Page 45

I stand in the middle of the nursery, hands on my heavily swollen belly, surveying the transformation. The walls are freshly painted in a soft, warm cream, the scent of drying paint still lingering in the air.

“Are we sure about the giraffes?” Piers asks, holding up a tiny, hand-painted wooden cutout of the long-necked creature.

“They’re adorable,” I say, shifting my weight as a dull pressure tugs at my lower back. “Besides, it’s too late to change the theme now.” I reach for the cutout, but my belly makes the simple motion feel like a workout, and Piers smirks as he hands it to me instead.

Around us, a whirlwind of movement fills the room- our extended family, the bright orphaned kids. They’re like little sparks of energy, each one with their own personality. Piers really did take on a lot when he brought them here, but they’ve become our heart and soul. And right now, they’re all buzzing around the nursery, eager to help.

“Fantasia! I finished the mobile!” Avery, barely ten and as quick as a fox, holds up the wooden mobile he’s been working on. Giraffes, elephants, and lions dangle from delicate strings, the paint slightly smudged but all the more endearing for it.

“It’s perfect, Ave,” I say warmly, ruffling his hair. “Can you hang it over the crib?”

“On it!” He scrambles onto a chair, his tongue poking out in concentration as he hooks it onto the fixture Piers installed earlier.

Near the changing table, Nadia, who refuses to let anyone call her anything but 'Nad,' organizes tiny folded clothes into drawers. “Babies have too many outfits,” she grumbles, but I catch the way she smooths each one before placing it inside.

“They go through them fast,” I say, easing myself into the rocking chair with a sigh. Valeria toddles over to me, her little hand reaching up toward mine, and I take it, helping her climb onto my lap. She snuggles close, her head resting against my chest as I adjust her in my arms.”Trust me, you’ll be glad we have extras.”

From the doorway, Callum and Theo lug in a bookshelf they insisted on building themselves. “You better love this, kid,” Theo mutters, carefully setting it against the wall. “We nearly murdered each other over the instructions.”

Callum scoffs. “You’re the one who tried to hammer in a screw.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

Piers steps beside me, sliding an arm around my shoulders. “Not bad for a bunch of street rats, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Nadia puts her hands on her hips, faux outrage on her face. “We’re refined, respectable citizens now.”

“Exactly,” I say, grinning. “And you’re making this place a home.”

As I rock Valeria gently, Theo comes over and offers her a small toy, patting her softly on the back like an older sibling would.

A warm silence settles between us all. This is more than just decorating a nursery- it’s proof that a house isn’t made of stone and wood, but of the people who fill it.

“Alright, team,” Piers claps his hands. “Mission accomplished for the day! Time to wrap it up- Fantasia and I need to put Valeria to bed.”

A chorus of voices erupts as the kids groan in unison, clearly reluctant to stop, but I smile at them, watching as they share looks of mild protest. I sit back, holding Valeria and resting a hand over my belly, feeling the reassuring kick of the life inside me, grateful that my children will grow up surrounded by love, by chaos, by the kind of family that chooses each other.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You can finish up tomorrow,” I say, softly. “Time to get some rest, you guys.”

After a few more grumbles, the kids scatter to their rooms, bidding us goodnight in their usual loud, rambunctious way. Piers gives me a small smile as he lifts Valeria from my arms, and we walk toward the nursery door and head to Valeria’s room, which is right next door.

As soon as we step inside, Valeria nestles against Piers’ shoulder, her tiny arms clinging to him sleepily. “No bed, Daddy,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.

Piers chuckles, brushing a kiss against the top of her head. “Oh, really? Then what’s our plan, little troublemaker?”

She lifts her head, blinking up at him. “More play?” she asks hopefully.

I laugh, smoothing a hand over her curls. “Not tonight, sweet girl. You’re sleepy.”

“Not sleepy,” she insists, though her voice is already growing drowsy.

We settle her into her new bed, and I tuck her blanket around her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She yawns, her tiny fingers curling around my hand. “Mummy, song?”

“Of course, love,” I murmur. Piers and I exchange a glance before we both begin singing softly, our voices blending in the quiet hush of the room.

“Of course, love.” My whisper melts into the quiet as Piers’s fingers weave through mine. Our voices rise together- frayed at the edges from exhaustion but still harmonizing perfectly- until Valeria’s lashes kiss her cheeks long before the last note fades.

Piers lingers, his thumb tracing the downy curve of her ear. “She’s so loved,” he says, more breath than sound.

I curve into his side, our shared warmth a silent vow. “And this next one will drown in it.”

He presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering there. “Come on, let’s get some sleep,” he murmurs. But the heat in his gaze tells me sleep isn’t the first thing on his mind.

I lace my fingers through his, a knowing smile playing on my lips. “Mm, I believe we have a little more to do before that.”

Piers’s fingers tighten around mine as he leads me out of Valeria’s room, closing the door behind us with a quiet click. The house is finally still, the warmth of family lingering in the air, but the only thing I’m aware of now is him- the electric press of his palm against mine, the barely-leashed tension in his frame, the way his pulse thrums where our wrists meet.

The second our bedroom door shuts, he’s on me. Strong hands gripping my hips, backing me into the wall with a controlled yet gentle force that sends a shiver straight to my core. My breath catches as my back meets the cool surface, the contrast against the heat of his body making me burn.

His lips brush my ear, his voice a low, possessive growl. “You’ve been driving me mad all day.”

A delicious heat pools low in my belly as I press my hands against his chest, feeling the steady pound of his heart beneath my fingertips. “Have I?” I whisper, tilting my head as his mouth drags down my throat, open-mouthed kisses setting fire to my skin. “Even like this?” I tease.

His hands slide under my shirt, fingers splaying wide as they roam over my pregnant belly, my ribs, moving higher to my swollen breasts until my breath stutters. “Especially like this,” he growls, squeezing my tits and biting down at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue.

I arch into him, a silent plea he answers without hesitation. His fingers work my blouse buttons with practiced ease, then skate around to my back—one precise flick, and my bra surrenders. Cool air kisses my bare skin as the fabric slips away, and his sharp inhale is the only warning before his mouth crashes against my collarbone. “Christ, you're perfect,” he grits out, the words vibrating against my throat as his palms map every newly exposed curve.

Without wasting a second, he leans down, his mouth finding my nipple, and I gasp as his hot breath ghosts over it. He teases it for a moment, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud before he takes it fully into his mouth. A wave of heat washes over me, and I instinctively extend my breasts toward him, my head tilting back in surrender as I tug at his shirt, needing him closer.

His lips linger for a moment longer, savoring the taste of me, before he finally pulls away just enough to breathe against my skin. The shift in pressure leaves me wanting more, but before I can voice it, his lips find mine again, deep and hungry. His hands slide down to my waist, and his voice breaks the heated silence. “You know,” he murmurs, his words thick with desire, “I never thought I’d have a fetish for a pregnant woman.”

I let out a surprised laugh, my hand instinctively resting on my belly as his lips trail down my neck. “Well, I never thought I’d be this horny while pregnant,” I say, my breath catching as he nips at the sensitive skin beneath my ear. My hips shift slightly, the ache between my legs undeniable. “It’s only been a few days, but I need you... again.”

He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me, and his hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer. “So, what do we do this time, love? Same as last time?” His mouth finds mine again, but it’s a quick kiss, teasing, before he pulls back just enough to look at me, that devilish grin spreading across his face. “Doggy style again?”

“Fuck yeah,” I reply, the heat in my voice unmistakable.

Without a word, I turn around, pressing my back to his chest, my hips swaying as I rub against him. His arousal is instant, and a satisfied grin spreads across my face. “I want you now,” I breathe, the need in me almost desperate.

His hands move quickly, sliding my pants and panties off with practiced ease, his body pressing firmly against mine. I grip the back of his neck, steadying myself as I feel the heat of him behind me.

“God, you're beautiful,” Piers whispers, his voice strained with desire as his hands glide over my body, cupping my breasts. I gasp, my head falling back onto his shoulder.

I moan softly, “I want your cock inside me.” Turning just enough, I catch his lips in a fierce kiss, our mouths clashing in pure hunger. His fingers tighten on my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips demand more.

His hands trail down my body, leaving a fire in their wake, until they settle on my hips, steadying me as I brace myself against the wall. His body presses against mine, gyrating his hard cock between my cheeks, and I feel the weight of him pushing me closer to the edge.

Piers groans, his breath hot against my skin as he enters me, slow at first, checking for my comfort. But the urgency builds, and I push back, feeling every inch of him, every hard thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

“Fuck, Fantasia,” Piers gasps, his hands holding me steady against the wall as he moves faster, deeper.

I can feel the pressure building inside me, my breath coming faster as the walls of the room seem to spin around us, but nothing matters except him- nothing but the way he’s making me feel, the way he’s holding me and taking me as if we’re the only two people left in the world.

“God, Piers...” I breathe, my voice trembling. “I’m... close.”

He kisses the back of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he speeds up, his hands gripping me tighter. “I know, love,” he groans. “So am I.”

And with one final deep thrust, everything shatters inside me, and I let out a sound of pure pleasure as waves of ecstasy rush through me. Piers follows quickly, his own release crashing into me, his grip on my hips tightening as he finishes.

We both stand there for a moment, gasping for breath, the room still spinning as we catch our bearings.

“Fuck,” I murmur, my chest heaving with the aftermath of it all.

Piers presses his forehead to my back, his breath coming in hot bursts. “I’ll never get enough of you, you know that?”

I smile softly, turning around in his arms, still a little dizzy from the intensity of it all. “Good,” I reply with a smirk, “because I’m not done with you yet.”

His grip on me tightens, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he shifts, carrying me toward the bed.

“Careful what you wish for, love.”

And then he makes sure I come undone all over again.