Page 21 of Laced With Secrets
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take what you can, just like that. Your pretty mouth feels so fucking good on my cock.”
Before the pressure could build to completion, Dominic’s fingers threaded through my hair, easing me back. His cock slipped from my lips with an audible pop.
“Lay back in our nest,” he said.
I did as he instructed, watching as he kicked off his jeans completely before positioning himself between my spread thighs.
He rose up over me, naked and magnificent. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance. He pressed forward, and a moan escaped my throat as my head fell back into the sheets, my body yielding to his slow, deliberate entry.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
My eyes flew open, meeting his intense smoke-gray gaze as he began to push inside. The first inch made us both groan, our chests heaving in tandem with each labored breath.
“That’s it,” he murmured, sinking deeper. “Take your alpha. Let me back in where I belong.”
He filled me slowly, agonizingly, until he was fully seated and we both exhaled shakily. The connection—physical and emotional—was overwhelming.
“Fuck, Leo.” His forehead pressed against mine. “I’ve missed this.”
“Move,” I pleaded. “Please move.”
He did, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with deliberate precision. Each thrust touched something deep inside me, building pleasure with maddening slowness. His hand slid between us, fingers finding my cock and stroking in time with his movements.
I let my eyes drift closed, lost in the sensation of him claiming me, reclaiming what had always been his. Lost in the pleasure building with each perfect thrust, each stroke of his hand, each whispered praise against my skin.
Just lying there, letting my alpha take care of me, take me apart piece by piece.
His voice cut through the haze—calm, controlled, devastating.
“Were you planning to tell me about the baby before or after you went into labor?”
My eyes flew open, the question hitting me like ice water despite the heat of our joined bodies. He was still moving inside me withthose slow, deep strokes, but his gunmetal gray eyes were locked on mine with predatory intensity.
“W-what?” I gasped, unable to process his words.
“You heard me.” His hips never stopped, his free hand moving to splay possessively across my stomach where our baby was growing. “How much longer were you going to hide it?”
The world tilted. He knew. Oh god, he knew, and he’d chosen THIS moment—when I was vulnerable and open and completely at his mercy—to confront me about it.
“You—” I couldn’t form words, couldn’t think past the sensation of him filling me while simultaneously divulging the secret I’d been guarding.
He rose to his haunches and pushed my thighs apart, his fingers encircling my ankle before lifting it up and draping my leg over his muscled shoulder. He resumed his rhythm, each precise movement sending him deeper, striking that perfect spot inside me. The tension wound tighter in my core, a gathering storm of sensation that threatened to shatter me as each silken glide of his cock brought me nearer to the precipice.
“I’ve known about three weeks,” he said, his voice rough but steady even as his breathing grew labored. His hand pressed more firmly against my stomach, possessive. “Ginger tea and the morning sickness—not just bond sickness.”
Thrust.
“Your scent changed. And you wanted me near even when you were angry with me.”
Thrust.
“Touching your stomach when you thought I wasn’t looking.”
Thrust.
Tears spilled over, hot and fast. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Wanted you to trust me enough to tell me yourself.” His next thrust went deeper, hitting something that made me see stars even as my heart broke open. “But you didn’t. You kept hiding it from me.”