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I peek in the door and I think he’s sleeping until he calls to me.
“Sweetheart?”
My heart sinks.Sweetheart. Not Kenna.
My heartrate speeds up as I walk into the room.
“Close the door,” he orders, and he sounds a bit more sober, so I do, walking toward the bed. Derek turns on the lamp, squinting at me.
“The kids asleep?” he asks, his voice hoarse from sleep and alcohol.
I nod slowly. “They went down okay. Maggie had trouble sleeping, so I laid down with her a bit.”
Derek looks up at me. “I meant what I said, you know?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, biting my lip.
He leans up and reaches out to me, tugging me into bed and subsequently, into his lap, nuzzling against my neck from behind.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“What does thatmean,Derek?” I ask, sighing but leaning against him. I can’t ever seem to tell him no, no matter what happens.
“You know what it means,” he says simply, pushing my hair back from my throat and kissing me there, making me moan in the back of my throat.
It’s been a while since he’s touched me like this, and I can’t deny that I like it, that I crave it.
“I want to be the only man who ever touches you,” he says, reaching around to shove his hand down my shorts, pressing his fingers against my clit.
I gasp and rock back against him, feeling him hard against my ass.
“You are,” I say.
“Not for long,” he mutters miserably, and kisses my throat again, sucking there to make a mark.
“Derek,” I whimper, not sure what I’m asking for, but he pushes his fingers deeper, hooking two inside me so that I breathe out his name again.
“Don’t go,” he says again, a whisper against my throat, and I don’t know how to answer him. I don’t know how to tell him I have to go, because he doesn’t want me and I’m growing his baby in my stomach as we speak and I don’t want that to be the reason that makes him ask me to be with him or the reason that finally pulls him away for good.
I don’t know how to tell him that I’ve been in love with him for months and I want to be part of his family. I’m terrified that he’ll reject me again, so I don’t say anything, just let him touch me, one hand kneading my breasts, the other cupped against my sex.
He rocks his hips against me in a low groan and then removes his fingers, flipping me over onto the bed. He tugs down my shorts impatiently and he’s removed his shirt at some point in the night so I spread my hands across his broad chest.
Derek growls in the back of his throat, shoving down his sweats to press into me, slowly at first and then rolling his hips in a steady pace that makes my breath hitch in my chest.
With each thrust, his pelvic bone hits my clitoris, and I’m arching my back and crying out when he starts to move faster.
“All mine,” he murmurs, and my eyes snap open, looking into his lust-filled green ones. “You’re all mine, sweetheart.”
“Am I?” I ask, and he nods, biting his lip and focusing at where he’s pumping in and out of me. I tremble all over when I come, digging my nails into his shoulders and he groans as I clench around him, his thrusts getting sloppy.
“Fuck, wanted this to last longer,” he mourns, but it’s only a few more strokes before he’s spilling inside me, his seed dripping down my thighs. I expect him to go cold now, shut down like he’s done so many times before, but after he pulls out, when I try to get out of bed, he grabs my hip bone tight in one hand. “Stay,” he commands, and I don’t know if he means just for now or if he means forever, but I can’t say no.
I’ve never been able to say no to Derek Ledderman. I wiggle back against him and he puts both arms around me, pulling me close and pressing his face against the back of my neck.
“It makes me crazy to think of you with someone else,” he admits.
“You’re territorial,” I accuse.
