Page 117 of Priest

We peeled each other's clothes off with trembling, eager fingers, my hands sliding her shirt up over the swell of her pregnant belly, pausing to kiss the taut skin there as she tugged me up so she could pull at my belt, fumbling with the buckle in her haste. Our laughter bubbled up between gasps, her breath hot against my neck, mine ragged as I grazed my thumbs along the curve of her hips.

I eased her back onto the bed, slipping a pillow under her lower back to support her, watching her face for any flicker of strain—the way her brow furrowed slightly before smoothing out as she adjusted. Her hands roamed my body insistently, fingers threading through my hair to pull me down for a deep kiss, then trailing down to grip my shoulders, urging me closer until our bare skin pressed together, her full breasts against my chest, nipples hardening under my touch.

I positioned myself between her legs, my fingers first exploring her slick folds, parting them gently to circle her clit with my thumb, feeling her hips buck slightly as she moaned into my mouth. She was wet and ready, her inner thighs quivering as I guided the head of my cock to her entrance, pressing in inch by inch, slow and deliberate, savoring the tight, warm clasp of her around me. A reverent shiver ran through us both; she gasped, her walls fluttering as I filled her completely, her legs wrapping around my hips, heels digging into my back to hold me there.

“Priest,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the word, eyes wide and locked on mine, glistening with unshed tears of need.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, forehead resting against hers, our breaths mingling. “All in. No more walls.”

We rocked together in a steady rhythm, my thrusts shallow and controlled to avoid pressing too hard against her belly, her hips rising to meet each one with a soft roll that sent sparks of pleasure shooting up my spine. I cupped her breast, kneading the soft flesh, rolling her nipple between my fingers until she arched, a whimper escaping her lips. Her hands clutched my biceps, her heels digging into my ass, pulling me deeper with each motion, our bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of us. Every glide inside her built the heat, her inner muscles clenching around my cock, drawing out low growls from my throat as I kissed her neck, nipping lightly at the pulse point.

When release hit, it crashed over us in unison—her body tensing first, a quiet cry spilling from her as her orgasm pulsed through her. Her walls milking me rhythmically. I followed seconds later, burying myself deep with a shuddering groan, spilling hot inside her, our shared tremors like a silent promise, bodies entwined in the afterglow of relief and belonging.

After, I gathered her against me, my hand splayed over her belly, breathing her in, letting the peace settle for the first time in too damn long.

She traced lazy circles on my chest, her voice turning sly and soft. “You know, most people ask before moving in.”

I huffed a laugh, feeling lighter than I had in years. “This you offering?”

She tilted her chin, that old challenge in her eyes. “Might as well. You’re already here. And I like having you close—for real this time.”

I pressed a kiss to her temple, smiling into her hair. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

I held her tighter, breathing her in, and let myself settle into the truth of it—right here, right now, I was home.

38

Priest

Morning slips into the room quietly, pale light filtering through the curtains and settling over the edge of the bed in a soft wash. For a few seconds, I don’t move. Blue’s back is tucked against my chest, the steady rise and fall of her breathing pressing into me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. My hand rests low over the curve of her belly, warm and protective without thought.

The baby shifts beneath my palm, a firm, deliberate kick that makes her stir.

She lets out a sleepy laugh. “The baby likes you.”

“I haven’t even started bribing him yet,” I murmur, my voice rough with sleep.

She rolls carefully onto her side, hair falling loose around her face, and guides my hand higher. “Him? Hm… Maybe. Talk to him.”

I clear my throat and lean closer, pressing my lips briefly to her shoulder before lowering my voice toward her stomach. “Morning, kid.”

Another kick answers me, stronger this time, and Blue’s laughter fills the room in a way that feels dangerously close to peace. For a moment, it’s easy to forget the tension that’s become the background hum of our lives. There’s only the quiet domestic rhythm of it, the coffee maker beginning its steady drip in the kitchen and the subtle weight of the future pressing between us in the best possible way.

Blue moves carefully from the bed, one hand braced on the dresser as she stands, and I follow a few minutes later, pulling on jeans while watching her cross the small apartment. She moves slower these days, more deliberate, but there’s nothing fragile about her. She carries herself like a woman who has already survived worse.

The kitchen fills with the scent of coffee and something faintly sweet left over from the candle she lit the night before. I stand behind her at the counter while she starts her morning tea, one hand settling naturally at her hip and the other over her belly. When the baby moves again beneath my palm, she leans back into me without hesitation, trusting the space I take up around her.

“You’re quiet,” she says, watching steam curl from her mug.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

I press a kiss into her hair. “How much I don’t want this to change.”

Her hand covers mine on her stomach, thumb brushing slow circles against my knuckles. “It will,” she says gently. “That’s kind of the point.”

Before I can answer, my phone vibrates on the counter.