Page 34 of Crowned By the Enemy Vampire
We reach our chambers. I open the door and usher her inside, then close it behind us. We’re in the bedroom part of our enormous suite, which opens to the sitting room and beyond that to my study, which is now our study, with an extra desk for my Queen.
The fire burns low in the hearth in the sitting room, casting warm shadows across the room. I glance over at the thick rug in front of the fireplace where I first claimed her, and I get an idea.
Claire crosses to the vanity and starts pulling pins from her hair. It tumbles down around her shoulders in golden waves, catching the firelight.
She catches my eye in the mirror. “What?”
“Just looking at my wife.”
“You’ve been looking at your wife for two years.”
“And I’ll look at her until our days run into time.”
Her expression softens. She turns to face me, and something in her eyes makes my heart stutter.
“Nikolai.” She stands and crosses to me, takes my hand. “I have something to tell you.”
She presses my palm against her belly.
For a moment, I don’t understand and then I feel the slight curve beneath my hand that wasn’t there a few weeks ago.
“Claire...”
“Marta suspected before I did. She’s already knitting.”
Another child. Our family, growing.
“Are you happy?” she whispers.
Words are inadequate for what I’m feeling, so I kiss her instead, pouring everything I feel into the press of my lips against hers.
When we break apart, she’s breathless. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she manages.
And then her fingers tug at my shirt, pulling it free from my trousers. “Nikolai,” she breathes against my mouth. “I need you. The pregnancy hormones are...I’ve been like this all day. I’m so sensitive, everything feels... I need you to touch me.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. I remember this from her first pregnancy. How needy she becomes and how responsive.
I take her hand and guide her to the thick rug in front of the fireplace where it all began.
I lower her down. The fire crackles beside us, casting warm light across her skin as I undress her slowly. Button by button.Layer by layer. Until she’s bare beneath me, golden and glowing and mine.
My mark is still visible on her throat. The pale scar where I claimed her two years ago. I trace it with my tongue and she arches into me, gasping.
“I’ll take care of you,” I murmur against her skin. “I’ll always take care of you.”
“Please...”
I press a kiss against the small bump of her stomach. Then my face is between her open thighs.
And I take my time, giving her all the pleasure she needs.
