Page 121 of Thick as Thieves
“Fourteen months ago seems like an age, but also no time at all,” he says, bending his head towards me. “Join me?” His expression shutters. He doesn’t know what I’ll say.
“Of course,” I say softly, a smile playing around my lips as I hold his big hands in mine.
He swings me towards him and starts on the buttons on my blouse, pulling it slowly from my jeans as he goes. Touching my bare skin with reverence, opening out the silk of the fabric, his hands caress my body. It’s as if he’s opening a most precious gift. Each movement considered, the delicate touch designed to reveal the glorious offering inch by delicious inch.
My breathing picks up, his face serious, careful, painstaking. He takes in the marks on my body, brushing his fingertips over them as he glides the blouse off my shoulders, lower and lower down my arms, unhooking my bra as his hands skate down my back. His silk-like fingers trail over my nipples, and I sigh and push my enlarged breasts into his hands.
“God, I fucking love your tits. I’ve missed them.” He grins, his breath a whisper against my skin as he bends his head to lick around first one nipple, then the other. “Still so big and beautiful,” he sighs, nipping at me.
I groan out, and it’s the starting gun that breaks his tranquil state. Electricity pulses through me as if we’ve both plugged into a socket. He’s electrified, he’s energised. I’m vibrating with want and pure lust. The growl from the back of his throat amps up the megawattage.
He becomes desperate as I remove his shirt and push at his jeans.
“I need to be inside you, I can’t fucking think straight. Will it be okay?” His eyes are a pool of desire and need, but his voice is full of trepidation.
Why is he asking? He’s being ridiculous. He’s normally full on. Then it hits me. He doesn’t know, not really, what’s okay and what isn’t. He’s never spent any real length of time with me as a pregnant woman. Never had the full glorious experience. First time around I ran. Second time he did.
“Yes, it’s fine, I love you Kell, I need you,” I coax and reassure him. He doesn’t need any further invitation.
He drops to his knees, pulling my jeans down as he goes, dragging them off. “Hold onto me,” he commands as he lifts my leg and puts it over his shoulder, licking into me. My extra blood flow has made me super sensitive, and I cry out, knowing if he carries on there I will not hold on long. He holds me hard and thrusts his tongue into me.
“Fuck, so gorgeous.” He’s eating at me like a man who has been on a diet for a year. He moves his fingers onto my clit and then sucks it into his mouth.
Game over for me. My legs buckle, and I come, juices flowing into his mouth as he licks at me harder and harder.
Picking me up, he puts me onto the bed and thrusts into me. Not a word has he said, when normally he is so full of chat. He arches up and away, his eyes closed, his neck muscles standing out in relief. The pace he’s setting is crazy.
But then he stops and pulls out, manoeuvring me gently onto my side. “I’m worried about my weight on you,” he says, laying directly behind me, lifting my hips gently and pushing back inside with a moan from the bottom of his soul. “Fuck that feels so good.”
He’s gentle at first, but as his movements become more erratic, he becomes wilder and wilder. I push back onto him, craving him to push harder. Telling him so.
“Evie, god I love you, baby,” he murmurs as he holds my hips, slapping his flesh onto mine.
The noise of sex, the smell of sex, permeates my senses as he leans forwards and nips my neck and shoulders, calling out my name as I feel him swell inside me and come.
Continuing to move, like he hasn’t got enough of me, he gentles his thrusts, grinding his piercing onto my overflowing walls. I pulse and call out to him, my pussy grabbing hold and not letting go. He groans out, his eyes closed, breathing heavy as he pulls me in closer to his body. He stills inside me, our connection maintained.
“Christ. I lost it a bit there. Did I hurt you? The baby? God, Kitten, I lost the plot.”
I shush him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Stop. It’s fine. I would say if you hurt me. You never. I love how you love me, you know I do.” He kisses my hair, running his nose down my neck. “Although I have to say, I think my sex drive has gone a bit mad.”
He chuckles. “Not a problem. Here to serve, madam, to the best of my abilities.” He hugs me to him. “God I missed you, so fucking much. I’m so sorry I never told you about the test and the vasectomy.” His eyes are on me, looking traumatised. “I never thought about any more children, how you would feel, what a selfish fucker. I was scared to death that whatever is wrong with me, I would not get away with it again.” He’s choking on his words.
“I know. And I wouldn’t want to put you through it. But I am, in fact, pregnant again, and no pregnancy is without risk. Even if both people are healthy, sometimes things happen,” I counsel.
He nods. “But me being responsible, I just couldn’t cope. But I should have said, and talked it over with you. It may not have changed the outcome, but at least you would have known.” He’s ashamed of his actions, it’s written across his face.
I nod at him. “Don’t leave me in the dark again. And no more paternity tests on any more children.”
“Oh God, what a mess we’ve made of things. The ultimate responsibility for those tests lies with me. I made the final decision to test the kids. I knew someone would come for us. All the hate—from those women, the online trolling, my mother. The woman who tried to push you into the road. I needed it to stop. I wanted to have it just in case, all bases covered.” He grins a little. “Do I sound like Jonno yet?” I shake my head at him. Jonno has a lot to answer for, too.
“I did trust you. I never opened that fucking envelope. Just dumped it in the safe. The only time it’s been opened was at my mother’s dinner.” He sighs. “I didn’t come home from LA because I thought I was cursed. Not to do with how much I love and trust you. It was that I was desperate to have and hang onto. If that would have gone the wrong way, because I turned up, I couldn’t have carried on.”
He pulls me even closer. “I love you. The words are just not enough. The fact that we could have lost Xan. I could have lost you.” He’s shaking his head in disbelief. “I promise, I will never deliberately hurt you. I know I can be an idiot at times. I’m praying Xan will clobber me if I’m being one. But I do love you. I love our family, even your family.” He grins at that. “Not so sure about my mother. She’s in pieces. She’s never off the phone. I know she’s a pain, but she does love Xander. Growing up, he spent more time at our house than he did his own.”
He stops talking, rolling me over to face him, tracing my face with his fingers. His voice is soft, loving, gentle when he starts again.
“When you said yes to me and Xan in Scotland, it was like some sort of unbelievable utopia. I had to pinch myself to make sure it was all real. We were different, everything about us is different. It was love, Kitten. Not sex, not fucking. It was love. That was the difference. Xander wanted love. He wanted to love us. And for us to love him. For it not to be just sex. With you and Xan, it’s so much more. It’s everything. Absolutely everything.”
