Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Leif
After the Big Game . . . There’s a Bigger Game to Play
The second we step into the penthouse, I’m done waiting.
I barely get the door shut before I’m on her.
My hands slide under her hoodie, pushing it up, feeling the heat of her bare skin beneath my palms. I need her. I needed her the second I saw her in the stands, the second she stood on her seat and screamed for me, the second she pressed a hand to her belly and let me know she was watching me. Rooting for me. Loving me.
And now?
Now I get to have her.
I back her into the wall, my breath ragged, my body still humming from the adrenaline of the game. She’s looking up at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and fuck if that isn’t the best sight in the world.
I brace a hand beside her head, dragging my knuckles down her cheek, then lower, tracing the slope of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter under my fingertips.
“You were loud tonight,” I murmur, my voice still rough from shouting on the ice.
She blinks up at me, smirking. “You were good tonight.”
I shake my head. “No, baby. You were loud.” My thumb brushes her bottom lip. “Standing on your damn seat, screaming about how I’m yours. Got me all worked up before I even stepped off the ice.”
She shifts against me, her belly pressing into my abs, her body soft and warm and so fucking perfect against mine.
I drag my mouth over her jaw, nipping, teasing, feeling her squirm. “You got any idea what that does to me? Seeing you in the crowd, screaming for me like that?”
Her breath hitches.
I slide my hands down to her hips, gripping tight.
“I get hard just thinking about it,” I murmur against her ear. “Thinking about how wet it makes you, watching me like that.”
She shivers, her nails curling into my shoulders.
“I—I might’ve been a little . . .” she trails off, voice shaky.
I smirk. “Turned on?”
She lets out a frustrated, embarrassed groan and buries her face in my chest.
I chuckle, kissing the top of her head, then gripping her chin and tilting her back up to me. “Don’t get shy on me now, Hailey Bean.”
Her eyes darken, her fingers curling into my hoodie, tugging me closer. “You gonna do something about it, Crawford, or are you just gonna talk all night?”
My entire body locks up. She’s a fucking tease, and I should punish her—edge her, make her beg, not let her come until tomorrow. But not tonight. Tonight, I need her too much. I need her milking my cock, filling her, marking her with my cum.
So, I move. I scoop her into my arms, ignoring her startled squeak, and start toward the bathroom. “Shower,” I tell her. “Then I’ll take care of you.”
She narrows her eyes, but there’s no real fight behind it. “I’m not that fragile, you know.”
I smirk, nudging the bathroom door open with my foot. “Baby, you’re thirty-two weeks pregnant. If I don’t take care of you, I might lose my fucking mind worrying about our little one.”
I set her down carefully, letting my hands linger on her hips before I reach past her to turn on the water. Steam billows up immediately, curling around us, wrapping us in warmth.
She watches me as I peel off my suit, leaving me with nothing on. Her gaze locks onto my abs, the ridges still slick from the game, from the hours of work I put in tonight.
Her tongue darts out, licking her lips.
And I catch it.
“Like what you see?” I ask, voice low.
She doesn’t answer. Just steps forward, drags her hands down my chest, over my stomach, tracing every muscle with her fingertips. My jaw clenches.
“Hailey,” I warn.
She grins. A little evil. A little too smug.
“You’re sweaty,” she murmurs. “Good thing we’re about to shower.”
I exhale sharply, my hands coming up to grab hers, stilling her movements before she makes me lose control too fast.
Then, in one swift motion, I strip her, letting almost all her clothes drop to the floor, leaving her in just a pair of lace panties that barely cover her for a few seconds longer. Just to admire her before I leave her completely naked.
Fuck.
She’s always beautiful. Always. But right now?
With her breasts full and heavy, her stomach round with our daughter, her body soft and flushed from the heat?
She’s a fucking masterpiece. I groan, sliding my hands over her belly, over her curves, tracing every inch of her.
“You are so goddamn perfect,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her shoulder, feeling her shudder.
She exhales sharply, her hands curling around my wrists. “Leif?—”
I grip her ass, hauling her against me, making sure she feels exactly what she does to me.
“I need you,” I murmur, desperate, my lips dragging down her neck, over her collarbone. “Need to feel you around me. Need to make you come so hard you forget how to stand.”
She moans, soft and needy, and I feel it everywhere.
I slide my hands down, lifting her off the ground, pressing her back against the warm tile as the water cascades over us.
“Hold onto me,” I order.
She does.
Her fingers grip my shoulders, her legs wrapping around my waist, locking me in, exactly where I belong.
And then—I give in.
I kiss her deep and filthy, sliding my tongue against hers, claiming her completely. She moans into my mouth, her hips grinding against me, her nails scraping down my back, pulling me deeper, pulling me closer.
“You want my cock, baby?” I murmur, dragging my mouth down her throat, sucking a mark just above her pulse.
She nods frantically, panting against my skin. “Yes, I need it.”
“Tell me,” I growl. “Tell me how bad you need it.”
Her body shakes, her fingers fisting in my wet hair. “Leif, please?—”
I line myself up, teasing her, dragging the thick head of my cock through her soaked folds, making her fucking beg.
“Say it,” I order, my voice dark. Possessive.
She groans, frustrated, desperate. “I need you to fuck me, Leif. Need you to fill me up. Please?—”
I thrust into her in one slow, deep stroke. She gasps, her entire body clenching around me, taking me deep, taking me whole.
Jesus Christ, she’s tight. I brace my hands on either side of her, holding her steady, holding her exactly where I need her.
“You take me so fucking well,” I growl against her neck. “Always so perfect for me, baby.”
She moans, hips rolling, chasing more. I grin, pulling back, then thrusting in harder. Deeper. She cries out, nails raking over my shoulders, and fuck if that isn’t the sexiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
I set a rhythm—slow, deep, relentless. Not just fucking.
Claiming.
Owning.
Loving.
She’s mine. My perfect woman. The love of my life.
Her body clenches around me, hot and slick, pulling me in deeper with every deliberate thrust. I can feel the tremors rippling through her, the way her breath stutters against my skin, the desperate little whimpers slipping from her lips.
“You feel that, baby?” I rasp, pressing my forehead to hers, my hands steady on her hips, anchoring her to me. “The way you take me? How perfect you are?”
She nods, a soft gasp breaking free as I shift, angling deeper, hitting that spot that makes her whole body tremble.
“Oh, God—Leif.”
My name on her lips is everything. I slide a hand down, fingers finding her swollen, sensitive center, circling in slow, teasing strokes. Her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in, a sharp contrast to the hot spray of water cascading over our bodies.
She’s close—I can feel it in the way she tightens around me, in the desperate way she moves against me, chasing the high she needs.
I press her against the shower wall, one hand sliding down to cradle the swell of her belly, feeling the life we made together. My perfect woman, carrying our child, taking me so well.
“You were made for this,” I rasp, my voice rough with possession, with reverence. “Made to take me. To carry my babies. Look at you, so fucking perfect.”
She moans, still shuddering from her release, her body warm and pliant beneath my touch. But I’m not done—not until I’m so deep inside her she won’t forget who she belongs to. Who she’s meant to have inside her.
I thrust deeper, grinding against her, feeling the tight, slick heat of her clench around me. She whimpers, nails scraping over my shoulders, dragging me closer. “Leif, please?—”
She cries out, body going taut, shattering apart as pleasure overtakes her. Her head falls back against the tile, lips parted, breathless as wave after wave rolls through her. I hold her through it, never stopping, never slowing, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from her before finally letting myself go, following her into bliss.
I groan, burying my face against her neck as I push in harder, filling her completely. The idea of giving her more—of planting myself even deeper inside her—makes my control slip.
“You want it?” I growl, my hand sliding down to cup her belly again. “Want me to fill you up even more?”
She nods frantically, lips parting on a gasp. “Yes—God, yes.”
That’s all it takes. My grip tightens, holding her steady as I sink into her one last time, pressing so deep it feels like I’m a part of her, like I’ll never leave. The thought of her body taking me, holding me inside, sends me spiraling, pleasure ripping through me like a live wire.
I groan against her skin, her name spilling from my lips as I give her everything—every drop, every ounce of me. I stay there, holding her against me, feeling her heartbeat against mine. The water keeps running, washing away the heat, but I don’t let go. I never will.
Mine.
I stay there, panting, forehead against hers, hands smoothing over her belly, her hips, her thighs. Marking her. Worshipping her.
She sighs, boneless, sated, wrapped around me like she never wants to let go. And, fuck, I hope she never does.