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I put my palm on it. It kicks.

“Hey,” I tell it. “I’m busy.”

Hattie bursts out laughing. And then it turns into a moan, because I slide down the bed and push her thighs apart.

I take my time.

She’s swollen and soft and soaked, and when I drag my tongue through her, slow, she gasps and grabs at the sheets. She tastes richer now. Heavier. Still honey, still her, but deeper. Riper. I lick her slow and gentle, long flat strokes, then circle her clit until her thighs are trembling on either side of my head.

She doesn’t last long. She never does anymore. Her whole body’s so sensitive it only takes a few minutes before she’s coming against my mouth, crying out, her hand in my hair, her belly rising and falling.

I lick her through it. Then I kiss my way back up. Over her hip. Over the top of her belly, slow. Over her breasts. Until I’m leaning over her on my side, holding my weight off her, and she’s looking at me with her eyes all heavy and dark.

“I need you,” she whispers. “Rowan. I need you inside me.”

I help her roll on her side, facing away from me, and settle in behind her. Lift her top leg, careful, and rest it back over my hip. Her belly’s resting on a pillow in front of her. My blossoms are pressed against her back, and every time she breathes, she’s breathing them in.

I reach down and guide myself to her.

She’s so hot. So wet. I drag the head of my cock through her, slow, up through her slick and over her swollen clit, and she shudders. The softness of her, the heat, soaking right into me. I press against her entrance and just hold there. Feeling her flutter. Feeling her pull at me.

Then I push in.

She’s so tight. Swollen and soft and gripping me, every inch of her squeezing down as I sink in. I can feel her heartbeat. I can feel her through the bond, the stretch, the heat, the full, heavy ache of it, pouring right into me on top of mine until I have to stop halfway and breathe.

“Rowan,” she whimpers. “More.”

I give her more. Slow. Inch by inch, every ridge of me sliding into her, until my hips are flush against her ass and my knot’s pressed against her and I’m all the way home.

I don’t thrust. Not really. I just rock. Slow, deep, steady, barely pulling back before I’m sinking in again, holding her so close there isn’t any space between us. My hand on her belly. My mouth on her bite.

She moans every time I sink in.

“Look at you,” I growl into her bite. “Big and round with my baby, and still this fucking greedy for my cock.”

“You feel that?” I murmur against her neck. “That’s the last time I’ll have you to myself for a while.”

“Rowan…”

“Soon it’s going to be the three of us. In this bed. Somebody small kicking me in the ribs at night.” I rock into her, slow and deep, and she sobs. “So I’m going to take my time. I’m going to keep you full of me, nice and slow, until you’re dripping down both our thighs and you can’t remember your name.”

And I do.

I don’t know how long I hold her like that. Rocking into her. Kissing her bite. Feeling her through the bond, every wave of pleasure rising in her, getting bigger and bigger, until she’s shaking in my arms and saying my name over and over.

When she comes, she comes slow. It rolls through her, long and deep, and through the bond it rolls through me too, so strong I go right over with her. I push my knot into her and hold her and pour into her, both of us shaking, my hand on her belly, my mouth on her neck.

We lie there, tied together, for a long time.

Then she starts laughing.

“What?” I mumble.

She reaches up and picks something off her cheek. A little white petal.

“You’re shedding,” she says. “Baby, there are petals all over this bed.”

I look. She’s right. There are petals everywhere. On the pillows. On her shoulders. In her hair. All over the bitten bee.