25. Chapter 25 Scott
Chapter 25: Scott
One Year Later.
O ne year of waking up with Bree Taylor beside me, every single morning.
One year of knowing this woman is mine, in every way that matters.
And now? Six months of knowing she’s carrying my daughter.
Every time I touch her, I feel it, that protective, possessive surge that’s only gotten stronger. She’s not just my woman now. She’s the mother of my child. My family.
So, yeah. I wake her up with my mouth between her thighs every damn morning like it’s my life’s mission, and when I’m not doing that, I’m fucking her slow and deep, because I need her. Because I love her. Because every inch of her belongs to me.
I’m still buried inside her, her body soft and warm against mine, my hand resting over the growing swell of her belly. My dick is still hard because, let’s be honest, with Bree, I’m always fucking hard.
I kiss her neck, dragging my mouth down to her shoulder, tasting the sweat on her skin. I run my hand up from her stomach to her breasts, cupping the fullness there, loving the way her body is changing, rounding, growing because of me.
“You’re so perfect, sweetheart,” I murmur against her skin. “You know that?”
She hums softly, still coming down from her orgasm, but I feel her smile.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
I thrust into her again and slow, lazy, because I’m not ready to let her go.
She gasps, arching into me, and I grin against her neck. She’s more sensitive now. Pregnancy’s done that, and it drives me fucking wild.
“You want more, baby?” I ask.
She nods, biting her lip.
That’s all I need. I roll her onto her back, settling between her thighs, careful but firm, bracing myself above her as I start moving again.
Slow this time, deep and deliberate, because I want her to feel it.
Feel me. Feel what she does to me. Feel how much I love her.
Her hands slide up my arms, gripping my biceps, holding on as I rock into her, our bodies fitting together perfectly like they were made for this.
Her eyes flutter closed and I watch her, because watching Bree come apart is the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.
I feel her tighten around me, her nails digging into my skin, and I lose it, coming hard, deep inside her, filling her up like I’ve done a hundred times before. But this time, like every time, it feels like the first.
I collapse beside her, pulling her into my chest, kissing her temple as our breathing slows. We lie there in silence for a while, her hand resting over mine on her belly. I feel the slight flutter under my palm, our baby girl letting us know she’s there.
Every time it happens, I swear my heart feels like it’s going to burst.
“She’s active today,” Bree murmurs.
I grin, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Just like her mama. Stubborn.”
She swats my chest lightly, but she’s smiling. We stay like that for a while, quiet and content, before she turns her face up to me. “You still happy up here on your mountain? With me?”
She tilted her chin, making sure I could see the the truth in her eyes. “I’ve never been happier in my whole damn life, Scott.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and I kiss her before they can fall.
We built something here, something I didn’t know I was capable of having. A home. A family. Love.
It all started with her, my curvy, sassy, stubborn, best friend’s little city girl who came up to Misty Mountain and wrecked me in the best possible way.
I’m never letting her go. Not now. Not ever.
She’s finally mine.