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He’s plunging inside me, filling the air with the sound of our lovemaking, which is so hot I can’t believe it, and then suddenly he stops and shudders, and his hips jerk… And with a burst of pure joy I realize he’s coming inside me. Within a minute, goddamn it.
He groans, “Aaahhh…” His mouth is hot on mine, his body like rock beneath my fingers as all his muscles tense. He’s feeling what I’ve just felt, and I’ve done that for him.
I don’t know whether to be more amazed by my orgasm, or the fact that, at that moment, his life-giving fluid is spilling inside me. We could have made a baby tonight. Oh my God. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my whole life.
Chapter Thirteen
Fitz
My body finally releases me, and I gasp and bury my face in Poppy’s neck, breathing heavily. Oh, man. It felt amazing being inside her without the barrier of a condom, and made me so incredibly sensitive that it took all my willpower to make sure she came first before I gave in and let it happen.
But she did come—unless she faked it, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t. I don’t think she did, anyway. Can a man ever be one hundred percent sure?
I lift my head to look at her. To my shock, I see tears on her face.
“Hey.” I push up onto my elbows and stare at her, startled. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” I was as gentle as I could have been, although I got carried away toward the end. But I thought she was enjoying it.
She shakes her head, her bottom lip trembling, as more tears gather on her lashes and then spill over like a rowboat going over a waterfall.
“Honey…” I try to kiss them away. “I’m sorry.” Oh God. She did fake it, and now she feels guilty. Fuck. “It’s okay. It was our first try. It takes time to get to know one another. I’ll get better. Don’t worry. You might still be pregnant.” Saying it out loud gives me a funny feeling inside. I might have gotten her pregnant. Holy shit. That’s a first.
“I know,” she whispers. “That’s partly why I’m crying.”
I kiss her soft lips. “Only partly?”
“I feel so stupid.”
I frown. “What?”
“You must think I’m such an idiot. Telling you women never have an orgasm during sex.”
“You didn’t fake it?”
She gives a short laugh. “No, Marc. I didn’t fake it.”
I kiss her, feeling a flood of relief. I was convinced I’d be able to prove her wrong, but it’s nice to know for sure. “You promise?”
“I promise,” she whispers.
I kiss her wet cheeks, then back to her mouth. “Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Aw.” Carefully, I withdraw and stretch out beside her. “Here, pull your knees to your chest. It’s supposed to keep the little swimmers inside for a bit longer.”
Her big green eyes look up at me, and I feel a wash of tenderness and affection. I move up close and wrap my arms around her, pulling the duvet over us. “Come here.”
Still curled up, she cuddles me, and I kiss the top of her head. She wipes her face, then rests her cheek on my shoulder.
“I could have knocked you up,” I tell her.
That makes her laugh. “Oh Marc, you’re so romantic.”
“It’s amazing though, when you think about it. That you can create life out of an act of pleasure.” I trail my fingers up and down her spine, my eyelids drooping. Damn after-sex hormones.
“It is amazing, you’re right. Inside me, your sperm are swimming up, searching for an egg to fertilize. It sounds so scientific for an act that was born out of pure emotion.”
“Hey, there was science involved. I was quoting E=mc2 in my head while I was going down on you.”
We both start laughing, and she gets the giggles. She has a beautiful laugh—I don’t hear it anywhere near enough.
“You have a lovely chuckle,” she says, resting her hand on my chest and yawning. “It starts all the way down here. You don’t laugh enough. You’re so serious normally.”
“I was just thinking the same about you.”
“Maybe we just haven’t found the right person to laugh with.” She exhales, her breath fanning across my chest.
