Page 384 of Wicked Brutal

“I know. I’ve got you. Grind on me. Use me. You’re so close I can feel it.”

She nods, wrecked, and does. Back and forth, wet and tight, her hands fisted on my chest. I keep her moving when her rhythm stutters, guiding her hips in that same sweet drag.

“Good girl. Look at you. Falling apart in our baby’s room. Coming home on my cock. That’s mine. That’s yours. Take it.”

She breaks with a high, punched-out sound.

It hits her in waves. She keeps grinding through it, shaking, and then her eyes fly open like she can’t believe it isn’t stopping.

“I can’t—Ryan—I can’t stop—it feels—too good—so good—”

“Then don’t, baby.” I keep her hips moving, slower now, still deep. “Don’t stop. Ride it. I’ve got you. Let it keep going.”

“Too much—oh my god—still—”

“I know. I know. You’re perfect. Keep coming. Come on me. I’m right here.”

She’s still fluttering around me, still grinding because I’m moving her through it, and that’s what does it. The sight of her. The sound. The way she can’t stop.

“Ally—fuck—I’m—”

I come with her.

Hard. Buried. Hands locked on her hips while she moans through the last of it and I spill into her with a broken groan, both of us shaking, both of us still moving because neither of us wants the feeling to end.

She slumps forward onto my chest, still pulsing, still breathing heavily. I wrap my arms around her and hold on, still inside her, still coming down together on the nursery floor.

We're still on the nursery floor a few minutes later. My shirt is somewhere near the crib. One of the blankets we were supposed to organize is pulled over us.

Ally is curled against my chest, tracing lazy shapes over my skin while my hand rests on her stomach.

Neither of us has said anything for a while.

Then she whispers, “This is weird.”

I look down. “Which part?”

She gestures vaguely around us. “The nursery.”

I glance at the boxes. “We should probably finish it before the baby gets here.” She pinches me. “Ow.”

“You know what I mean.” Her fingers flatten over my chest. “I don't have to leave.”

There it is.

I roll toward her. “No.” Her eyes meet mine. “You don't have to leave when we're done.”

Her lips part. I touch her face. “You don't have to sneak upstairs. You don't have to check your phone. You don't have to figure out what you're going to tell anybody.” I kiss her forehead. “You live here.”

Her eyes fill. “Ryan.”

“This is your house.” Another kiss. “Your room.” I look around the half-finished nursery. “Our baby's room.” Her hand covers mine on her stomach. “And when Tobias gets back, he's going to come barreling through that door hopped up on sugar.”

She laughs through the tears. “Probably.”

“He'll probably sleep between us.”

“Definitely.”