Chapter 19
I didn’t bother putting my panties back on. Soon as we hung up I slid them all the way off, tossed them somewhere by the bed, and lay there catching my breath. My thighs still trembled a little. The lamp cast everything in that soft yellow glow. The room smelled like my body oil and sex.
I kept glancing at the clock.
By the time headlights swept across my curtains, my heart was already beating faster again.
The front door opened a second later, keys in the lock, his heavy steps familiar on my hardwood.
“Sev,” he called, voice low.
“In here,” I answered.
He walked into the bedroom and stopped dead.
I was propped against the headboard in his old T-shirt and nothing else, legs loose, the hem just barely covering my stomach.
His eyes dragged over me slowly.
From my messy curls.
To my still-flushed chest.
To the bare stretch of thigh and the obvious fact nothing was on under the shirt. A little smile tugged at his mouth, but his eyes were dark, focused.
He shut the door with his foot, came closer, setting his phone on the dresser without looking away from me.
“You okay?” he asked first, like he always did.
A real question, not a formality.
I nodded, warmth pooling again just from him being in the room. “Yeah. Better now that you here.”
His gaze softened at that.
“I couldn’t leave you like that,” he said quietly.
“Good,” I said. “Because I was ready to Uber to that club pregnant and barefoot.”
He huffed out a laugh, that little almost-smile getting bigger.
Then he reached the bed and braced his hands on the mattress, leaning in close enough for me to feel his breath.
“Let me see you again,” he murmured, eyes dropping to where the shirt bunched around my hips. “For real this time.”
I lifted the hem and opened my legs for him, heat sparking at the way his eyes darkened.
“Welcome home, Batman,” I said.
He exhaled slow.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m home.”
He crawled onto the bed slowly.
“Shirt off,” I said, voice softer than I meant.
He obeyed without arguing, fingers catching the hem of his tee and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion.
For a second I just…looked.
He caught it and his ears did that faint pink thing.
“Stop staring,” he muttered.
“Absolutely not.”
A tiny smile flickered, then faded as his focus dropped back between my thighs.
His hands slid up the inside of my legs, thumbs stroking the soft skin there.
“You still shaking,” he murmured.
“You did that,” I said. “Through a camera like some freak.”
His mouth curved. “You liked it.”
“I did,” I admitted.
He leaned down, pressed a warm kiss to the inside of my knee, then another higher up. His lips were soft, unhurried, his beard dragging just enough to make my skin prickle. By the time he reached the place where my thigh met my hip, his breath was warm against me and my own had gone shallow again.
He glanced up at me. “Okay?” he asked, one last check-in.
“Yes,” I said. “Come here.”
Instead of going up, he went down.
He pressed his mouth directly over my clit and my whole body jolted like I’d touched a live wire.
“Oh,” I exhaled, fingers flying to his hair automatically, his locs wrapping around my knuckles.
“I missed you,” he said against me, voice muffled. “For real.”
Then he stopped talking.
His tongue moved in one slow, dragging stroke from my entrance all the way up to my clit and back down. He did it again, same pace, same pressure, and I felt my thighs try to close around his head before his palm spread flat against the inside of my leg and held me open.
“Kasen…” I whispered, head tipping back into the pillow.
He groaned against me, low in his throat, and the vibration rolled straight through my clit and up my spine. My hips lifted without my permission.
He knew my body now.
Knew that if he angled his tongue slightly right and kept the pressure light, my hips would roll up to meet him. Knew that since I’d gotten pregnant everything felt intensified.
He sealed his mouth around my clit, soft suction, tongue moving in slow, unhurried circles underneath it, and my fingers tightened in his locs hard enough that he made a sound against me, half groan, half encouragement.
“You gon’ make me cum in five minutes,” I warned, the words breaking apart on a moan.
He pulled back long enough to say “Good. I owe you one,” mouth wet, voice rough, and then his lips were back, and his tongue pressed flat and rolled upward, and I stopped being able to form sentences.
He worked me slow, no urgency, thumb hooked gently at the crease of my thigh keeping me spread for him while his tongue made those same lazy circles, over and over, until my breathing was nothing but shallow pulls of air and my free hand was twisting in the sheets.
The orgasm built the way the second one always did, deeper, heavier, less sharp and more consuming. My thighs trembled against his shoulders. My back curved off the mattress.
“Kasen—” His name came out broken.
He pressed closer, sealed tighter, tongue flicking faster over my clit while two fingers slid into me without warning, curling upward, finding the spot that made my vision go white at the edges.
I came with his face buried between my thighs and his fingers pressing into me and his name tearing out of my throat rough and uneven, hips grinding against his mouth while he worked me through every tremor until I was limp and oversensitive and had to tug his locs to make him ease off.
He kissed the inside of my thigh once, then again. Then he moved up my body, mouth dragging over my stomach, pressing one slow, soft kiss to the curve there.
“Hey, little man,” he murmured against my skin. “Mommy doing great.”
My eyes stung before I could stop them.
His mouth reached mine and I could taste myself on his tongue when he kissed me, deep and unhurried, and I was half laughing and half crying into it with my arms wrapped around his shoulders and my heart so full it ached.
“You so extra,” I whispered against his lips.
“You love it,” he said, and kissed me again, slow.
He wasn’t wrong.
I did.
He settled his weight between my thighs, He held himself there, right at my entrance, like he was giving me a second to change my mind.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
I dragged my eyes up from where our bodies met.
His gaze was soft.
“You okay?” he asked. “For real.”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I’m good. Just…sensitive.”
“I know,” he said. His hand came up, brushed a curl off my forehead. “We go slow.”
He pushed in an inch, then stopped.
The stretch still made me suck in a breath. Every time I forgot how big he was until he was right there again, reminding me.
“That too much?” he asked immediately, searching my face.
“No,” I shook my head. “Just…give me a sec.”
He waited.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Breathe for me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You got it.”
I followed his voice, sucking in air, letting it go slow. The tight pinch eased into a deep, full ache.
“Okay,” I whispered. “More.”
He eased in another inch, watching my face the whole time.
“Good,” he said. “You taking me so good, Sev.”
My pussy pulsed at the praise.
“Keep going,” I said.
He slid in the rest of the way, until his hips met the back of my thighs. Both of us exhaled at the same time.
“You feel me?” he asked, voice rougher now.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “All of you.”
He stayed still, chest pressed to mine, forehead resting lightly against my temple.
“Let me know when,” he said. “You call the pace.”
My fingers skimmed up his back, nails dragging lightly. “You can move,” I murmured after a few beats. “Slow, though.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He pulled back just a little, then pushed in again, the angle catching that place that made my toes curl.
“Aah—right there,” I gasped.
“Right there?” he echoed, adjusting his hips a fraction. “That the spot?”
“Yes,” I said, voice catching. “Don’t change it.”
“I won’t.” His hand slid under my thigh, lifting it higher around his waist to keep that line. “Wrap this leg tight. There you go. Just like that.”
The new angle had him even deeper, the weight of him perfect, the pressure hitting exactly where I needed.
“Tell me if it’s too much on your stomach,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I managed. “You not heavy.”
He huffed a breath that was almost a laugh. “I am heavy. I’m just careful with you.”
The way he said it made something in my chest squeeze.
His rhythm settled—slow, deep strokes, like he was trying to put the whole day into each one.
“You feel how easy I’m sliding?” he murmured against my cheek. “How warm you are?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all you,” he said. “Your body opening up for me, every time. You know how crazy that feel?”
I whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders.
“Relax your jaw,” he said gently. “You clenching.”
“You talking too much,” I muttered, but it came out breathless.
He smiled against my skin. “You asked me to talk you through it.”
“Yeah but not…like this,” I gasped when he rolled his hips a little more. “Oh my God.”
His hand left my thigh, slid up and under my shirt, cupping my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple.
I jerked.
“Mmhm,” he murmured. “Knew you needed this.”
“Don’t—” I broke off on a shaky inhale as he pinched gently. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing,” he said. “You know what this do to you.”
He moved his thumb again, a slow, circling drag over the sensitive peak, timed with the push of his hips.
The combination was insane.
“I got you,” he whispered. “Just follow me. Don’t worry about nothing else.”
My eyes stung a little at how easily he read me.
“Focus on how it feel right here,” he said, thrust a little deeper, “and right here.” His thumb rolled again. “You hear me?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “I hear you.”
“You feel how you squeezing me?” he added, voice almost in my ear now. “Every time I pull out a little, you grab me like you don’t wanna let go.”
My pussy clenched right on cue.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “You so damn responsive.”
Heat pooled low in my stomach, tighter with each stroke.
“That pussy getting ready to cum,” he said.
He wasn’t asking. He could feel it.
“Yes,” I admitted. “You gonna–”
“I’m good,” he cut in gently, like he knew what I was about to worry about. “Don’t think about me. I wanna feel you first. Always.”
My throat tightened.
“Cum for me,” he said quietly. “Let me feel you cum on this dick. You safe. We good. You can let go.”
His words tipped me over the edge.
My whole body arched, a choked sound punching out of my chest as my pussy clenched around him. It was deep, rolling, my vision going white. He kept the same steady pace, riding it with me, one hand gripping my hip now, the other still on my breast.
“There you go,” he coaxed. “There you go, Sev. That’s it. You so pretty like this, you don’t even know.”
I shook, riding it out, breath stuttering, nails digging into his back.
When the worst of it ebbed, he slowed, pressing his forehead to mine, breathing hard himself.
“You okay?” he asked again, softer.
“Yeah,” I whispered, still dazed. “Yeah. I’m…wow.”
He laughed softly, kissed the corner of my mouth.
“You wanna stop?” he asked. “Or you got one more in you?”
I smiled, lazy, eyes half-open. “You?”
His answer was in the way he was still thick and hard inside me.
“I’m right behind you,” he said honestly. “But I ain’t going nowhere if you tapped out.”
I studied his face—open, waiting, not pushing.
“I got you,” I said quietly. “C’mon. I wanna see you too.”
His eyes darkened.
“This okay?” he asked, rolling his hips a little deeper again, testing.
“Yes,” I said with no hesitation.
He set a new rhythm then—still careful, but with a little more drive under it now that he knew I was good. His mouth found mine, swallowing the small sounds I couldn’t hold in.
He let himself react this time, voice dropping, little curses slipping out against my lips when I squeezed him on purpose.
“Don’t—fuck—do that,” he groaned.
“Why?” I murmured, doing it again, in.
“‘Cause,” he grit out, breath hot at my cheek, “I’m tryna be presentable, and you gon’ have me embarrassing myself in your ear.”
“You already did that with the camera,” I teased, even as I twitched from the sensation.
He laughed, then cut off on a deep inhale, pace stuttering.
“Aight,” he panted. “You win. I’m finna nut.”
I kissed his jaw, whispered into his skin, “It’s okay, Batman. Come on.”
The nickname at that moment did something to him.
His hips snapped a little harder, once, twice, then he buried himself as deep as he could safely go, whole body going tight.
He groaned, low and rough, forehead dropping to my shoulder as he let go.
I held him through it, arms wrapping around his back, hand cradling the back of his head the way he always did for me.
When his breathing finally slowed, he stayed there for a second, heavy and warm and completely relaxed.
Then he moved gently, careful of my stomach, and rolled just enough to the side that he wasn’t crushing me, but didn’t pull out yet.
We lay there in the quiet, our chests rising and falling in sync.
“You always…” I trailed off, voice small. “Talk to me like that.”
“Like what?” he asked, still a little breathless.
“Like I’m…precious and nasty at the same time,” I said.
He made a small sound that might’ve been a laugh.
“That’s ‘cause you are,” he said simply.
My throat did that annoying tight thing again.
“I like it,” I admitted. “You talking me through it.”
“I like doing it,” he said. “Helps me stay out my head. Focus on you instead of…numbers.”
“Of course you be doing math during sex,” I groaned.
“Not anymore,” he said. “I got better things to count now.”
“Like what?”
He slid his hand down, fingers resting gently over the small curve of my belly.
“Heartbeats,” he said quietly.
For once, I didn’t have anything slick to say back.
I laced our fingers together over that little bump and let myself breathe into the softness he kept making space for.