache for his attention, and he doesn’t disappoint.

My body overrules me.

The power shifts, and Jacob takes over. He tugs down the cup of my bra, popping my breast free of the confines. Latching onto one, he sucks hard before pulling off with a sharp pop. He examines the stiff nipple and then unhooks my bra to release both breasts. The material drops before me, and his mouth returns to the other swell, sucking at it with equal eagerness. My hands cup the sides of his head and press him off me.