Page 267 of Show Me

I wake to the pale light of the bathroom hitting the edge of the bed and the soft sound of rain against the window. For a moment I don’t move, afraid to disturb the miracle of Ruby in my arms, her back pressed to my chest, her hair tangled across my pillow.

My pillow. On her bed. The thought hits me with enough force to steal my breath. This is real. This is permanent. I didn’t lose her.

I lie still, memorizing the rise and fall of her breathing, the way her hand rests over mine where it curves around her waist. The way her body fits against mine like she was made to be there. The faint scent of her shampoo mixed with sweat and sex and something that is just… her.

She stirs, pressing back against me, and my body responds. Aching. I want her. I always want her. But she’s been through so much. Too much. Too much stress. Anxiety. Sadness. Overwhelm. Her health and our baby’s health are the only things that matter. My needs mean nothing in comparison.

“You’re awake,” she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep.

“Been awake for a while.” I kiss her shoulder, the curve of her neck. “Just enjoying the view.”

She turns in my arms to face me, and the light catches her face. No makeup. Hair wild. Eyes soft with sleep and something that looks dangerously like trust.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey.” I brush hair back from her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. “How’re you feeling?”

She stretches, arching against me, and I bite back a groan. “Good. Sore. But good.”

The word hangs between us. Sore. Because of me. Because of what we did. Because she let me touch her, taste her, bring her apart with my mouth and my hands, watching her fall apart. Again. And again.

I kiss her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. “I should let you sleep more.”

“Don’t you dare.” She catches my wrist, her fingers wrapping around mine. “Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I turn her hand to kiss her palm. “I promise.”

She studies me for a long moment. Then she reaches down between us, her hand finding me through the thin fabric of my boxer briefs, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Ruby-”

“I want you,” she says. “Inside me. Now.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I search her face, searching for hesitation, for doubt, for any sign that she’s doing this for me rather than for herself. I don’t find it. Just want. Just trust. Just love looking back at me.

“Are you sure?” My voice comes out rough, barely controlled. “After last night, I thought maybe you'd want to wait–”

“I don’t want to wait.” She squeezes me, and I groan, my hips bucking into her touch. “I want to feel you. All of you. No barriers. Nothing between us.”

I understand what she’s asking, what she’s offering. No condom. Just us. Skin to skin. The way it should have been from the beginning, before fear and rules and self-protection got in the way.

“Ruby.” I close my eyes, trying to hold onto some thread of control. “If we do this... if I come inside you...”

“I know.” She kisses my jaw, my throat, working her way down my chest. “I want it. I want you to.”

The trust in her voice breaks me. It doesn’t matter that she’s already pregnant, this is our first time without a barrier. After everything I put her through, she trusts me with this. With her body. With our future. With the family we're building together.

I roll her onto her back, settling between her thighs, and she opens for me willingly, her legs wrapping around my hips. I brace myself above her on one elbow, my free hand tracing down her body, over the slight curve of her stomach where our baby grows, down to where she’s already wet and ready for me.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” I whisper against her mouth. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“You won’t.” She arches into my touch. “I trust you.”

Three words. That’s all it takes. I position myself at her entrance, feeling her heat against my bare skin, and push inside. Inch by inch. Giving her time to adjust. Watching her face for any sign of discomfort.

She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, and I stop. “Too much?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her eyes fluttering closed. “God, no. You feel... You feel incredible.”

I bury my face in her neck, breathing deep, fighting for control. She feels like heaven. Hot and tight and perfect around me, and the fact that there’s nothing between us, that I feel every pulse of her, every flutter of her muscles, is almost too much.