Chapter 25
Reeva
“Do you have any idea how fucking much I’ve missed making love to you?
” he whispers, gently sweeping my hair away from my face.
“Having you curled against me every night and knowing I couldn’t touch you the way I ached to has been pure fucking torture.
” His lips brush tenderly against my temple.
“But I would have endured it forever if that was what you needed to feel safe with me again. Earning back your trust will always matter more than satisfying my hunger for you.”
My arms wrap around his neck, and my fingers slide into his hair. “Thank you for waiting. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m yours, and I want you to show me exactly how much you’ve missed me.”
“I fucking intend to,” he breathes.
He rises to his feet and extends his hand towards me.
I place mine in his, allowing him to help me stand.
Without releasing my fingers, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed and gives my hand a gentle tug, guiding me onto his lap until I am facing him.
His arms circle my waist and draw me securely against his chest. My hands fist in his shirt as he lowers his mouth to my neck, pressing a trail of slow, tender kisses along my skin.
“God, I love you.” His arms tighten around my waist as his tongue traces slowly along the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of heat that awakens every nerve beneath my skin.
A low moan slips from my lips, and my eyes flutter closed.
“And I intend to spend the entire night showing you exactly how much.” His voice falls to a husky murmur against my skin.
“Even then, it won’t be enough. A lifetime with you would never be enough.
” His teeth close gently over the sensitive curve of my neck, the sharp sting immediately soothed by the warm sweep of his tongue.
“Shaurya…” His name escapes me in a breathless plea as I draw back just far enough to meet his eyes.
A heated smile curves his mouth as his thumb drags slowly across my lower lip. “I fucking love the way my name sounds on your lips.”
“Please,” I beg, curling my fingers around the back of his neck and drawing him closer. “Stop teasing me.”
A low groan tears from his throat as his hand closes around the nape of my neck, and he claims my mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.
I answer with equal desperation, parting my lips as the kiss deepens and our ragged breaths are swallowed between us.
I thread my fingers through his hair and grip the dark strands as I press myself closer, craving a nearness that no amount of touch seems capable of satisfying.
“God, you’re so damn perfect for me,” he murmurs.
His mouth leaves mine and traces the curve of my jaw before moving towards my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through me. “Too damn perfect,” he whispers against me.
“I’m far from perfect,” I whisper, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. “But the way you look at me makes me feel as though I am.”
He draws back just far enough to meet my eyes, tracing one finger tenderly down my cheek. “You are perfect for me, sweetheart… your strength, your kindness, and every sweet, stubborn, incredibly sexy part of you. You always have been. I was simply too blinded by revenge to recognise what I had.”
“Aren’t you quite the charmer with your words?” I tease.
“Only with you, sweetheart.”
He rises, keeping me cradled securely in his arms, before turning and lowering me onto the mattress with exquisite tenderness. Bracing himself carefully above me, he lets his gaze travel over every feature of my face as though committing each detail to memory.
“I could look at you for the rest of my life and never grow tired of the sight,” he whispers.
I lift my hand and cradle his cheek in my palm. “Your words have always left me hot and bothered. And now these pregnancy hormones have only made it worse.” My voice dissolves into a breathless plea. “So please, Shaurya, stop this slow torture and ease the ache only you can.”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promises as he lowers his mouth to mine. “I’ll soothe every ache and remind you with every touch that you are cherished.”
His kiss begins slowly, almost reverently, before the restraint between us finally unravels.
My hands travel from his shoulders down the strong planes of his back, drawing him closer as his breath catches against my lips.
When I slip my hands beneath his shirt, his abdomen tightens beneath my palms, and my nails graze lightly over his heated skin.
In response, his hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, exploring me with growing urgency, though every movement remains careful and tender.
As his touch becomes more intimate, my head tips back and a breathless sound escapes me.
I surrender to every sensation and to the overwhelming tenderness of being cherished by him again.
He slowly helps me sit upright before lifting my shirt over my head.
Then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and slowly slides them down my legs.
His heated gaze travels from the black lace of my bra, over the subtle curve of my stomach, and down to the matching panties below.
His breathing grows heavier as his tongue drags slowly across his lower lip, and every inch of my exposed skin tingles beneath his attention.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingertips gliding from my thighs, over the gentle curve of my stomach, and up to the delicate lace of my bra. “I’ve missed seeing every beautiful inch of you.”
“I’ve missed those wicked hands too,” I confess.
His fingers pinch my hardened nipple through the delicate lace, making my breath hitch. Then his hand glides down over my stomach and slips beneath the waistband of my panties as a low growl rumbles in his chest.
“You’re so damn wet,” he hisses as his fingers begin sliding through my slick folds.
“Yes. For you,” I pant, bracing my hands against the mattress on either side of me for support.
“For me. Always,” he agrees possessively before lowering his head and nipping at my hardened nipple through the lace.
“I think you should do something about that shirt,” I manage between ragged breaths. “I’ve missed seeing you too.”
With a slow, heated smile, he withdraws his fingers from between my thighs and lifts them to his nose. His eyes drift closed as he inhales deeply.
I press my thighs together, desperate for even the slightest friction to ease the ache building between them.
Shaurya has always liked his sex dirty, with wicked words, shameless touches, and no desire left unspoken.
His boldness once made me blush, but he patiently taught me to embrace every secret craving I had been too shy to admit.
Now, I enjoy every filthy thing we do together just as much as he does.
When his eyes open, he locks his gaze with mine and slowly lowers his fingers to his mouth, drawing them between his lips and licking them clean. Only then does he reach behind his neck and pull his shirt over his head.
The sight of him steals my breath—the broad strength of his shoulders, the hard planes of his chest, and every familiar line of the body I once knew by heart and have clearly never forgotten.
My palms glide over his warm skin, tracing the breadth of his shoulders before moving slowly down his chest. His muscles tighten beneath my touch, but before I can slip my hands beneath the waistband of his trousers, he catches my wandering fingers.
“If you touch me now, this will be over far too quickly,” his voice strained with restraint. “And I’ve waited too long to worship you the way I intend to.”
He gently guides me onto my back and braces himself carefully above me.
His mouth returns to mine, and I welcome him eagerly as the kiss deepens.
His lips then trace a slow path across my cheek, beneath my chin, and down the sensitive curve of my neck.
I arch towards him, watching the hunger deepen in his expression as he slowly slips one strap of my bra from my shoulder.
He presses a kiss to the upper curve of my breast before slowly easing the lace cup down.
Reaching behind me, he unhooks the clasp and pulls the bra away, tossing it aside.
When his mouth closes around one sensitive nipple, pleasure ripples through me.
I fight to keep my eyes open, wanting to watch as his tongue circles the aching peak before lavishing the same attention on the other.
“Shaurya,” I whisper, my eyelids growing heavy beneath the slow, intimate devotion of his mouth.
“I’ve always loved your breasts, but seeing them grow fuller makes them even sexier,” he murmurs against them.
Then his kisses begin travelling gradually lower.
When he reaches the subtle swell of my stomach, the hunger in his touch softens into reverence.
He pauses, spreads one warm palm protectively over the curve and presses a lingering kiss to the skin, sheltering our baby before lifting his eyes to mine.
“Our baby truly is a miracle.”
The tenderness in his voice leaves a painful lump lodged in my throat. Unable to find the words to answer, I reach for him instead and thread my fingers through his hair.
He presses one final, reverent kiss to my stomach before slowly drawing my panties down my legs. Holding my gaze, he gently parts my legs before lowering his head between my thighs. His nose grazes my most intimate flesh, making my breath catch.
“Mmm… you smell so fucking delicious,” he breathes, making my fingers tighten in his hair.
“I need to taste you, sweetheart,” he murmurs desperately before lowering his mouth to my core.