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“No, I want you in our bed,” he said. Calling his bed, their bed gave him butterflies. Every time she crawled into bed next to him, he felt like a horny teenage boy all over again.
“I need you naked,” she whispered in his ear, and he nearly came in his damn pants. “You keep talking to me like that, this will be over before it even starts.” Yonkers carefully laid her across his bed and made quick work of stripping her. “God, your gorgeous,” he whispered, looking her over.
“What are you going to do with me, Chris?” she asked, smiling up at him. He had so many thoughts of what he wanted to do with her, but there was no way that he’d let her off that easy.
“This,” he breathed, kissing his way down her body. Yonkers settled between her legs and flashed his smile at her. “And then, I’m going to do this.” He licked through her wet folds, loving the way that Wren moaned his name and writhed underneath his body.
“That feels so good. It’s been so long,” she moaned.
Yonkers stilled between her legs. He knew that asking her the question that had popped into his head might not end well for him, but he had to know. “Tell me that you haven’t been with anyone since me, honey,” he begged.
“I haven’t been with anyone else since our night together, Chris,” she said, reaching down to run her fingers through his unruly, dark hair.
“I haven’t been with anyone either since our night together, Wren,” he said. It was true too. He didn’t want any other woman, just her. He’d go into the club and have a few beers while the women asked him to dance or even some who boldly asked him to take them home, but he refused every one of them. He wanted Wren, and denying himself of her was killing him.
He dipped his head and licked her wet pussy and this time, he didn’t stop. This time, he let her shamelessly ride his face until she found her release, crying out his name. God, she was beautiful when she looked at him after having an orgasm. It was the same way that she looked at him on Christmas night after he fucked her over his kitchen table. He wanted her then, and he still wanted her now, God help him.
Yonkers stripped and got on the bed, pulling her up his body, and when she fully seated herself on his cock, he let out the moan that he didn’t know he was holding in. She felt like heaven, and he was sure that he’d never be able to walk away from her again. It damn near killed him doing so the first time. Wren didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to him now, not that he’d tell her that. She wasn’t ready to hear that from him yet—but someday, she might be. He would just need to be patient with her and wait her out.
Wren
“Are you okay, Wren?” Yonkers asked. She had completely seated herself on his erection and froze. She felt so full with the pregnancy, it was a new sensation.
“I’m good,” she whispered. "I can’t decide if I want to move or not,” she admitted. “I feel so full, it’s just different than the first time.” Of course, the first time he took her body over his kitchen table, him on top and her being pressed into the wood. God, it was perfect. Yonkers took want he needed from her and gave her so much more in return, and this time was no different.
“You take your time,” he said. She looked down at him and almost wanted to giggle at how pained he looked. She could tell that her not moving was stressing him out.
“I’m okay,” she admitted. She rolled her hips and he moaned again. She loved it when he made that noise. It always turned her completely inside out with need.
Yonkers ran his hands over her sensitive breasts as she rode him without abandon. “I need more,” she whimpered. “I’m so close.” Wren pulled free from his cock and Yonker’s groaned his protest.
“What are you doing?” he asked as she practically stood on the bed and turned around.
“I’m going to go full-on cowgirl,” she breathed. She turned around, giving Yonkers a view of her ass as she mounted him again. And this time, when she leaned forward, bracing herself on his thighs, she didn’t need time to start moving. She rode him and when Yonkers inserted his thumb into her ass, she nearly bucked off the bed.
“You okay with me doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.
“More than okay,” she breathed. God, it felt good the way that he worked his thumb in and out of her ass. She had always dreamed of him taking her there.
“Would you like me to fuck your ass, honey?” he asked as if reading her mind.
“Yes,” she moaned. Wren was so close to finding her release, she couldn’t stop now. “Please, Chris,” she begged, “I’m so close.”
“When you go, I go,” he growled, pressing his thumb deeper into her virgin hole. “And once I train this ass of yours to take all of me, I’m going to fuck you here,” he said. Hearing him say that to her was all she needed. She found her release, shouting his name, and he was true to his word, following her over as she rode him to completion. Wren collapsed on top of him, not really caring that she was sprawled out in front of him with her ass in the air. She was too wrung out to care.
“That was perfect,” she whispered. Yonkers pulled free from her and slipped from underneath her body. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m getting a washrag to clean you up, baby,” he said. “You stay right there, just like that,” he said, smiling down at her. She tried to give him a lazy smile back, but judging from the way that he was laughing on his way to the bathroom, she had failed.
He came back and cleaned her up and Wren loved the way that he looked her body over as he did. “We have about an hour until we have to meet your mother,” she whispered, pulling him in for a kiss. “I say we do all of that again.”
“Well, who am I to argue with a pregnant woman?” he teased, pulling her into his body. Wren was sure that she was going to like the whole sharing a bed thing. Being with Yonkers felt right, not that she was about to tell him that. No, she’d wait for the right time to spring her feelings on him because a man like Yonkers needed time to get used to an idea—lots of time.
They picked up Yonker’s mother and got her to her chemotherapy a few minutes late. When she asked Yonkers why he was so late, he fibbed and told her that they lost time while unpacking, but from the way that his mom looked at him, she knew that he was lying.
“Well, if you don’t want to tell me, then just don’t tell me, Christopher,” his mother chided. “You don’t have to come up with a fib though.”
“Mother, I don’t fib. I’m a grown-ass man. I lie now,” he said.
