Chapter 45
KODIAK
Nine Months Later
She’s standing by the window in the late afternoon light, backlit and soft, hands pressed into the small of her back like she’s trying to ease the pull of carrying what we made.
I pause in the doorway.
Sunlight’s spilling through the glass, painting her in gold. Swell of life plain under her chemise, clinging to every curve. And those breasts—Lord, those breasts—near ready to spill over the neckline, heavy and swollen with the promise of life.
It’s sweet, but then my hands go cold, numb.
My chest tightens. Lately, it’s like the Devil’s hiding ’round every corner.
Ain’t normal. I should be overjoyed—and I am—but then I think on my ma, on how I came into this world killing, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe fate’s been sitting back, waiting patient for me to get soft, to love something enough for it to hurt.
She don’t see me at first. I take a step in, boots scuffing the floor just enough to catch her ear. She turns. Her lips part like she forgot whatever it was she meant to say and holds the round swell under her dress.
I walk up close. “You feelin’ all right?”
Her cheeks flush. “I’m fine. I’m starting to wonder how long she plans to keep us waiting.”
I never paid no mind to those old wives tales about high bellies or low ones. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I don’t care either way, long as at the end of this I got a wife and a child both.
“You know how long you take gettin’ ready. Our little girl wouldn’t be no different.”
I lean down, press my forehead to hers, and for a moment I forget the fear and the ghosts and the stories I been telling myself about fate. There’s just her, warm and alive, smelling like rosemary soap. God, she’s perfect like this.
“I been watchin’ you,” I say. “You glowin’. Every time you move, I can’t think straight. I swear I ain’t had a peaceful thought since that bump started showin’.”
She breathes in slow, chest lifting high, and it draws my eye to what I been hungering for.
“Mercy,” I mutter. “Your breasts…”
I reach for the ties of her robe, waiting for her to stop me. She don’t. She just watches, breathing shallow.
I part the fabric, let it fall open. There’s the chemise underneath—thin cotton, stretched tight across her chest. Her nipples press through the fabric, dark and soft and aching to be touched.
I bring my hands to her waist, trail my thumbs up her sides, feeling the newness of her curves. She ain’t just changed—she’s bloomed.
“You looked in the mirror lately?” I whisper, leaning close. “Seen what you’ve become?”
“A house,” she says flatly, defeated.
“Don’t you dare. You’re a vision,” I say. “Made to be worshipped.”
She sways toward me. I slip one hand higher, cupping the underside of her breast through the chemise. “Lord above,” I murmur, brushing my thumbs across her nipples through the thin cloth. They pebble tight, sensitive as ever.
That makes something primal twist low in my gut, my rigid length straining against my trousers. I drop my head, press a kiss just above the neckline, then another lower, tongue darting out to taste her through the fabric, and she makes a broken little sound in the back of her throat.
I pull the chemise down, letting it slip off one shoulder, then the other. Her breasts spill free, perfect and heavy. “Look at you,” I breathe. “Goddamn, sweetheart.”
Her hands find my hair as I lean in, kissing the underside of one breast, then the other, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. I suckle gentle at first, and her head tilts back, mouth falling open, a soft cry spilling out.
Every time I draw her in deeper, her fingers tighten. Her knees start to tremble, and I wrap one arm around her waist to keep her steady. The gold light catches on her skin, her breasts full and flushed, nipples wet from my mouth.
“Mm,” I hum low against her, feeling her tight flesh rigid on my tongue. “You’re achin’ here, ain’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispers, voice raw.
“Bet it’s been throbbin’ all day, beggin’ for my mouth.”
She cries out, high and breathy, her hips shifting like she needs something more. I keep her right there—floating in it.
“Bet I could make you come just from this. Just from suckin’ your pretty tits and whisperin’ how perfect you are.”
She lets out a broken sob, her head falling forward, hair spilling over her shoulder.
I shift my hold, supporting her ripe middle with one hand while the other keeps its rhythm—rubbing, circling, pressing—until her body starts to quiver again, legs a little unsteady, but I’ve got her.
“Come on now, sweetheart,” I murmur, straightening up slow. “Let me get you comfortable.”
One arm under her belly, the other cradling her back as I guide her upstairs to the bed. She sinks down onto the edge with a soft sigh.
“Lift your arms for me.”
She does, breath hitching as I take my time, pulling her chemise up over the curve of her, over her breasts, over her head.
I drop it to the floor. She’s flushed and breathless, bare as the day she was born, and so damn beautiful it near levels me.
I ease her back against the pillows, arranging them just so, supporting that precious swell of her.
“Christ almighty, you’re a goddess.”
She snorts—a quick, embarrassed little puff of disbelief.
My gaze sharpens. “Now what in God’s name was that?”
Her cheeks go red. “You’re just being nice.”
I cup her chin, lifting her face to meet mine. “Don’t you dare discount what you are.”
She tries to look away, but I tilt her chin back. “You’re gonna take the compliment like a good girl. Understood?”
Her eyes soften, and she nods. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s better. Now spread your legs and let me worship you proper.”
She does, breath catching as I settle on my knees between her thighs. Her bump rounds soft and high, and just beneath it—rosy and glistening.
“You’re beautiful like this,” I rasp, thumb parting her gently.
She whimpers, eyes fluttering shut. I dip down, mouth pressing to her inner thigh, then the crease beside it, working my way up slow. I lick her open, tongue wide and slow, dragging from her entrance up to her bundle of nerves.
She gasps, sharp and sweet.
“God, Kodiak.”
I groan into her, sucking her soft, then harder.
She bucks beneath me, hands fisted in the sheets.
I slide one hand beneath her, holding her still while I feast on her, letting her ride the rhythm.
Every sound she makes just spurs me on. She’s squirming, whispering my name.
And all the while, I talk to her, full of hunger.
“God, I could spend all damn day here,” I murmur, vibrating against her skin.
“Lickin’ every part of you.” Lick, long and teasing, tracing the length of her.
“Watchin’ you lose your damn mind from my mouth.
” Suck, pulling her bud between my lips, gentle at first, then harder, feeling her pulse against me.
I pull back just enough to speak, my breath hot against her slick skin. “Goddamn, you taste so good,” I growl, my voice muffled against her. I flick my tongue, light and teasing, then press harder, flattening it against her, letting her grind against the pressure.
“Kodiak,” she chokes out, her voice trembling.
I can tell she’s teetering on the edge. I don’t let up, keeping my pace relentless, dragging out the pleasure until she’s gasping, her body tensing.
When she finally breaks, it’s like a dam bursting—her cry is sharp, raw, her body convulsing as she comes undone on my tongue.
I don’t stop, lapping at her gently, guiding her through the aftershocks.
Only when her breathing slows, her body sinking into the sheets, do I ease up, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs, her hips, her stomach.
I crawl up her body, hovering over her, my lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. She moans into my mouth, tasting herself, her hands weak but clinging to my shoulders. “You’re a wicked man,” she whispers, a shaky laugh in her voice.
“Damn right I am.” I grin, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And we’re just getting started.”
Her hands tighten in the sheets, knuckles white, and I grin against her, diving back into our kiss, letting my tongue dance with hers. I pull back from the kiss, her taste lingering on my lips, and catch the way her eyes flicker with a mix of exhaustion and want.
“Ruin me,” she breathes, catching her breath, chest rising and falling. The way she’s looking at me—hungry, despite the way I just wrecked her—makes my blood run hotter. I smirk as I slide my hand down, letting my trousers down, gripping myself.
“Oh, I’ll ruin you, sweet.” I drag the tip against her damp and her hips shift.
She nods, a desperate little sound spilling from her lips, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with want. “Don’t be gentle.”
I chuckle. “Brace yourself, little lamb. I’ll be as rough as you please.”
I press just the tip inside, stretching her slow, and she gasps, her body tensing at the size of me.
I groan, easing out some, then back in, just an inch, teasing her with shallow thrusts.
Her moans turn crazed, her legs wrapping around my hips, trying to pull me deeper, but I keep it slow, torturing us both.
She flinches—small, sharp—and the swell of her goes tight as a drum.
“You all right?”
“Hard, Kodiak,” she whispers, guiding my hips.
“Easy,” I murmur, nipping at her jaw, my voice strained as I fight the urge to bury myself in her. I slide in a little further, then pull back, watching her face—her parted lips, her pink cheeks, the way her eyes flutter shut. “Gonna make you feel every damn bit of me first.”
Her hands claw at my back, nails digging as she tries to pull me deeper. But I’m in control, and she’s gonna feel every second of this. She whimpers, her hips tilting up, chasing, and I can’t help the growl that rumbles in my chest as I sink in to the hilt, feeling her clench around me.
“Bear,” she breathes, her voice breaking.