Page 64 of Slightly Married
“Spill it,” I said, trailing my fingers down his chest. “Every single detail, K. I want the whole story.”
As K recounted the day’s events, I listened with growing horror. Giorgos’ gambling debt and his arranging of the yacht attack.
“Wait, back up,” I interrupted when he mentioned Stella’s involvement. “Are you telling me she knew about this the whole time? The same woman who was playing devoted fiancée?”
I climbed into his lap to straddle him, needing to be closer as he continued with the devastating details—Giorgos reaping the benefits of Theo’s death, Stella drugging him, and everything that followed. “Damn,” I breathed when he finished. “That’s fifty shades of messed up. No wonder you came home looking like an extra from a horror movie.”
His expression was grim but somehow lighter as he grabbed my ass cheeks and began rocking my hips back and forth over his growing erection. “It’s over now.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said, cupping his face between my palms. “The truth is out, but healing from betrayal takes time. Trust me, I know a thing or two about being blindsided by people you thought had your back.”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “But unlike before, I’m no longer expending energy on misplaced guilt. Wounds heal faster when the infection is removed completely.”
His hands tightened on my hips as he added, “And I have better places to focus my attention.”
“I think Theo would be proud of you for uncovering the truth. For seeing it through, no matter how painful.” I pressed my lips to his forehead. “Let me take care of you tonight,” I whispered, moving to kiss his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, finally capturing his mouth.
K’s hands slid up my back, his fingers pulling my lace nightie up as it went. I shifted, lifting my arms so he could pull it off completely.
He reached up to cup my breasts, thumbing my nipples until they hardened. I moaned and threw my head back as sensation shot through me.
Capturing one peak in his mouth, he sucked and licked until I was whimpering. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his tongue circling and flicking, drawing out a deep throb of pleasure from within me.
Pushing him back, my hands trailed down his chest, tracing the defined muscles of his abdomen until I reached the waistband of his boxers. I tugged them down, freeing his erection. He kicked the boxers off, and I positioned myself over him, my knees on either side of his hips.
I lowered myself onto him, inch by inch. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I began to move.
He sat up, his mouth finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue mirrored the movements of our bodies, a tempo of give and take, push and pull.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my breasts pressing against his chest as we moved together. His mouth left mine, trailing kisses along my jaw, down my neck, capturing one breast again, sucking and nipping until I cried out and my inner muscles clenched around him.
His mouth returned to mine, his kiss hot and hungry. His grip on my hips tightened as he thrust upwards, meeting my downward gyrations with increasing urgency.
He moved one hand from my hip to find the spot where our bodies joined and circled my clit. The added stimulation sent me spiraling, my body clenching around him as the first pulses of my orgasm hit.
He captured my mouth in another kiss, swallowing my cries of release. His body tensed, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. And then, he came undone, his groan of release vibrating through me as he filled me with his sperm.
We stayed like that for a long moment, our bodies still joined, savoring the connection.
“K,” I whispered, pulling back to meet his eyes. “I have something to tell you. I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and maybe this is it.”
“What is it?”
I placed his hand against my stomach. “We’re having a baby.”
He froze. “A baby?” he repeated. “You’re certain?”
I nodded, smiling. “Blood test confirmed. Due April twentieth. Oh! I think conception happened the day youwife-nappedme. And I may have already peeked at some adorable baby clothes! And furniture!”
In one swift motion, he flipped me onto my back, hovering above me. His hand returned to my stomach.
“Michaila,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness. “My child is growing inside you.”
“I know, right? It’s completely wild!” I laughed, placing my hand over his.
He lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine softly. Then he moved downward, kissing my neck, the hollow of my throat, between my breasts, and finally, my stomach.
“I will protect you,” he murmured against my skin, his words meant for our child but his eyes locked on mine. “Both of you.”
