Page 118 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
But Aria didn't move away.
Instead, she pushed him back before she rose above him, straddling his hips, her eyes never leaving his.
"I want it now," she whispered.
His hands instinctively caught her hips, but she was already moving, guiding him in, her breath catching as she sank onto him slowly, deliberately. He let out a strangled groan, his head falling back.
"Oh God, Aria... You feel-Jesus, you feel so good. So wet. So perfect."
Her hands braced on his chest as she began to move, slow and deep, every roll of her hips made with quiet determination, chasing her pleasure, claiming him in her own time. Crispin's hands roamed her thighs, her waist, her belly, worshipping her in motion.
He tried to hold on but couldn't.
Neither could she.
Their climax came in pulses crashing, breathless, their hearts racing together in perfect, tangled sync.
When it passed, they stayed there for a beat longer, before he supported her body to lie sideways, still connected. They lay, belly to belly, skin to skin.
Then they laughed, soft and awed.
"Wow," he said against her collarbone.
She smiled. "Yeah. Wow."
After a few quiet breaths, he slipped away from her and padded to the bathroom before returning with a warm, damp washcloth. He knelt between her legs and cleaned her with gentle, practiced hands.
"We made a mess," she murmured.
"I don't care," he replied, kissing the inside of her knee. "I just want to lie here and bask."
He returned moments later with a clean quilt, tossed it over the damp spot, then settled in beside her, pulling her into his chest, one leg between hers, content.
They lay there in the glow of the moment, a little wrecked, a little dazzled, and completely happy.
Epilogue 1
Full Circle
The two weeks leading up to Aria's birthday passed like a breeze. There was a growing air of anticipation around the house. The baby's somersaults and hiccups kept her restless as night, and she often woke Crispin to rub her aching back or just to keep her company. Just the fact that she could wake him with a demand for a backrub or butterscotch ice cream when he had to be at the office early in the morning said a lot about how far they had come. When before, back when she lived in the flat, she had been reluctant to tell Crispin to take short showers to save electricity. But lately she had been distracted, and she didn't know why.
Crispin noticed it in the way she stared too long at the nursery wall after he had hung a print of Peter Pan, in the pauses between sentences that hadn't been there before, as if her mind had wandered. She was not distant, just...pensive. Wrapped in thought as though memories had pulled her away.
He tried to ask once, brushing her hair back as she stitched the edge of a quilt on the couch. "You alright, love?"
She smiled softly. "I'm just...thinking."
But she didn't say what about.
Her quilting had taken off. Orders were stacked up in neat rows on her studio calendar. She worked with her feet up, a growing bump beneath her soft yellow housecoat, warm light catching the curve of her pink cheek as she embroidered names and dates in soft pastel script. The nursery was slowly coming to life, too, filled with soft textures and neutral tones, all hand-picked by Aria and Crispin with careful love. Pale, moss-green. Dove-grey. A scattering of stars above the crib, as decided by Crispin.
They'd gone for another scan the week before, and the obstetrician confirmed that everything was perfect. Still, Crispin could feel her holding her breath when the sonologist pressed the wand to her belly.
He had his own secret though.
For weeks now, he'd been planning a surprise for her birthday: Lule and Rahul would arrive Friday evening. Just a small gathering with a few friends and a cake she liked-white chocolate and raspberry-even though, in his opinion, "Cake should be chocolate. Full stop. No other colours. No fruit, for god's sake!"
She laughed when he had said that.
