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“Carlo,” I gasped when his mouth landed on my heat. I was already wet when he started teasing my clit. “Yes,” I murmured, letting my hands drift down and hold his head to me.
His fingers played at my entrance, but didn’t venture in. Until I begged, “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”
He obliged and very carefully slid one finger inside me. Immediately, I felt my walls tighten around him. Desperate for anything he gave to me.
It had been so long since I’d had an orgasm. I couldn’t even remember when the last time I came was.
But I knew I was about to explode in a matter of seconds. There was no hope in me holding off.
“Carlo, I’m going to come,” I breathed out, my voice barely audible. I wondered if he’d even heard me.
It didn’t matter, though.
He was about to find out.
I put my hands over my mouth and yelled out my orgasm. I wasn’t sure how loud I was, but I tried to muffle my cries.
I was not in control. I let my orgasm roll through me. Waves and waves of pleasure overtook my body, and I was powerless to stop it.
Not that I would, even if wanted to.
Carlo kept working me, giving me everything I needed.
Just like he always did.
When I finally came down, my limbs limp and weightless—Carlo rose up, covering me with his body.
I felt his huge, hard length on my stomach. And I knew exactly where he wanted to be.
Right where I wanted him to be.
My hand found him, and I stroked his impossible length. The thought of him being inside of me again, equally scared—and excited me.
I guided him to my entrance and moved his hot, angry head around in my wetness.
He started to enter me, slowly.
I relaxed and breathed through it, hoping like heck I could do this.
When he was halfway in—my body froze. “Carlo, you need a condom. I’m not on birth control,” I whispered to him.
I didn’t expect him to burst into laughter at my request.
I looked up at him. “What’s so funny?” I asked, clueless as to what he thought was so funny.
His lips touched mine, and his smile melted my heart. “Do you honestly think,” he kissed me, letting his tongue touch mine. It made my lower belly do a wonderful flip, “that you give me,” his head jerked toward the very quiet crib, “a baby like him.”
This time, his mouth covered mine in a deeper, more delicious kiss. “A son, like him.” Carlo’s hand slid up and covered my breast. “Do you really think that after you give me a fucking gift like him?” His hand gently squeezed my breast. “That I’ll do one goddamn thing to prevent making another one—just like him?”
My eyes began to tear up, and I couldn’t stop them from overflowing. “You love him,” I whispered as my voice caught in my throat. Carlo loved our son. He was grateful for our son. And that knowledge made my heart sing.
“Love him?” Carlo’s voice rose a little louder. “You’re asking if I love our baby?” he asked in a gruff tone that slid all over me. When I realized his eyes were wet—no. More than wet.
Oh, gosh.
I couldn’t handle that. The tears streamed from my eyes like someone had just opened a faucet.
“Of course, I love our son. I loved him the second I saw your gorgeous, round belly. I can’t tell you how that made me feel, Giselle. Knowing you were carrying my baby. That we’d made a baby together, Giselle,” his lips touched mine, “you made my heart explode.”
