Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“That would have been nice to know before you knocked me up.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“It wasn’t exactly planned, was it?” I laugh. “I still don’t exactly know how we ended up in that position.”
“Oh really?” she asks, quirking her eyebrow. “It wasn’t your intention all along to seduce me?”
“Seduce you?” I chuckle again. “You basically attacked me!”
“That’s not how I remember it,” she shoots back. “It definitely felt like you enjoyed yourself a lot more than I did.”
“Is that why you were screaming my name so loud they could hear it in Brighton?” I counter.
She blushes, and a strange sense of camaraderie falls on us. We haven’t talked about this since it happened, and I didn’t think we ever would. Of course, I also never imagined we’d be discussing morning sickness. It feels kind of nice.
“I hope we have a little boy,” she says cautiously, like she’s too afraid to even wish it out loud.
Her free hand moves down to her stomach and she looks down, like she can see something there that I can’t.
“Me too,” I agree. “The idea of having a daughter terrifies me.”
She looks up in surprise. “Really?” she asks. “Why is that?”
“Because I’ll always be more protective of her. She can never have a boyfriend, and if a boy should break her heart, he’s getting the full force of my Bratva.”
She laughs at this.
“I’m glad to see you’re going to continue the classic patriarchal bullshit,” she says with an eyeroll.
“Why do you want a boy?” I ask, challenging her argument.
“Because boys get respect in this world,” she says, and puts her finger up to stop me from arguing. “Which is just true. It’s not something that I have the power to change, but it would be a relief to not have to worry so much about his future.”
We sit for a moment in silence, and I really consider that. A future with her. One where we raise this child together. We’re barely on speaking terms most of the time, but I like the idea of our child having two active parents. I like the idea of her being mine.
“You’ll be a great mother,” I say tenderly. “Whether we have a son or a daughter, that’s not going to change.”
She squeezes my hand and it’s like I feel electricity moving through my body. My fingertips feel electrified where she’s holding them. The air between us similarly feels charged, and it’s like I’m magnetized to her. I move closer and she tilts her head, welcoming me.
The first kiss is sweet, almost chaste. It’s like a promise between two friends who know they’re about to share something profound. It takes only a moment for it to become hotter. Her tongue traces my mouth and I grant her entrance, letting her take the lead.
She’ll never be able to say she doesn’t want it this time. She’s fully in control of this situation.
I let go of her hand and run my fingers through her hair, anchoring her so I can kiss her more fully. She moans into my mouth, and I know then that I’m a goner. What is it about a kitchen table that gets us so in the mood?
I chuckle against her lips at the thought, but she grasps me tighter. I carefully wrap my other arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me.
“Is this okay?” I ask. “I mean, are you hurting at all?”
She shakes her head and grabs my shirt in her fists, deepening our kiss. It’s like she can’t get enough of me.
“Not here,” I whisper. “Not this time.”
“My bedroom is closer,” she murmurs against my lips.
Needing no more encouragement, I carefully pick her up, and she automatically wraps her legs around my waist. I can already feel the evidence of my desire growing. I can’t get us up the stairs fast enough. I also have to be mindful of her injury. I want this so much, but I don’t want to hurt her in any way.
By the time I reach the threshold of her bedroom, I’m too drunk off her kisses to pay much attention to anything. She is relentless and needy, panting and mewling with every movement.
“How do you want to do this?” I ask her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She lets go of me and I carefully set her down. She takes a step back and I worry for a moment that she’s changed her mind. But her eyes are dark and heavy-lidded. She speaks in a raspy voice.
“Take off your clothes. I want to see exactly how hairy a Kovalev man is.”
I laugh heartily and begin a slow striptease for her as she positions herself gingerly on the bed. Her breathing is still labored, but I’m not sure if that’s from the kissing or the rib pain. In the meantime, I slowly unbutton my shirt, relishing in the way she bites her lip and eye-fucks me.