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“On your knees for me, Miss Fallon.”
I moved into position, my knees already aching with the memory of the first time I’d done this for him. Ninety minutes of his dominance left my cunt wet and aching.
“What is it about the sight of me on my knees that gets you so hard, Father Gallagher?” I hit the G hard, purposely mispronouncing his name.
His eyes sparked with wicked delight. “Oh, Miss Fallon. I’m going to put that smart mouth of yours to good use. Open up, and when we’re done, you’ll remember exactly how to say my name.”
I pressed my thighs together, already eagerly anticipating all the ways he was going to keep that promise.
“Hands behind your back.”
I debated not doing it, just to see how he’d react, but some resilient sense of self-preservation wouldn’t let me.
“Remember, if this is too strenuous for you, use your safe word. And... when your mouth is full, because it will be, shake your head three times and I’ll stop.”
I swallowed, already anticipating the taste of him on my tongue. I wanted to be used. To know that I could push back and still be desired—still be loved—despite everything. Caleb, more than anybody else in my life, gave me the security of unconditional love. I felt safe enough with him to push every button he had, knowing in the end, he’d never stop wanting me.
My hands slid to the front of my body without my permission, resting on my thighs, and he offered me one cocked brow in response. I blinked, lowering my gaze. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“Arms up,” he ordered. “Now.”
I did as he said, and in one quick motion, my shirt was over my head and my torso was bared to him, nipples pebbling in the cool air.
“Feck, I love it when you don’t wear a bra. Those perfect tits of yours would have made me break my vows if not for your heat.”
“They’re bigger now. After...” I glanced down at my belly, afraid to say the word.
“After I filled you with a child. Aye, they are. That makes me fucking hard.”
My heart stumbled. I hadn’t realized I’d needed to hear him say that. That I needed someone, anyone, but especially one of my mates, to acknowledge the life we’d created as something other than an abomination.
“They’re sensitive too,” I whispered. “I’m pretty sure I could come just by you playing with my nipples.”
“Oh? Should we test your theory, Miss Fallon?”
“I want you to fuck my tits.”
His gaze returned to the swell of my pregnancy, then lifted to my eyes. “Logistics say that wouldn’t work, but one day, sweetling... I absolutely will.”
He held out a hand and waited for me to take his offered palm. “I thought you wanted me on my knees.”
“I did as well, but how will I suck those pert nipples if they’re so far away from my lips?”
“Good question, Father Gallagher.”
He smirked and reached down, grabbing me by the waist. My arms wrapped around his shoulders as my legs followed suit around his hips. If it weren’t for these pesky leggings, his dick would already be sheathed inside me. I was soaking wet, practically in heat for him.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you mine again.”
“Caleb,” I groaned, the sound tinged with exasperation. “I’ve been yours since the first time you got me on my knees.”
“No, darling one. You were mine long before that.”
I laughed, the sound breathless and disbelieving. I pressed my lips to the center of his tattoo. “Okay, Caleb. If you say so.”
He stopped walking, his breath hitching the second my mouth touched his skin. Then with a tenderness I’d only dreamed of since we arrived, he sat on the bed and tucked my hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead.
