Chapter 25
Emma
Ireach up and kiss him again, and this time I make sure he knows what I’m looking for.
His hands grip my waist firmly as he pulls me against him. The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch—they're dark with desire and something deeper. Relief, maybe. Or desperation.
"God I missed you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. He lowers his head to my neck, pressing hot kisses along the sensitive skin there before capturing my mouth again.
I melt into him, my hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair. Every nerve ending in my body ignites at his touch. It's only been a week, but it feels like years since I've been in his arms like this.
"I missed you too," I whisper against his lips. "So much."
He walks me backward until my legs hit the couch, then guides me down onto the cushions, his body covering mine. The weight of him feels like coming home—familiar and thrilling at the same time. His hand slides beneath my sweater, warm against my skin, and I arch into his touch.
"Emma," he breathes my name. "Tell me I’m not imagining this. That you're really here."
"I'm here," I promise, framing his face between my hands. "I'm not going anywhere."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, more urgent. I respond with equal fervor, trying to pour everything I can't say into the kiss—my regret, my love, my promise to do better.
His hand moves to the swell of my stomach.
“How are my babies doing?” he says, a small smile on his lips.
“They missed their daddy,” I respond. “But not nearly as much as I did.”
He chuckles softly before pulling my sweater up and moving my bra over slightly so his lips find my nipple. He licks and sucks and I moan out loud.
The sensation sends waves of pleasure through my body. My nipples are so much more sensitive now that I'm pregnant, and Grant knows exactly how to touch me. His tongue circles the hardened peak while his hand gently caresses my other breast.
"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs against my skin. "So fucking beautiful."
I arch my back, wanting more of his mouth on me. His free hand slides down to cup my belly and the twins flutter inside me, as if responding to their father's touch.
"Did they just move?" Grant asks, lifting his head.
"Yes," I whisper. "They know you're here."
His eyes fill with emotion, and he presses a gentle kiss to my stomach before returning to my breast. This time, he's more insistent, sucking harder until I'm writhing beneath him.
"Grant," I pant, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Please."
He understands what I need. He always has. His hand moves lower, unbuttoning my jeans with practiced ease. I lift my hips to help him shimmy them off of my body.
His hands slide down my thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He kisses my stomach again before continuing his journey downward. My breath catches as his mouth presses against the cotton of my panties, his hot breath penetrating the thin fabric.
"Oh," I gasp, my hips lifting involuntarily toward his mouth.
He looks up at me as he continues kissing me through the fabric. The sensation is maddening—so close to what I need but not quite enough. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he teases me.
"Please," I whisper, threading my fingers through his hair. "I need more."
With deliberate slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulls them down my legs.
The cool leather of the couch hits my heated skin, making me shiver with anticipation.
Grant's eyes never leave mine as he settles between my thighs, his hands gently spreading my legs wider.
When his mouth finally makes contact with my center, I cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation. He starts slowly, his tongue making long, deliberate strokes that have me arching off the couch. My pleasure builds quickly, hot and insistent.
"I love how you taste," he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words sending another wave of pleasure through my body.
He draws his tongue in firm circles around my clit while his hands grip my thighs firmly. The sensation is exquisite—his warm mouth working me with perfect pressure. I'm already so close, my body responding to him as if we were never apart.
Then I feel it—his finger teasing my entrance, circling slowly before pushing inside. I gasp at the feel of it. He continues licking me as he pumps his finger in and out, building a rhythm that has me practically panting.
"More," I manage to whisper.
Grant obliges immediately, adding a second finger alongside the first. The stretch and fullness combined with his relentless tongue is overwhelming. His fingers curl upward, finding that spot inside me that he knows drives me wild.
"Oh god," I cry out, my hips bucking against his face. My hands tangle in his hair, holding him against me as the pressure builds. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I can feel myself tightening around him, my body climbing toward release.
"Grant, I'm going to—" I can't even finish the sentence before the orgasm crashes over me. Pleasure pulses through my body as I shatter beneath his touch. My thighs tremble and I cry out his name.
His tongue continues to relentlessly work against my sensitive flesh. The orgasm ripples outward, my body trembling as he prolongs the sensation with gentle, persistent strokes. My fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding him close as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
When I finally collapse back against the cushions, breathless and trembling, Grant slowly begins to move up my body.
He leaves a trail of kisses along the way—my inner thighs, the curve of my hip, the swell of my belly.
Each touch of his lips against my skin feels like worship, like he's memorizing every inch of me.
His mouth finds my breasts again, giving each tender attention before continuing his journey upward. When his lips finally claim mine, I taste myself on his tongue. I kiss him deeply, my hands framing his face, holding him to me as if he might disappear.
"I love you," I whisper against his mouth. "I will always love you. And I’m so sorry."
"Shh," he says, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. His gaze is intense, pupils dilated with desire. "You're here now. That's all that matters.”
I look into his eyes, so grateful that he’s willing to forgive me. “I need you inside me. Right this second.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, giving me that sexy smile I love so much.
I feel his cock pressing against my thigh as he shifts above me. He unfastens his pants and pushes them down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. I reach between us, wrapping my hand around his length, feeling him pulse beneath my touch.
Grant positions himself at my entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against my wetness. Our eyes lock as he pushes forward, slowly filling me inch by delicious inch. I gasp at the exquisite stretch, my body welcoming him home after our separation.
"Oh my god," he whispers, his voice strained with emotion and desire. He stays perfectly still for a moment, both of us savoring the connection.
Then he begins to move, establishing a gentle rhythm that feels so fucking good. Each thrust is deliberate and measured, his gaze never leaving mine. The intimacy of it—of being joined like this while looking into each other's eyes—brings tears to my eyes.
His pace remains unhurried, each stroke deep and thorough. One hand cradles my face while the other supports his weight, careful of my pregnant belly between us. The tenderness in his expression undoes me completely.
"You're everything to me, baby," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "Everything."
I wrap my legs around his waist, changing the angle slightly, and we both moan at the sensation.
The angle shift sends a jolt of pleasure so intense that I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. Grant speeds up his rhythm, his thrusts becoming deeper, more insistent. Each movement hits exactly where I need him.
"Right there," I breathe, feeling the tension building again. "Oh god, Grant, right there."
His breathing grows ragged, his movements more urgent as we both chase our release. The couch creaks beneath us, the leather sticking to my heated skin.
"Emma," he groans, and the raw need in his voice pushes me closer to the edge. "I can feel you tightening around me."
My second orgasm builds faster than the first, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter with each thrust. Grant slides his hand between us, his thumb finding my clit, circling it in time with his movements inside me. The dual sensation is overwhelming.
"I'm close," I gasp, my body arching beneath him. "I'm so close—"
The orgasm crashes through me, even more intense than the first. My inner walls clench around him rhythmically, and I feel him stiffen above me.
"Fuck," he groans, his hips jerking against mine as he follows me over the edge. I feel his release, hot and pulsing, filling me completely.
He moves to the side of me, so as to not squash my belly. Thank goodness the couch is super-deep and we both fit easily. He grabs a throw that drapes over the back of the couch and covers us both up.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen out here. Taking you to the bedroom would have made more sense. But I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally.”
We both laugh and I snuggle closer to him, resting my head against his chest.
"I have something to tell you," I say, tracing circles on his skin with my fingertips. "Something happened yesterday, and I'm still processing it."
Grant shifts slightly to look at me, his expression attentive. "What is it?"
"Samantha came to see me at my apartment."
His entire body goes rigid. "What? Samantha? At your place?"
I nod, watching his face transform from relaxation to complete shock.
"She showed up at my door yesterday afternoon while Poppy was there. She wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" He sounds genuinely bewildered. "For the restaurant? For what she said to you?"
"Yes, but it was more than that." I sit up slightly, pulling the throw blanket tighter around me. "She told me she had a fight with Victoria. A big one. Victoria apparently bragged to her about sabotaging my deal with Vance."
Grant's expression darkens. "She what?"
"Victoria was proud of it, Grant. Laughing about it. And Samantha was horrified." I take his hand, squeezing it gently. "She came to tell me that none of this was my fault. That she was wrong about me, about us."
He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. "Jesus. I can't believe she would do that. Samantha's always been so loyal to Victoria, even when—" He stops, shaking his head. "Even when Victoria was manipulating her."
"She was different. Vulnerable. She told me that she was sorry for how she treated me, that she knows now I wasn't using you for your money." I pause, remembering the raw honesty in Samantha's eyes.
"What's really amazing is that she defended you, Grant.
She told me that you're nothing like Victoria—that you offer help because you can't stand to see people you love struggle, not to control them.
" I shake my head, still unable to believe she actually came over and told me all that.
"She said I shouldn't give up on you because I was scared. That you're worth more than that."
Grant's eyes widen slightly, his expression softening. "She really said that?"
"She did. And it really made me think about what was actually happening between us.
" I take a deep breath. "I wasn't seeing things clearly.
My brain was just... spiraling with fear, connecting dots that weren't really there.
When Samantha talked about the difference between how Victoria uses money as a weapon and how you offer support—it helped me see it all differently. "
Grant pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "That means more than you know."
We lie together in comfortable silence for a moment, his heartbeat steady under my ear. The twins flutter again, and I guide his hand to my belly.
His eyes widen as he feels another flutter under his palm and he smiles. "That feeling will never get old," he says, his expression filled with awe.
I agree. "I never realized how cool it would feel. Like butterfly wings, but from the inside." I place my hand over his.
My stomach growls loudly, interrupting our moment.
"Was that you or the twins?" Grant laughs.
"Definitely me," I admit, feeling my cheeks warm. "I haven't eaten much today. I was too nervous about coming here."
"Well, we can't have that." Grant sits up, gently pulling me with him. "You need to eat. The babies need to eat."
"I'm starving," I confess, suddenly aware of the hollow feeling in my stomach. After days of barely touching food, my appetite has returned with a vengeance.
"Then let's get you fed." Grant stands and helps me to my feet, his hands lingering on my waist. "Marcello's?"
"Oh, yes." My mouth waters at the thought of our favorite Italian restaurant. "Their gnocchi sounds amazing right now."
We get dressed quickly, stealing glances and small touches as we put ourselves back together. Grant helps me with my sweater, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that makes me shiver despite having just been thoroughly satisfied.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst. For the first time in weeks, I can see the path forward for us—not perfect, but real. His fingers intertwine with mine, and I squeeze them gently, feeling the solid warmth of his palm against my own. This is what certainty feels like.