“I’ll miss seeing you pregnant and waddling into my office.”
I interlink our fingers and pull him up to meet my gaze.
“Are you sure you want to be in the room with me when she’s born?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.” His lips find my forehead, and his gray eyes take on a dreamy hue.
“You’ll still love and find my pussy beautiful?” I ask in his chest, and he tips my chin up, his other hand wrapping around me.
“Everything about you will be even more beautiful after the gift you’ll give me. And if you say my pussy one more time, I’m going to come in my pants. The next thing I crave more than holding my daughter is sliding back inside of you.”
“Kian!”
“I am being honest here, wife.” His nose brushes against mine.
I say, “We still have another nine weeks for that.”
“It’s sixty-three days actually.”
I burst into laughter, and he adds. “I have a countdown on my phone. That glorious day can’t come any sooner.”
“I must have married you for your looks.”
He raises an eyebrow, so I add, “And you have a big, big...”
His smile stretches into a mischievous grin, as I continue, “heart.”
His jaw drops in fake indignation.
I giggle and place my palms on his chest.
“That too baby, there is no reason to be coy now. Your cock is like you, anything but average.”
He smirks and says above my lips, “I love you, Mrs. Reyes. You’re my world.”
I can feel his love in every gaze, in every touch, in every breathless kiss, in every declaration. I soak it up like a sponge with infinite capacity and when I peel my eyes open, worry lines dig into his forehead.
“What is it?” I ask, immediately concerned.
“I am such an idiot. I should postpone my plan for Richard.”
He runs a hand through his hair, then shoves his hands in his pockets and props against his desk.
“I want it over with,” I say.
For him, so he can be unburdened by all the weight resting on his shoulders.
“We’re in a great place now. It’s not worth risking it for my revenge.”
“There is more.”
He turns to me, his upper body heaving.
“I am…” He gulps, and I witness his rare vulnerability. “Terrified. You’re eight months pregnant. What if my meeting with Melanie upsets you so much, I––”
I put a finger on his lips.
“Trust me, I am not that insecure woman anymore. You can’t keep someone who doesn’t want to be kept. Nor can you make anyone love you. I am not jealous of her anymore.”