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“You have an on-site doctor?”
Emi rolls her eyes. “Of course I do. Especially after you suggested I have issues with food.” She looks at me with raised eyebrows as though chastising me, but then her lips tip up into the most beautiful smile that causes the air to be stolen from my lungs.
“The doctor took the bullet out and treated the wound. You should be fine soon enough.”
She talks as though I wasn’t just shot by a madman, as though I hadn’t nearly died from blood loss.
But when she flinches, any thought of the pain in my shoulder is replaced with concern for her. “What’s wrong?”
Her hand moves below the sheet. “Nothing, the baby kicked. Little bump is always active first thing in the morning, it makes me need to pee,” she grumbles as she throws the sheet off herself and climbs out of bed. The flimsy camisole top and lacy thong make my cock stand to attention, but it’s her bump that gets me really hard.I put that there.A feeling of possession takes over me. No matter what, I’ll always share this connection with Emi, and I sure as hell never want it to leave. I want all of her. To possess her like she possesses me. The toilet flushes, and the tap switches on and off, then the bathroom door opens and her eyes find mine. She stands still in the doorway as though unsure of what to do next.
I take control of that situation too. “Come here, Red. Let me wish you and our little one good morning.” I tilt my head toward the bed, so she clambers on, looking so small and lost on top of the huge bed that it makes me chuckle.
She chews on her bottom lip and her cheeks pinken, and the part of myself that loves her innocence wishes I could keep her like this forever. But the bigger part of me—the part that craves her—wants to corrupt her and mold her into everything I never knew I wanted.
“Show me my baby, Emi.”
She swallows and her neck flushes as she lifts the bottom of her camisole, exposing her neat, round little bump. My heart skips a beat at the beauty of it, our baby growing inside there. Something I never contemplated having, but since the moment I found out about the baby, I’ve been all in. The fact that the mother of my child is Emi is a bonus on top of a beautiful gift.
I bend forward, ignoring the sting of pain when I lower my head but keep eye contact with my girl as I place a gentle kiss on the swell of her stomach.
My balls tighten, reminding me of the overwhelming need to come. Another kiss leaves my lips as I caress her bump, and when I feel movement beneath my hand, my eyes widen in shock. “Hey, little one, can you hear me in there?” I whisper against her stomach. The ripple against my palm makes me emotional at how utterly amazing Emi’s body is for carrying our little one.
I pull away slightly but leave my palm on her stomach, and instead, I rest my head on her lap. Emi’s fingers find my hair and, in a soothing way I’ve never felt before, her fingers work through my strands almost lovingly.
All the tension and stress fades away with my wife and baby by my side. The comfort it brings is like a blanket of security I never want to leave.
“I want you to do this every day.” My voice has a guttural edge to it. “I want you to show me the baby every day and let me be a part of this.”
Emi’s fingers tighten in my hair. “I want that too.” Her voice is clogged with emotion, and I want nothing more than to take away any unease she feels, so I sit up and take her chin in the palm of my hand.
“Tell me what you need, Emi.” I expect her to tell me she needs me by her side, or she needs me to find peace with her brother.
“I need you to kiss me,” she pants out the words as my eyes search hers, full of vulnerability, which I hate. She needs to be reassured and confident in our relationship, no matter how forced upon us it may be.
My lips find hers tenderly. I push my tongue through her parted lips, groaning when her tongue mixes with mine. My fingers tangle in her hair as I hold her in place with one hand and my other palm resting on our baby. Our kiss deepens, our tongues becoming thirstier for one another, thrashing about in search of the same crazy high. My cock twitches hungrily but this kiss is every . . . fucking . . . thing and far more important.
She whimpers against me, the sensation so consuming it’s like no other kisses ever existed. Like this one kiss is everything. I pull back, panting, to stare into her darkened orbs. Our chests heave in sync.
I stroke my thumb over her swollen lip.
A thought occurs to me, causing my heart to soar and my cock to swell. “Was I your first kiss, Emi?”
She pulls back and her eyes search my face.
She shakes her head, and I narrow my eyes in confusion. “N-n-n-no.”
It’s like a dagger to my heart. She might as well have shot me with her brother’s fucking gun; she couldn’t have hurt me any more than she has right now.
The hurt is soon replaced with anger. I drop my hand from her stomach and tug off the sheets with a grunt.
“Sh-Shaw? Are you okay?”
I spin on my heel and glare at her.Is she fucking serious?Of course I’m not okay. I shake away the hurt on her face and tug on the clothes left out on the armchair: a loose t-shirt and joggers. Then I swing open the walk-in closet doors and find all my belongings inside.
Anger boils inside me.When the hell did these arrive? And who the hell packed them up and put them here in the first place? How did they get access to my apartment?
“Where the fuck did my clothes come from, Emi?” I bark back toward the bedroom as I move around the room to find my sneakers.
