Page 147 of Sweet Deception

“Oh,” he chuckled. “What do we need to do to keep you comfortable?”

“It’s more about what I want you to do.”

“Tell me.”

“It hasn’t hit me yet since it’s early, but when it does, I just need you around.”

“I’ll be here whenever you need me, even if it means dropping everything for nine months. It’s worth it. We’re creating a life.”

I flushed, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re annoying and sweet at the same time.”

“So are you.”

“That’s marriage, I guess. Not always a bed of roses.”

“And when it’s not,” he said, “it’s unfair for the wife to abandon the matrimonial bed. If I hadn’t swallowed my pride and come here, this rift could’ve dragged on for weeks, both of us miserable.”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I won’t do it again.”

“What if it’s a girl?” I asked.

“So what if it’s a girl or a boy? I don’t care.”

Relief washed over me. I’d feared he’d only want a son, but his indifference to gender lifted a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.

My hand drifted to his waistband, brushing against him. His arousal stirred beneath my touch. I slipped my hand inside, gripping him as he swelled, too thick for my fingers to fully encircle.

“Just to be sure,” He teased, “we can still fuck during pregnancy, right?”

“You really know nothing about this, do you?”

“It’s my first time,” he admitted. “I haven’t Googled it yet, but I will so I stop asking dumb questions.”

“For now, we can make love as much as we want. When my belly grows, we might still be able to, but you’ll need to be gentle.”

“I’ll be as gentle as you need, babe.”

In one fluid motion, he rolled me onto my back, his lips crashing into mine. The kiss was fire, raw and desperate, a collision of anger and longing. but it wasn’t just about lust. There was something more, something we were both too afraid to name.

I tugged his shirt off, revealing the hard planes of his chest, and he shed his trousers in a swift, practiced move. His hands found the hem of my nightwear, peeling it open, then slid my panties down my thighs. His fingers, two of them eased inside me, stretching me with a slight sting that melted into pleasure. I gasped, my walls yielding to him as he thrust slowly, his mouth devouring mine with a hunger that mirrored my own.

Our enemies-to-lovers dance had always been a battlefield, but this, this was surrender.

His fingers worked me open, coaxing moans from my throat, until he withdrew them, leaving me aching. Then he was there, his length pressing into me, gentle at first, our eyes locked in a rare, unguarded moment. I shrank beneath him, overwhelmed by the intimacy. His hand slid to my throat, not choking, just holding, grounding me, as he began to move harder, deeper.

“Fuck, Gleb...” I moaned, shameless, lost in him.

He was long, thick, filling me until I felt him in my core. Tears pricked my eyes, not from pain, but from the intensity of it all.

“Babe...” He paused.

I laughed through the tears, clutching his hips. “I just love how you make me feel. Don’t stop.”

He grinned, resuming with a rhythm that drove me wild. Then he flipped me over, bending me onto my knees. From behind, he thrust again, relentless, his hand alternating between gripping my hair and my neck, slapping my ass with a sting that heightened every sensation. I was unraveling, spiraling into madness as he pounded into me, growling as he came, his release flooding me.

“Fuck,” he rasped, collapsing onto me. His lips brushed the nape of my neck, tickling me until I squirmed. He chuckled, trailing kisses down my spine, over the curve of my ass, worshipping every inch.

I blushed, my face buried in the pillow. He turned me onto my back, cupping my breast, squeezing gently before kissing each nipple. I giggled, intoxicated by his touch. Our lips met again, fierce and hungry,