Page 105 of Accidental Groom

I shake my head, pulling back just enough to look in his half-lidded eyes. “I’m yours,” I murmur. “Just yours. No one else.”

A shudder runs through him. He blinks, slowly, before his hands slip beneath my sweater, his palms hot against my skin. He pushes the fabric up and over my head, tossing it aside, the cool air hitting my skin. But I’mburninginside.

His fingers find the clasp at the back of my sports bra, fumbling for all of a second before it gives way. The fabric loosens, and he pulls it down my arms with a reverence that makes my skin prickle.

“Are they still sore?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just beneath my breasts.

“A-A bit.”

“Okay,” he murmurs.

Instead of touching them, he leans in, peppering a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, my shoulders, the slope of my neck. It’s a deliberate, tender choice that makes my throat close. He’s taking care of me.

But I’m desperate to feel him.

I claw at the hem of his sweater. “Off,” I rasp. “Please.”

He helps me, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, his shirt following right after. The sight of him, all hard planes and taut muscle, the dusting of silver hair across his chest — it sends a fresh wave of want crashing through me.

His mouth meets mine again, headier, needier, as his hands lower, fingers hooking in the waistline of my leggings. He pulls, getting them halfway down my thighs along with my underwear, before both of us realize that I’m going to have tomoveif I want them off.

I shuffle back a little, kneeling, leaning onto one leg.

It’s a struggle. My balance is shit. My stomach is huge. I grip onto his shoulder for stability before abandoning the idea altogether under his amused gaze, pushing back off him and just standing.

A chuckle oozes out of him, warm and rich. “Having trouble, darling?”

I glare at him. “Shut up,” I grumble, kicking them off my feet. “You try being a human incubator and then we’ll talk aboutyourflexibility.”

He snorts, then welcomes me back into his lap with open arms, his hands splaying across my bare skin. “No, thank you,” he grins, looking up at me. “But I’m forever thankful that you’re putting up with it for both of us.”

I roll my eyes.

He rollsusin answer.

The world spins, and then my back is against the sheets, the ceiling above me, and I have to blink to register that everything’s flipped. He hovers over me, between my thighs, caging me in.

His mouth meets my skin as he kisses a searing path down my neck. He shifts, kicking his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency now, his hands sliding down my thighs to lift them just enough to touch my belly. The hard, hot length of him restsagainst my lips, and my breath stutters, a broken little noise leaping from my throat.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

I don’t have time to say it back.

He buries himself in me in one clean thrust, filling me so completely it feels like my body is about to split in two. “Fuck?—”

My back arches, my breathing shaky, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Attagirl,” he grins, his voice strained as he begins to move. His mouth collides with mine again, his hips impatient, his pace nearly relentless from the start. It’severything, and it’s too much, leaving me barely able to keep up with my mouth with my head spinning this badly.

His hand cups my cheek as he pulls back just enough to stare down at me, his eyes dark, his breathing ragged.

“Mine,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing my cheekbone with a reverence that rivals what his hips are doing to me. “Every inch of you. Mine. And mine alone.”

I nod frantically and grab for his shoulders, pulling him back down, my hands slipping into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. But the longer it goes, the more the angle starts to become awkward, my stomach growing uncomfortable and my mind turning to worry.

“Wait—” I gasp, my hands moving down to his ribs, pausing him. “The… the bump?—”

His body stills entirely, concern flashing immediately in his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”