Chapter 26 #2
The pendant light gleams off the hardwood behind him as he leans in, and his hands slide up the backs of my thighs and under my nightie. I brace one hand on the counter, the other gripping his shoulder to stay upright—barely.
He kisses the inside of my knee, my skin already trembling. His breath is hot, his mouth achingly slow to move across the sensitive skin between my legs.
His hands stay glued to my thighs, but he lifts his eyes, and he takes my nightgown in his teeth, tugging it once before saying, “Lift this.”
I do as I’m told, my fingers curling into the soft hem and dragging the cotton up over my bump, and his nostrils flare at the sight.
I don’t wear panties to bed.
I haven’t shaven, but he didn’t care last time. He took me swollen and dripping and made me feel hot for it.
He flattens his tongue and drags it from the bottom of my seam right to the top, where he takes his time, slowly circling my clit. No rush, but the perfect pressure has my knees buckling.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, back arching.
He groans low, tasting me. “You fucking smell and taste so good.”
He dives back in with long, languid strokes of the tongue; he licks and then sucks my clit between his teeth.
“Ah…” I moan.
Every look, every touch, every protective promise… This is how he keeps it.
With his mouth.
I want to cry out. I want to beg. But I can’t make a sound. Not with my mom and grandma upstairs.
And that makes it hotter.
His hands roam—palming my ass, steadying my hips—and every flick of his tongue pushes me closer to a sharp, splintering edge.
“Anton…” I whisper, already shaking.
My hand hits the counter hard, stifling the moan I can’t hold in.
“That’s it, honey, make a mess all over my face.” He eats me possessively.
I’m softening, fluttering…
And then I break.
Silently. Violently.
Gloriously.
He eases me through it, licking as if reading my mind, drawing out every last flicker of my clit until I’m boneless.
He only stops when I collapse backward, braced on both hands against the counter.
When I finally look down, he’s watching me as if he’s ready to ravish every inch of my body.
I tug at his shoulder, pulling him up to my level, and his lips glisten with my wetness. He cups my pussy with his warm hand. God, it still feels so good. Being pregnant changes everything down there. I swear I could have multiple orgasms.
And to top it off, we’re together now.
I want him to feel this good.
“Your turn,” I breathe, lowering myself, tugging at the hem of his sweatpants.
He stops me.
“You think that’s what I want?” he growls. “I want inside you. Not your knees on a cold floor.”
Before I can respond, he spins me around with a grip that’s all command and hunger, guiding my hips back against him. My ass is on the cotton of his pants, but there’s no mistaking that hard shaft, pressing long and thick right through the material.
“Put your hands on the counter.” He leans over me, and his breath is warm against my ear. “Now, before I decide to drag you back to my bed and tie you up instead.”
I obey. God help me, I want to.
His fingers slide into my hair, twisting gently but with full intent, pulling just enough to make me think I want him to do it again harder. He pushes my nightgown up higher, the fabric gathers at the small of my back, and he takes my ass cheek in his giant grip.
“Look at you,” he breathes.
My entire body pulses at the praise.
“Fuck, Freya, your ass is a sight to behold.”
He slaps my ass, and a tiny, involuntary sound escapes me.
“I said quiet.” He lets out a dark laugh. “Make another sound like that, and next time, I’ll use the wooden spoon.”
Heat rushes between my legs again, and I swear I am so heavy for him in my core, I could cum with his words alone.
He lowers his mouth to my neck, teeth scraping softly at my skin. “But you like that, don’t you? The risk. Knowing they’re right upstairs?”
He shoves down his pants, and he presses his thick, hard shaft against my ass.
His fingers skim down my waist, gripping my hips, pulling me back against him in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Tell me you want this.” He shoves his hips against mine firmly, his dick hard along the length of my ass. “You want me to take you here? In our kitchen? Where I made you muffins this morning?”
“Yes,” I whisper, the words trembling out of me.
He slides his cock up and down the length of my seam, and damn, I’m slick. I’m so wet for this man.
“Maybe you aren’t such a good girl.” He spreads me apart and circles my entrance with his thumb.
And then, I feel the stretch as he sinks into me, slowly, so torturous, I find myself pressing against him with urgency.
“Shhh…” he says. “Slowly.”
He grabs my hips, and I brace myself on the counter as I feel every movement with heightened awareness. His dick bottoms out with each deliberate stroke. I’m so sensitive; every vein of his cock rumbles against the nerve endings inside me.
“Oh my God…” I murmur.
“You like that, honey?” He speaks through gritted teeth.
I rock myself back and forth. I need more. It feels too good not to chase, and God forbid, we get caught and have to stop in the middle of this.
I rock back eagerly, my ass slapping against his hips, chasing the depth, the pressure…
“Fuck, Freya,” he bites.
He drives into me, ramming deeper now.
His voice is rough. “Your curves, this fucking body…” He slides his hands up under my nightgown and tweaks my nipples, and I swear, my pussy gushes around his length.
“You’re dripping wet, honey. So messy…”
His dirty talk is bringing me to the edge. I grip the counter hard to hang on. He sets a punishing pace, then reaches around to feel for my clit.
There’s so much blood flow down there that the instant he touches me, I’m so sensitive, I burst apart. My pussy flutters around him, like I’m orgasming from every angle. My legs give out, and he wraps his arm around my hips to hold me up, all the while still thrusting hard.
I bite my teeth together to keep quiet.
His skin slaps against mine, the wetness making lewd sounds in the open space. Then finally, his release is hot inside me.
And I’m having an out-of-body experience.
When the aftershocks ease and the world settles back into its shape, he wraps his arms around me from behind, holding my weight and pressing his face into the curve of my neck.
“Time for bed,” he whispers, voice thick, low. “Our bed.”
I’m breathless. “Okay.”
Anton sweeps me into his arms like I weigh nothing.
He walks us up the stairs, clearly with no consideration for my mom or grandma walking out for any reason. He makes his claim evident.
Held against him, warm and spent, I feel something I never expected to feel so easily—content.
This man. This baby. This home.
The case is the only thing still standing between us and a life that feels almost unfairly good. And once it’s over, there’s nothing between me and the life I want.