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He forces my thighs apart with his own before mindlessly pushing his hardness into the apex of my hips. When I shove at his chest, trying to make room between us for my belly, I’m greeted by his snarl, teeth bared, body slamming into me once again.

I respond with a firm, “Lagan!”

He freezes.

Lex’s eyes are dazed, eyelids heavy with sleep as he stares down at me. A lock of his auburn hair is caught on his lip, billowing out with every puff of breath, and he shudders when I reach up to free it. Dragging my fingertips down a heaving chest, I tuck my hand into his waistband, only needing to think for a second before easing them down his hips.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, knowing what he wants—what he needs. Lex would never allow himself to take it, because I might be more than a responsibility to him, but whateverthatis, it’s not nearly as important. “You can have it.”

When I push at my panties, working them down a leg, they’re already soaked.

“Here,” I whisper, grasping his hot, rigid length in my hand. It’s easy to guide him, to rub the swollen head of him against all my slickness and want, to strain up to taste the tense line of his mouth as he takes the cue, punching his way inside.

The cry he makes is soft, rough, and desperate.

So is mine.

After weeks of emptiness, the fullness burns, my muscles tightening against the intrusion. I dig my fingernails into his hips, stilling him with an urgent, “Lagan, stop.” And just like I always knew he would, he obeys—even though the low, animalistic whine in his throat reveals his strain.

I adjust to him slowly, reacquainting myself with his cock, the thickening and stretch. He’s propped above me, and one squirm of my neck puts his bicep right into my line of sight, the muscles rippling with restraint. Biting down on my lip, I rock up, taking every inch of him with a groan.

“God, yes,” I gasp, finally working my arms from the shirt. I use the new freedom to frame his face, looking into his glazed eyes. “Go slow, Lagan. Fuck me slow.”

His body jolts, forehead knitting up into a scowl as he drags his cock back, drilling forward once again. I can’t even think of a word for how good it feels to have him inside of me again. It’s liquid warmth, a fullness so big that it could choke me, and I rock back into it greedily, winding my legs around his strong hips.

“That’s it,” I say, watching the way his face collapses in ecstasy. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want to fill me up, give me your seed...” It feels illicit, me being the one to whisper these dark, dirty things against the warm curve of his cheek. He turns his head on his next thrust, his lips dragging clumsilyacross mine, and I give him what he wants, licking at the seam of his mouth.

It parts for me instantly.

The kiss can hardly be called a kiss. With every rock into me, his back bowing with tightly contained shoves of his hips, a growl builds in his chest. I can hear it knocking around in there, can taste the shape of it on his tongue, can smell the scent of it in his sweat. He’s a bow strung tight, his body vibrating with power, and yet…

He fucks me so gently, spearing his cock in and out, but never slamming down on me.

The tears that spring to my eyes are ridiculous, pointless things, but I’m powerless to stop them. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me,” I tell him, knitting my fingers into his silky-soft hair. “Because I’m yours, aren’t I?” I gaze up into his dead eyes, and the longer he’s silent, fucking into me like a mindless thing, a worry niggles at my chest.

Maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe I’m just using him.

Maybe I’m the one being driven by something primal and impulsive, the knot in my belly tightening with each thrust of his cock, clit throbbing for the friction of him against me.

And then a ragged, slurred sound emerges from his throat.

“Mine.”

I gasp, pulling him closer. “Show me,” I beg, fisting a hand into his hair. I make sure his eyes are locked on mine when I command, “Come for me, Lagan.” Quieter, like a dirty secret, I plead, “Put your baby in me.”

His mouth slackens the moment he hears the words, body crashing into mine with a hard, forceful punch. The sudden rush of slick heat pulsing inside sends me over the edge, and I come with him, neither of us blinking as we come together.

As we meet.

As wecreate.

It’s almost agony to feel his cock slip free, but he soothes it by collapsing on his side next to me, curling protectively around the swell of my stomach. The breadth of his hand cradles the bump, and in the next moment, his eyelids are falling closed, a satisfied sigh fluttering a lock of his hair.

As I fall back asleep, satiated and full, I realize that nothing—not a stockpile of weapons, high-tech security, or even the damage these men can do with their hands—feels as safe as I do at this moment.

Tight in Lagan’s arms.