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My hands find the hem of her shirt—my shirt—and tug gently. She helps me ease it over her head, revealing the body I’ve been dreaming about for weeks.

She’s more beautiful than ever, her breasts slightly fuller, her skin glowing with that ethereal quality that comes with pregnancy.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” I breathe, my gaze tracing every inch she’s revealed.

Color blooms across her cheeks, but she doesn’t shy away. Instead, she reaches for the drawstring of my pajama pants, her fingers working the knot with careful precision.

“Your turn,” she whispers, and I lift my hips to help her slide the fabric down my legs.

The cool air hits my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat in Aria’s eyes as she takes me in.

I’m harder than I should be, given the beating my body’s taken—but she walks in, and it’s like my body forgets. Like she rewires the rules. Just her presence, and I’m already undone.

She straddles me slowly, deliberately—one knee, then the other, caging me in with her body. She hovers, careful not to press against my chest, but I feel her everywhere. She’s above me now, and fuck, the view—the hunger in her eyes, the faint curve of her belly rising with every ragged breath, those beautifully swelling breasts. She’s trembling with need, and it’s all for me.

“Let me,” she whispers, catching my hand as I reach for her. “Let me take care of you.”

I nod, sinking into the pillows, offering myself up to her without resistance. She’s earned this moment—after all the nights she’s stayed by my side, watching over me, worrying, holding me together when I couldn’t. If anyone deserves to take control, it’s her.

Her hands begin a slow, reverent journey—gliding over my shoulders, down my arms, across my chest. She leaves trails offire everywhere. She reawakens nerves, gets my blood boiling, my heart racing.

In her hands, I don’t just feel alive—I feel worshipped.

And the sight of her.God, the sight.Her beautiful hair, falling down her shoulders, covering her breasts. A goddess. That’s what she is in this moment.

“I missed this,” she murmurs, leaning down to press soft kisses along my collarbone. “I missed touching you without worrying I might hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,dolcezza. Not like this.”

She lifts her head to meet my eyes. “Only like this?”

“Oh, darling,” I confirm, my hands coming up to cup her face. “Never again like that.”

The unspoken understanding between us sparks like a live wire. Then her lips are on mine again—deeper, hungrier—her body pressing in close, careful but desperate, like she’s fighting the same storm I am. She moans into my mouth, and I reach for her waist, digging marks into her soft skin. She begins to grind against me, and I feel her hand reach between us, pull down those shorts she has on, her panties following next.

And when she sits back down on me, god, I feel her soaked against my cock. I throb, I writhe, I need.

“Aria,” I breathe, my hands gripping her thighs.

“I know,” she whispers against my mouth. “I know, love.”

She guides herself to hover over my cock, pausing for just a moment to pull back and meet my eyes. The anticipation is enough to bring me to the edge in that suspended instant.

I glide my hands up her thighs, cradle her ass in my palms, try to pull her down, to tell her what I want.

But I don’t push. This is all her.

Then she sinks onto me. Slow. Torturous. Like she wants to feel every inch of the journey to bliss.

I slide into her heat, and the sensation hits like a detonation—tight, wet, silk over steel. Her body takes me inch by inch, stretching to fit, and I feel her tremble around me, a gasp escaping her lips as her head tips back, her inner walls fluttering around me in ways that make my vision blur.

“Dio,” I breathe, my head falling back against the pillows. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

She begins to move, and my breath stutters at how she moves. Lethal. Graceful. She worships and ruins me with her pussy, all at once.

Her thighs flex on either side of me, strong and soft, and I watch her body ride mine, hips rolling in slow, deliberate waves that make my breath hitch. Her breasts bounce with every motion, flushed and perfect, her stomach tensing as she builds a rhythm around the ache we’ve both been carrying.

She braces herself on my shoulders, careful of my chest, and rides me harder, her body moving in a way that I never want to forget.