Chapter 44
forty-four
GRAY
Ciar’s roar as he came was as satisfying as if she’d come herself. She let his still semi-erect length slip from her mouth.
“Fuck, Gray. Fuck.”
He bent at the waist and kissed her savagely while lifting her, moving her to the head of the bed, knocking extra pillows out of his way as he went.
“Gray, baby,” his roughened voice cracking, “tasting me in your mouth makes me crazy.”
To prove his point, he devoured her mouth like it was his favorite treat. “Your turn,” he warned, licking and kissing down her neck, across her chest, until he palmed her aching breasts.
“Yes,” she hissed, the sensitive flesh more than ready for him. He spent so long on her nipples, sucking and pinching, that she felt the beginnings of an orgasm from that alone.
As if sensing she was close, he let one of her breasts pop from his mouth and kept journeying lower. His big hands cupped her belly as he placed sweet kisses over the mound. “My son,” he said, lips brushing her skin.
“I’m nothing without you, Gray MacGregor.”
Gray felt tears prick her eyes at his sincerity. She felt the same. She swallowed the heavy emotion, praying for the thousandth time that he didn’t make her regret it.
At the first breath over her core, she gasped, instantly lifting her hips, greedy for more. The first full swipe of his tongue up her seam practically made her levitate. “Ciar, yes.”
“Like that, do you?” he asked before working her body like only he could.
“You know I do,” she moaned as two fingers joined his tongue. Less than five minutes later, she was screaming his name and holding his head so tightly between her thighs, she chanced suffocating him.
He lapped at her sensitive flesh until her body calmed and then stretched over her body, careful of the bump, to kiss her tenderly. He sat up, kneeling between her legs.
She grinned, glancing between his legs where he was fully erect and bobbing up and down. “Looks like you recovered just fine.”
“I’ll show you recovered, woman,” he grinned back, positioning himself at her slick entrance.
He frowned and hesitated, which caused some alarm. Gray started to reach a hand between her legs, because in this position, she couldn’t see. “What?” she squeaked, as he caught her hand and placed it back on the bed.
“Is it safe? I mean, I’m not small, and you are, and the baby is,” he tapped the swell of her low baby bump, “right there.”
Gray chuckled. “I’m hardly small, Ciar. I’m bigger than all my friends.”
He gave her a hard look before rubbing his sex against her entrance. Her heart lurched when he said, “You’re perfect.”
“It’s safe to have sex. Mags asked the doctor. In fact, she asked enough explicit questions that the doctor was even blushing.”
“You’re sure?”
“Very,” she urged, moving her hips enough that he barely pushed in, causing them both to groan.
He trailed his fingers down her chest and over her bump once more, only stopping when she gasped and caught his hand from moving lower.
“What is this?” she demanded, leaning forward to touch the side of his neck. He had a new tattoo that she’d only now noticed.
Gray almost died when the big, tough Irish-Russian brute blushed. He touched the side of his throat where two words were tattooed in swirly script, surrounded by miniature grayscale flowers.
Gray Imogen.
“Your name, but it’s really for both my girls,” he shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.
He’d named his daughter after Gray. How could she ever keep that man at arm’s length?
“Christ, Ciar. What if…what if we don’t work out, and you’re stuck with me on your neck?” she choked on the question.
“You’ll always be mine.” It was as simple as that.
Romantic. She traced his firm, soft lips. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” In appreciation, she put him out of his celibate misery and lifted her hips enough to take half his length.
“Fuck, baby.” His control snapped. “You’ll tell me to stop, if you need to?”
“Yes, damn it! Now, babe,” she demanded and thank the Lord, he complied.
He went slowly, giving her body time to adjust. “Tight,” he groaned, “strangling me.”
She felt faint tremors dancing across her skin from his touch. He was fully within her now, holding still, their bodies already warm, flushed, and slick with sweat.
“Good?”
“So good,” she moaned. And then he was moving, the push and pull of their flesh coming together, full then empty, a blessing and a loss with every thrust.
Her body remembered Ciar. Her heart did too. She’d ached for the closeness they were sharing again. “I care for you, Ciar. So much,” she confessed, arching her body off the bed to meet each of his thrusts.
He moved faster and faster until they were both wrecked and quivering, shouts and moans of completion echoed off the bedroom walls.
In the silence that followed her words, Gray pretended like the ache in her heart wouldn’t kill her.
Ciar lay his head next to hers on the pillow and let his body tip to one side, where he pulled her close. He didn’t utter a word. He didn’t placate her with words of “like.” For that, she was immeasurably thankful.
Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d put her heart out there and had it handed right back. She said “cared for,” not “love,” but he knew. He knew very well how much she loved him.
He cared for her. She knew he did. They just needed time, and hopefully when he returned from Tokyo, they’d have it.
After thirty minutes of boneless chill, they showered, which led to more intimate activities. By the time Gray had dried her hair enough not to soak the bed, her eyes were drooping.
“Lay down, baby, and let me hold you until I have to leave.”
Gray couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.
She was wearing a short, pine green silk nightdress, the material sliding decadently over the swell of her belly and breasts.
Mags had borrowed it once, so she brought it over earlier when she and Bébhinn visited, which was why she had any nightclothes at all.
“Jesus, Gray. I have to leave soon, and you’re wearing that,” he complained.
She rolled in his arms until they were facing. From his shaved head to his muscled body covered in tattoos, no one would believe what a sweet, thoughtful man he was. Seeing him with his daughter had proven he had plenty of love to give, and she knew he would dote on their son the same.
Was she selfish to want that love for herself?
She ran her hands over his head, massaging and dragging her nails over his scalp, before using the pads of her fingers to trace his face. Ciar closed his eyes and practically purred beneath her touch.
She traced his shoulders and chest, down the arm lying atop his side, tracing his hand before beginning on his stomach muscles and V-line. Her fingers traced the band of his boxers where his erection strained.
He didn’t ask her to take him out, but his hips undulated when her touch was close to where he wanted it.
“Gray,” He pleaded. “Fifteen minutes.”
She knew when he had to leave. Before he could anticipate her move, she swung her left leg over his waist and sat straddling his hips.
Tugging her nightie over her head, she said, “How fast can you get us off then, baby?” she teased.
Ciar pulled his boxers low enough until his sex sprang free, and while he lined himself up with her entrance, she lowered slowly.
“Fuck, Gray, fuck,” he moaned as he watched her take his length. “Never have enough of you.”
“Never,” she mirrored, arching her back and pushing her belly high.
“So perfect, baby, carrying our son.”
He started pistoning faster from his back. She rocked, moaning his name, concentrating on the sensation, her orgasm building faster than ever. When his thumb pressed the sensitive nub above where they were joined, her body went off like fireworks.
As her inner muscles pulsed and squeezed Ciar, his body stiffened, a satisfied “Ahh,” his guttural cry as he followed her over the edge.
Once the aftershocks had subsided, he looked at her, curved over his body. Gray MacGregor was precious to him. After months apart, feeling her heartbeat against his was nothing short of miraculous.
He clasped her ribs just above her bump. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be here when you get home.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. I don’t ever want to be where you aren’t, Ciar,” she admitted, “but you’ve promised a come-to-Jesus with me the moment you’re back in Dublin, and I’ll hold you to it.”
Gray hadn’t been happy about waiting even the one week until he got home, but she did understand that they’d had a heck of a day.
Ciar found out she was pregnant. Tina tore her knee in a fall. Gray agreed to move temporarily into his home and care for his daughter and decorate, which admittedly, wasn’t a hardship, since it was her second favorite thing to do after hospitality.
He also interrupted her lunch with Cannon, for which she still wanted to strangle him. As though he’d read her mind, Ciar sat up, keeping their bodies connected, and asked, “You won’t talk to your ex again, right?”
“Of course, I will. What the hell, Ciar? Cannon and I are friends.”
“He doesn’t want to be your friend. He was touching you, and as a man who understands men, I can assure you, pregnant or no, he wanted you.”
“Don’t be gross.” Her cheeks felt fiery.
“No talking to anyone we’ve ever slept with. For either of us.”
“Well, that’s a short list for me. You, not so much.”
“I mean it, Gray,” his voice rumbled as he bent to suck on her neck.
She shrieked, shoving him back. “Don’t you dare give me a love bite where my mom and grandma can see.”
“I’ll do what I have to unless you tell me you won’t speak to that dipshit you were going to eat lunch with.”
“You’re being impossible. I would never get back with him. Obviously.” She cupped her belly to make her point.
He didn’t say anything else, but his features were frozen in, not so much disapproval, but hurt.
The fact that he had a child with another woman, a child that she was going to be caring for, and he was worried about her letting Cannon know that “All is well. No need to worry. Have a great life.” Unbelievable.
“Ciar,” she began softly, shifting off his lap so that he could get dressed, “you’re being unreasonable.”
He stood from the bed, still gloriously naked, and pulled her to her feet to face him. “I don’t think you understand just how long I’ve wanted you to be mine, Gray, but now that you are, I refuse to share. Even if you weren't pregnant, I wouldn’t want you to spend time with him.”
She expelled an exasperated breath against his chest. “I’ve wanted you just as long, you idiot.”
“So?” he pressed.
“Fine, but we’ll revisit this when you get home.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, “Hurry home.”