Page 113 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

I worked my way down her body, kissing, tasting, and memorizing. When I reached the apex of her thighs, I looked up at her. Her head was thrown back, her hands fisted in the fur of the rug, her chest heaving.

“Look at me,” I said.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused.

“I need you to see me,” I continued. “I need you to know who’s doing this to you.”

She nodded, barely, and I lowered my mouth to her.

The taste of her was everything. Sweet and salt and something uniquelyher. I took my time learning what made her gasp, what made her hips buck, what made her cry out my name like a prayer.

When she came apart the first time, I felt it in my chest—a tightening, a claiming, aminethat echoed through every cell in my body.

I kissed my way back up her body, shedding the rest of my clothes as I went, and when I finally settled between her thighs again, skin to skin, I paused.

“Tell me you want this,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I want this,” she breathed. “I wantyou.”

I entered her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face as I filled her. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened, and I felt her body stretch to accommodate me.

Nothing—nothing—had ever felt like this.

She was tight and warm. Perfect. Her body gripped me like it was made for this, like we were two pieces finally clicking into place. I buried myself to the hilt and stilled, letting her adjust, letting myself adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being inside her.

“Breathe,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers. “Just breathe, baby.”

She exhaled shakily, her hands coming up to grip my shoulders.

I started to move.

Slow at first. Deep, deliberate strokes that made her whimper and arch beneath me. I watched her face, watched the way hereyes fluttered closed, the way her lips parted, the way she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t hide from me,” I said, my voice rough. “Let me hear you.”

She moaned, and the sound went straight through me.

I picked up the pace, driving into her harder, deeper, and she met me thrust for thrust. Her nails dug into my back, her legs wrapped around my waist, and I felt her body tightening around me again.

“That’s it,” I murmured against her ear. “That’s it, Truth. You feel that? You feel us?”

“Yes—” she gasped. “Yes, Amai?—”

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” I continued, my voice low and intense. “This connection. Thisrightness. You were made for me, baby. Your body knows it. Your soul knows it.”

She cried out, her body arching off the rug, and I felt her come apart around me.

I didn’t stop.

I kept moving, kept talking, kept pulling her deeper into this space where nothing existed except the two of us.

“I see you,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “I see every part of you, Truth. The strength. The fear. The beauty. The brokenness. And I want all of it. I wantyou.”

Her eyes opened, locked on mine, and I saw tears streaming down her temples.

“You’re not alone anymore,” I continued, my rhythm faltering as my own release built. “You hear me? You’re not alone. I’m here. I’mright here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Amai—” Her voice was a sob, a plea, a surrender.