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He waited until he’d wrung every last spasm from her body, then held onto her hips and lifted her onto his lap. Normally, she would have turned around to face him, but this would be more comfortable for her with the baby.
They both laughed as water sloshed out of the tub.
“This is going to be messy,” she said as he positioned the head of his rigid cock at her entrance.
“I don’t care.” He thrust into her hard and fast.
She gasped, gripping onto the edge of the bathtub while he became fully seated in her.
“Oh my god,” she said, the words coming out in a low groan.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Never better,” she said, rocking her hips to grind on him.
“Fuck,” he groaned into her wet back. “You feel so good.”
The angle was different for them, and he savored the new sensation, the way he felt balls deep inside her, as if the head of his cock was pressed up against her cervix.
He held onto her hips for leverage, pushing up and into her while she worked with him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He was already close to coming, the pressure building fast and furious at the center of his body.
He slipped his hand around to her pussy and found her clit again to make sure she came with him. He stroked it roughly while he fucked her and she gasped into the room.
“Lyon…”
“Come with me, darling.”
Their movements were fast and frenzied, the water spilling over the edge of the tub, but Lyon didn’t care. There was only her — her body and her warmth, a refuge from everything he didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to remember.
He increased the pressure on her clit and felt her tip into her orgasm, crying out as she shuddered around his cock.
It was all he needed to follow her over the edge, and he came fast and hard, his own cries sounding animalistic, grunting as he pounded into her again and again, wanting to prolong the release for them both, wanting to extend the moment when nothing existed but her.
He didn’t stop until she went limp on top of him, her head against his shoulder, damp strands of her hair falling out of the knot she’d put it in for the bath.
Then he slid his arms around her stomach, cradling her and their child, feeling like the luckiest man alive in spite of all that had happened.
Or maybe because of it.
She lifted her head and looked at the floor. “We made a mess.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t worth it?” he asked, kissing her velvety cheek.
“Never in a million years.”
“Good,” he said. “Let me get out and clean up so you don’t slip, then I’ll help you out of the tub.”
He rose from the bath, stepped onto the soggy bath mat, and looked down at her. She had her head tipped back against the tub, her eyes closed as if she were falling asleep.
There would be no more talk of feelings or trauma tonight.
And that was just the way he liked it.
28
Kira was swimming through a delicious dream. She couldn’t grasp the details, but it was warm and gentle.
She felt safe.
