⋆˚✿˖° Bonus ⋆˚✿˖°
3 Months Later
The soft rustle of papers was the only sound in the home office.
Nate sat at his desk, reading over a case file and ignoring me for the past twenty minutes.
I was on the couch across from him, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and nothing else.
My belly curved perfectly under the fabric, the hem barely brushing my thighs.
I shifted deliberately, letting my legs part just a little more.
Still nothing.
I cocked my head, watching the way his jaw tensed as he read.
I watched how grey his eyes looked.
Were they always this grey and sexy?
I watched how his sleeves were rolled up and how his forearms flexed every time he scribbled something down.
I licked my lips. "I'm bored."
He didn't look up. "Watch something."
"No."
"Then sleep," he said, continuing with his work.
"No," I stood, slowly letting my movement emphasize the curve of my hips and stretch of my belly. "What I want is you."
He finally looked up, his eyes slowly checking me out.
"Naomi..." his voice was low and warning.
"You haven't touched me in months, Nate," I said, ignoring how arousal I'd become just by watching him sit and work.
He sighed. "Naomi."
"Nate."
"We can't," he made it clear and I rolled my eyes.
"The baby isn't going to fall out of me because you fucked me on a desk."
He had convinced himself that us having sex would hurt the baby.
I began to walk over to him.
"I'm tired of fingering myself," I told him.
"Don't act like you don't jack off to me in the mornings inside the shower," I outed him and he sighed as he looked away.
I stood between his legs, one hand resting on my belly, the other sliding onto his shoulder.
"Do you even know how badly I miss feeling you lose control?"
He clenched his jaw, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "You're supposed to be on bed rest."
I climbed into his lap and straddled him on his office chair.
My belly pressed lightly against his chest.
"Just a quick fuck," I tried to convince him. "Just to ease some tension out of your very pregnant and aching wife."
"Baby Carter will be just fine," I pushed.
His hands hovered over my hips like he didn't trust himself to touch me and he was still avoiding eye contact.
I began to roll my hips slowly, grinding down on the hard outline of his pants.
The friction against my bare pussy was the best I've felt in months.
"Don't you miss this?" I asked, pressing down harder. "Is moaning my name in the shower every morning better than this?"
He groaned, his head falling back against the chair as he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
"Do you think it's easy for me to hear you everyday and not get to feel you?" I asked frustrated that he won't fuck me.
"You've caused this problem, so fix it," I demanded.
"Naomi, you're really making this hard for me," he muttered as he grew underneath me.
"That's the point, isn't it?" I asked, speeding up when I felt a flutter in my stomach.
"Nae..." he murmured. "Please."
I reached down, wrapping my finger around the waistband of his pants.
"Stop begging and fuck me," I said, but he kept his eyes closed.
"Okay," I said before my hands slid to the hem of my shirt and slowly lifted it over my head.
The swell of my breasts, heavier from pregnancy, spilled into view, and my belly sat beautifully between them.
When I began to roll fasted against him, he opened his eyes and his lips parted almost immediately.
Part of his whole thing was not to see me naked.
But now I was fully bare on his lap, warm, wet, and grinding hard against him.
I felt him twitch under me before he glared at me.
"Stop!" He said. "I'm not going to fuck you."
I froze. "Why not?"
His jaw clenched.
He looked everywhere but at me.
At my breasts, my belly, my eyes like if he didn't make contact, he wouldn't break.
"Because I don't want to hurt you," he muttered. "Or the baby."
I stared at him, stunned.
"You think this hurts me?" I asked, leaning in close, our lips nearly touching.
"You ignoring me like I'm untouchable? Like I'm not still your wife?"
His breath hitched.
"You haven't even touched me in months, Nate." My voice cracked, just a little. "I need you. Not just your dick. You."
He swallowed hard, and I felt him twitch again beneath me.
"I said no, Naomi."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Maybe because I'd been so sure, no, so certain that he missed me too.
That he wanted me just as badly.
But now he looked at me like I was fragile.
Like I was some overly horny pregnant woman.
Like I wasn't... desirable.
I blinked fast, my throat tightening.
My hands slowly dropped from his chest.
"Got it," I said, climbing off his lap.
I grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping it back on with my shaky hands.
He didn't stop me.
I quickly rushed out the office before the tears could push their way out.
I didn't even know where I was heading.
All I knew was that I felt hurt and unwanted.
I somehow ended up in the closet.
The walk-in was dim, lit only by the light sensor light above the racks of his suits and pressed shirts.
The air was cooler in here, but everything smelled like him.
His stupid cologne.
The faint scent of his laundry detergent.
I dropped onto the padded bench at the back and curled forward slightly, his shirt barely covering my thighs, my hand resting over the stretch of my belly.
I hated how ridiculous I felt. How rejected.
Like I'd offered everything and he still couldn't look at me the way he used to.
I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest.
And that was when I heard his footsteps.
Slow and heavy.
He didn't say anything at first.
All he did was stand at the doorway, watching me in that too-quiet way he always did when he wasn't sure if he should touch me or run from me.
His voice was low, rough, and guilty.
"You're sitting in my closet, baby."
I didn't look at him. "It's the only place in this house where I still feel wanted."
He clenched his jaw. "That's not true."
I looked at him angrily. "Isn't it?"
"It's not," he glared at me.
"Then fuck me!" I demanded as I shot up, the hem of the shirt falling uneven and exposing my thighs.
He stepped closer to me.
"You think I want this?" He asked angrily. "You think it hasn't been killing me not to touch you?"
"You think I like constantly walking around with a hard on everyday for the past couple of months?" He cursed, getting closer.
"You think I think I like waking up every morning from dreams of me fucking you in every position known to man kind?"
We were toe to toe, his body almost trembling with restraint while mine just ached for him.
"Then stop pretending you're doing this for me," I snapped. "You're doing this because you're scared."
"You'd rather starve than risk breaking me."
His eyes dropped to my belly. "I'm doing this because of I love you. The both of you."
I wish I could murder him right now.
I reached for his hand and pressed it between my legs, right where I was wet and throbbing for him.
"If you love me, you would fix this."
My pussy throbbed the most it's ever throbbed against his hand and his control soon vanished.
His hands gripped my hips causing me to gasp right away.
Before I could catch my breath, he slammed me hard against the full-length mirror lining the closet wall.
"Are-are you okay?" He asked, shocked from the impact.
The glass was cold against my back, but his hands were scorching as they pinned me in place.
"Just fuck me already, Nate," I muttered, just needing some relief.
"Be careful what you wish for," he warned before his mouth roughly crashed against mine.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip as he groaned against my skin.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he snarled.
His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, grazing my swollen belly, then down to my thighs, gripping me so tight it stung.
I moaned, arching into him, feeling so hungry and reckless.
Without breaking the kiss, he pulled me closer, his hard length pressing into my core through his pants.
His hips slammed forward with brutal force, making me cry out, both from the impact and the raw need exploding inside me.
His hands roamed mercilessly.
One was gripping my hair, the other was tracing down my spine marking me like he owned every inch.
And at this moment, he did.
"Tell me you want me, Naomi," he growled, his breath hot against my ear.
"I want you," I gasped back, voice shaky but fierce.
"Say it again," he demanded, voice rougher, each word punctuated by a harder slam.
"I want you," I repeated, louder this time, surrendering to the chaos of desire consuming us both. "So please fuck me."
He paused as our eyes locked. "How do you want me?"
"From behind," I answered without hesitation. "I want to feel all of you."
Without another word, he grabbed my hips and spun me around until my chest slammed against the cool surface of the mirror.
My hands shot out instinctively, tightly gripping the mirror frame.
His hands slid up my spine, pushing down gently but firmly until I arched for him.
"Stay like that," was all he said before he tore at his belt and shoved his pants and briefs down just enough to free his rock hard cock.
"This is what you wanted?" He asked, one hand gripping my hip while the other guided himself to my entrance. "You begging for me to break you open?"
"Yes," I panted without shame, pressing my ass back against his cock. "I need it. I need you."
He drove into me in one brutal, perfect thrust.
My cry hit the glass just as my body rocked forward from the impact, his hips slamming into mine with force that rattled the mirror behind me.
I gripped onto the frame tighter.
The mirror shook with every thrust, reflections blurring and multiplying us.
He fucked me harder, faster, like he was making up for every moment lost and I absolute loved it.
His grip on my hips was bruising, holding me in place as his cock slammed into me again and again, so deep I could feel him in my throat.
My moans turned into cries, sharp and breathless, echoing off the closet walls.
"You feel that?" he growled, panting against my neck. "That's all of me. Every inch. Right where I belong."
I nodded, barely able to speak, the words torn apart by every thrust. "Yes-yes-, Nate-don't stop-"
"I'm not."
His hand slid up to my throat, holding, not choking, just grounding me as his other hand slid beneath my belly to support the weight of it, never easing his pace.
"You're so fucking perfect," he muttered, kissing the back of my neck, his voice raw.
"Carrying our baby, still taking me like this... fuck, Naomi..."
The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, our rhythm violent and beautiful.
The mirror fogged up in front of me, my reflection smeared with heat and swollen lips.
My body trembled, overwhelmed with sensation, so full I thought I might come apart at the seams.
And then it hit me.
The orgasm tore through me like lightning, sharp and fast, my entire body locking around him as I screamed his name into the glass.
"Nate!"
He cursed, his rhythm faltering for the first time.
"Fuck-Naomi-"
He slammed into me one final time and came with a low, broken groan, burying himself deep as his release filled me, his hands still clutching me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.
We stayed like that for a moment.
The both of us breathless, slick with sweat, bodies still trembling.
Then he kissed the back of my neck again, softer this time.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For waiting so long. For not touching you when you needed me."
I turned slightly, just enough to glance at him over my shoulder.
"Then don't ever stop touching me again."
He nodded, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you more."