Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Naomi
The soft glow of the bedroom lamp cast a warm light over the room, highlighting the edges of the mirror I stood before. The reflection staring back at me was familiar but different—a body that had always been curvy, now carrying new weight, new life. My hands rested on the soft swell of my stomach, the evidence of the two tiny lives growing inside me.
I traced the gentle curve of my belly, my fingers light against the skin. My bralette and shorts framed me in the mirror, emphasizing every curve I’d spent years learning to accept. But tonight, the insecurities crept back in. Was I still beautiful? Would Hudson still see me the same way, now that my body was changing so drastically?
The thought sent a flicker of doubt through me, and I pressed my hands against my stomach, trying to push the feelings away. I was carrying our babies—his babies. That should have been enough. But the voices in my head whispered otherwise.
“You’re not enough,” they said. “You’ll never be enough.”
“Naomi?”
Hudson’s voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned slightly, catching his reflection in the mirror as he stepped into the room. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled from the shower. The sight of him, all muscle and strength, made my breath catch.
He stopped when he saw me, his gaze sweeping over my body in the mirror. His brow furrowed slightly, his lips parting as if to say something, but he hesitated.
“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice low and steady.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening against my stomach. “Just... thinking.”
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine in the mirror. “About what?”
“About this,” I said, gesturing vaguely to my reflection. “About... me.”
His brow furrowed deeper, and he closed the distance between us, his hands resting lightly on my waist. His touch was warm, grounding, but it also sent a spark racing through me.
“What about you?” he asked softly.
I looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “About whether you’ll still want me. Like this.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, but when he spoke, his voice was filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. “Naomi. Look at me.”
I lifted my gaze to the mirror, meeting his reflection. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite name.
“How can you not see it?” he said, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “You’re breathtaking.”
“Hudson,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean,” he said, his voice firm. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me back against him. The heat of his body pressed against mine, and I felt the strength of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Every inch of you. You’re carrying our babies, Naomi. You’re creating life. How could you ever think you’re not enough?”
His words made my chest ache, and my insecurities began to melt under the weight of his gaze. He slid his hands up my sides, his fingers skimming the edge of my bralette. The light touch sent a shiver through me, and my breath hitched.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice rough now. “Every curve. Every part of you. And it drives me insane.”
“Hudson,” I whispered again, my voice barely audible.
“Shh,” he said, pressing his lips to my neck. The kiss was soft at first, teasing, but it deepened quickly. His tongue flicked against my skin, and I gasped, my hands gripping the edge of the dresser for balance.
He caught my gaze in the mirror, his eyes burning with need. “You don’t believe me yet,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But you will.”
He moved behind me, his hands roaming over my curves with a reverence that made my knees weak. He slid the straps of my bralette down my arms, letting it fall away, and the cool air against my bare skin was quickly replaced by the heat of his touch.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands tracing the soft lines of my body. “Every inch of you.”
I felt his lips against my shoulder, then my neck, trailing kisses that left me trembling. His hands found my stomach, his fingers splayed wide as if to cover as much of me as he could.
“This,” he said, his voice husky as he pressed a kiss to the curve of my belly. “This is everything. You’re everything.”
I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling as I met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that made my skin flush. I reached for him, my fingers tracing the lines of his chest, his shoulders, the sharp edge of his jaw.
“You make me feel... alive,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion.
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed me, his lips capturing mine in a way that stole my breath. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me against him, and I felt the heat of him, the strength, the steady pulse of his desire.
“Let me show you,” he murmured against my lips. “Let me show you how much I love you.”
Time seemed to blur as he guided me to the bed, his touch slow and deliberate. He worshiped every part of me, his lips and hands exploring every curve, every inch, until there wasn’t a single doubt left in my mind.
When we finally came together, it wasn’t just about passion. It was about connection, about love, about the promise of the life we were creating together. And as I lay in his arms afterward, his hand resting protectively over my stomach, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.
Whole. Wanted. Loved.