“Careful…”
“They’re fuller, heavier.” He leaned down, eyes on her face in case his tongue or mouth against her nipple made her cringe. But she only moaned, set her nails into the back of his neck when he rolled his tongue over that darkening pink skin. “Your body was perfect before, baby, now you’re fucking luminous. I don’t think I’ve ever see anything so beautiful.”
Layla stopped Donovan before he could lick against her breast again, pulling his face up. “What did you call me?”
He stepped back, still held her, but twisted his head to the side, confused by the surprise that dropped her mouth open. “Beautiful.”
“You’ve… you’ve never called me that before.”
That couldn’t be right. Could it? How often had Donovan thought Layla was beautiful? Flawless? Only every time he saw her, even when she raged at him, even when she got so far under his skin he thought he could feel her clawing against it, he still thought she was beautiful. But had he really never said it to her? How as that even possible? And then he realized, by the open, exposed shock on her face that Layla needed to hear that from him. Damn, but he was an asshole sometimes.
He took her face, stepping closer, his mouth just inches from hers and his thumbs moving against her cheekbones. “Well, I’m sorry then. Because I thought it every damn day.”
Layla’s smile came easy and her breath hitched when he kissed her forehead. Donovan realized he’d never seen her like this—vulnerable, exposed and he decided right then that he’d do anything to keep her this open to him, to have her this beautiful, this honest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Ruining your life.” He kept his hands firmly on her face, hoping his expression was just as open, just as raw as her own. God knows he meant everything he said. He just prayed she believed him.
“I’m sorry for ruining yours.”
“Shit, baby, you didn’t. You make it so much fucking better.”
“Donovan…”
He stopped her with his thumb covering her lips. “Shut up, brat and let me kiss you.”
And Layla did, right then, she stopped fighting him. She stopped acting as though Donovan had hurt her beyond forgiveness and she let him kiss her. They both moaned, filled up that steamy bathroom room with their eager, desperate groans as their naked bodies slicked against each other.
“It’s been so long, Layla and you taste so good. I want to taste you everywhere.” She didn’t complain, didn’t hesitate or stop him when Donovan dropped to his knees, the water running over his back as he moved her to the back of the shower to sit against the small shelf. Layla didn’t say another word as Donovan pulled her leg over his shoulder and covered her sweet, swollen pussy with his mouth.
“Oh God… oh, shit! Shit!”
“You’re so full,” he said, feeling how hot her lips were, how her clit practically pulsed against his finger when he touched it.
“Sensitive… so sensitive.”
And Donovan took advantage of how the pregnancy had changed her body, how the curves, the weight of those changes made every touch against her center jar her, had her responding to him so intensely, her fingers in his hair, tugging, pulling, making his dick throb and ache so bad that he had to hold himself at the base, pinching off the orgasm that threatened just from tasting her.
It was barely a minute before his mouth and fingers on her, inside her, had Layla screaming, had her coming so hard that she flooded Donovan’s mouth and he couldn’t wait, didn’t let her come down from the sensation of that hard orgasm before he got to his feet and slipped right inside of her, holding her off the floor.
“Fuck,” he groaned when she pulsed around him, when the sensation of her tight, searing pussy around him had him stilling his movements. He wanted it to last. He didn’t know if it would or if she’d ever give herself to him again and he wanted to stay buried inside her as long as he could stand it.
Breath heavy, Layla kissed his neck, tugged on his earlobe and squeezed him again. “Please, please move, Donovan. Please.”
“If I move, it’ll be over too soon.”
And then Layla laughed, making him take his face away from the curve of her neck. “What?”
“If you move now, right now, I’ll ride you hard the second we get dried off and get into bed.”
And that was all it took., His hips moved, working fast, pumping into her faster and harder until she crashed again and Donovan chased after his own orgasm, desperate for the release, desperate for the minutes that followed when he’d be right back inside her again.