31. Angie
ANGIE
“Can I admit something to you?” I whisper it into the inky black. It’s late and I can’t sleep. Connor’s body is warm against mine in bed. His breath is steady on my neck, the curve of my spine fitting to his chest like a puzzle, one hand gently on my belly.
“What’s that?” he asks, a quiet rumble.
“I’m scared.”
“My dad’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of him.”
“Not about that. I mean, that too, but—“ I cover Connor’s hand with mine. “The morning sickness is getting better, but it’s still not great. I’m taking the vitamins. I’m doing what the doctor says, and I’m still worried.”
“That’s normal, baby. You’re going to be fine. You were made for this.”
I slap his wrist. “Easy for you to say.”
“Women have been having babies forever. If they can do it, you can do it too.”
“I know I can, it’s just…” I trail off, not sure how to explain it. I blow out a breath and turn to face him. His hands rest on my hips. “I never wanted to be a mother.”
He seems mildly surprised. “Why not?”
“Look at my only example. I never wanted to be a burden on someone, you know?”
“Being a mother doesn’t mean being a burden, love.”
“It does to me.”
“Angel—“
“No, please listen. I’ve always been afraid I’d end up like Dawn. Maybe not high all the time, but a waste. Nothing more than a pain in the ass for other people to deal with.”
“That’s not you.”
“I know, because I’ve worked hard?—“
“No, love, it’s not you.” He leans in and kisses me. “You are the most caring woman I’ve ever met. You saved my sister’s life. You went with Deck knowing it might be the death of you. You’ve sacrificed, over and over again, because that’s who you are.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You don’t, but I do.” He pulls my hands to his lips and kisses them. “You are a good person. You’re my balance, angel. I’m a bad man doing very bad things, but you tilt me back toward the light.”
I smile a bit, shuffling closer. “Not all the way though.”
“Never all the way,” he agrees. “You are going to be a fantastic mother. I promise.”
I kiss him, and this time the kiss lingers. Can he be right about that? In all this, I haven’t had much time to think about what it means for me with this baby coming. But once we have Deck, and Connor helps Sinead take over her family, the war will be done.
And what after it? Only life. The normal stuff. Waking up, going to work—if I still have a job anyway—breathing and laughing and whatever it is normal people do.
His hands roam down my body, tugging down my bottoms. I sigh as he rolls me onto my back and holds my hands above my head. He kisses me, moves down to my belly, kisses where the baby might be, but he doesn’t stop there. His mouth wanders around my hips, to my inner thighs, teasing and nipping.
“How’d we get from worried about being a mother to—“ I gasp as he pushes my underwear aside. His tongue glides up and down.
“To me tasting you?” He lets out a satisfied growl as he laps me up and down.
“Y-y-yes!” I arch against his mouth.
“I can’t help myself. You talk about children and I get all—“ His tongue slips inside of me.
“Oh, shit.” I grind against his mouth, breathing fast. All worries are instantly evaporated in the heat of him. I don’t know how I was ever afraid to begin with.
Connor licks me up, laps me, sucks and teases me. I spread my legs, whimpering his name as he goes faster, pleasure building in my core. I tug at his dark hair, fingers slipping through his silky, soft curls. My hair spills around me. I groan as he pulls back, thumb sliding up and down my slit.
“What are you doing?” My eyes fix on him, flushed and glowing.
“Did you think that was all?” He leans back and takes off his shirt. I take in his defined chest, the tattoos down between his muscles. Barbed wire, a Celtic cross, a dove on fire. “No, love, not even close.”
His mouth crushes to mine. I taste myself on his lips. He shimmies from his boxer briefs, his cock heavy and warm against my belly. I reach for it, gripping and guiding him between my legs, but he only lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, shoving me back with one hand on my chest.
“Mine,” he says, teasing his tip up and down my soaking pussy.
“Connor—“
“Say it. This pussy is mine.”
“Connor…”
“Say it, angel, or I won’t give you what you want. Say this pussy is mine.”
“My pussy is yours,” I moan.
He presses himself into me, but only half an inch. “Say you want me to fuck you.”
“Connor, please, fuck me.”
“Fill you?—“
“Fill me!”
“Rip you to pieces.”
I gasp, arching, and push down until he slips inside of me.
I groan at his size, the thickness of him spreading me wide.
He grumbles his bliss as he sinks in deeper, filling me to the brim, his mouth finding mine in a desperate kiss.
He pins my hands above my head and moves down, kissing my chest, sucking my nipples, as he starts to fuck me.
Our hips move together. He’s locked inside me, grinding in deep.
I whisper his name, whimpering, biting his shoulder.
Is this how he breaks me? Is this how he brings me back?
He fucks me faster, driving all the way home as he breathes the words against my throat.
“This pussy is mine,” he moans. “This mouth is mine.” He bites my lip.
“These tits are mine. That baby is mine.”
He thrusts faster, slapping into me, fucking me wildly now.
I bounce against him as the glow brightens in my core.
“Connor, please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for, beyond rational thought.
There’s only the building pressure mounting, mounting, my savage husband fucking me into quiet submission.
“Say you want to come,” he groans in my ear. “Please, baby. Ask me real nicely.”
“I want… to come… and when I do… I want to swallow you.”
He sucks in a breath, his eyes locked on mine. “Fuck, baby.”
“Now, Connor, please.”
He rips into me. He fucks me like a monster and I take him like it’s heaven. I gasp and moan, crying out as my triggers release and I break, shattering like glass all over his massive cock. I come so hard my skin flushes red, and he pulls out with a moan, dick glistening with my wetness.
“Now,” he begs and that word nearly makes me come again.
I turn as he thrusts into my mouth. I moan, licking, sucking, tasting my pussy on him, and he comes in seconds, filling my throat and tongue. I moan and suck and swallow every drop, rubbing his tip with my palm when he’s done and licking that off too.
His body collapses beside mine. His arms snake around me and pull me against him. I’m safe here in his arms. Safe and floating and happy.
“Good fucking girl,” he says low in my ear. “God, you’re such a good girl.”
We stay like that until the sweat cools on our bodies, and I’m thinking, maybe this can work. I can be a mother and I can be a wife to this man. If he can make me feel like this, like the outside world doesn’t matter so long as we’re together, I can do almost anything.
We balance each other. That’s what he said, right?
I need him to ground me, and I’ll do the same for him.