Page 72 of After-Hours Heir

Primal. Perfect. And when he claimed her she cried out, the sensation of him filling her, taking her, everything she needed. Everything she wanted.

This was family. Their connection. And yet it was more than that. But there were no words typed or spoken that could give more to this moment than him being inside her could.

“Christos. Baby.” She said both names. Because she knew who he was. She knew he was hers.

He thrust deep within her, and she gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She wrapped her legs around his lean hips and tried to keep tempo with his movements.

And when they both reached their peak they fell together, shattering, and clinging to one another in the aftermath.

She wanted to freeze time. To stop here.

Because right now, they were happy. Right now, she had him.

She trusted him. But the world was a terrible place, and it had left him with terrible scars.

And she worried about what the future might hold. So she just wanted it all to stop. Because right now, everything was perfect.

But she knew that time would march on.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THEWEATHERBEGANto turn hot, and it was mere weeks before her due date, summer in the sweltering city. She was starting to feel ungainly. Unattractive, even though Christos seemed to find her beautiful no matter what.

And she realized something abruptly as she got into the elevator that would take her home after a long day at work. She didn’t feel insecure anymore. Not about her value, not about her looks.

That conversation with her mother had changed so many things.

The realization that she just wasn’t what her mother wanted. And that she didn’t want to be.

Coupled with the way Christos treated her: like she was special.

He treated her like everything she did was amazing.

She supposed it wasn’t really fair. Because in many ways he was like a child. It didn’t take a lot to amaze him. It made her feel guilty, actually. Because the act of making him dinner was like handing him gold for his hoard. He didn’t say anything, but the fire always burned in his dark eyes. She started to realize how little had ever been done for him.

Basic care seemed to be his love language because he had been denied so much.

They didn’t talk about feelings, but she could see them, burning brightly inside of him.

He was home when she arrived. In the kitchen, wearing an apron.

“Christos,” she said. “Are you cooking?”

“Yes. Chili dogs, so I hope that it is okay with you.”

Her stomach growled. “Yes. It is. That actually sounds amazing. Of course, I’ll be hungry again an hour later, but then I get to choose something else to eat. It’s a win-win.”

They ate dinner, and then, he drew her a bath. Not too warm, but just enough. She sank down into the water, and he reached down and lifted up her foot, massaging the sore spots, working her swollen ankles.

She groaned. “I’m really not the woman you married.”

“But you are,” he said. “Do you know, it’s such an interesting thing, because I was fascinated with you starting…maybe five years ago. That was probably when I began to notice you. You were always so opinionated.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you noticed me at all,” she said, the wind pushed out of her lungs.

“I did. I told you that.”

“Yes. You told me about your very crude sexual fantasy. But I didn’t think—”