Page 240 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
When I reach the bandage on her side I freeze for half a second, jaw clenching at the sight of the gauze. Fear and rage flash hot through me. My hand hovers, trembling with the urge to rip it away or punish the world for putting it there.
She catches my wrist, fingers tight.
“I won’t break, Elijah,” she whispers, voice steady even as her body trembles beneath me. “I’m here. I’m alive. I need all of you. Don’t hold back. Claim me.”
The words snap something inside me.
I shove her pants and underwear down her legs in one harsh tug, yanking them off and throwing them to the floor, leaving her completely bare while I’m still half-dressed. I rip my own shirt over my head and shove my pants down just enough to free myself, thick, heavy, already leaking with raw need. I settle between her spread thighs, grip her hips hard enough to bruise, and drag the swollen head of my cock through her slick folds, coating myself in her wetness, teasing her entrance until she’s rocking up against me with desperate little sounds.
Then I push in.
One deep, powerful thrust buries me to the hilt, stretching her open around my thickness. The groan that tears from my throat is guttural. She’s tight and hot and mine, and the feel of her fluttering and clenching around me nearly undoes me. I stay buried for one heartbeat, letting her feel every inch, then I start to move.
Hard. Deep. Relentless.
My hips snap forward again and again, driving into her with every ounce of the fear and desperation I’ve been swallowing. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room. One hand braces beside her head, fingers digging into the sheets, the other slidesunder her ass, lifting her hips so I can drive even deeper, grinding the base of my cock against her clit with every brutal thrust. I keep the angle perfect, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out and tighten around me.
I lean down and bite her shoulder again, hard enough to leave a dark mark, never enough to truly hurt, then soothe it with my tongue while I keep fucking her in steady, punishing strokes. My free hand finds her breast, squeezing hard, pinching her nipple until she gasps and clenches around my cock like a vice.
“Mine,” I growl against her ear, voice rough and dark. “You’re mine. Alive. Here. My wife. Still so fucking perfect for me, with my baby inside you.”
The words come out low, possessive, laced with that deep, primal need to claim what’s already growing in her. I fuck her harder at the thought, hips slamming forward, the subtle press of her belly against my abs with every thrust reminding me exactly what she’s carrying.
She cries out, nails raking down my back, legs locking tight around my waist. “Elijah, yes! Harder!”
I give it to her. Faster. Deeper. My hand slides between us to rub firm, relentless circles over her clit while I drive into her, pushing her toward the edge without mercy.
When she comes, it’s violent and beautiful. Her walls clamp down hard around my cock, rippling and squeezing as she sobs my name, back bowing off the bed. I don’t slow. I fuck her through it, hips never faltering, drawing every last pulse from her until she’s shaking and gasping.
Only then do I let myself go.
With a guttural roar I bury myself as deep as I can and come hard, thick, hot pulses flooding her, claiming her from the inside out while I grind against her, making sure every drop stays deep inside her. My body shudders with the force of it, the last of thefear and denial finally draining away as I empty myself inside her.
The intensity ebbs as the last spasms fade.
I roll us so she’s tucked against my chest, my arms wrapping around her like iron bands. I press firm kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, still possessive, still hungry, but now laced with something raw and reverent. My hand strokes down her back in slow, grounding sweeps before settling over the small, warm swell of her stomach, palm pressing lightly like I can protect what’s growing there.
“My angel,” I murmur, voice hoarse and thick. “My beautiful angel. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Never.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. One slips free, tracking down my cheek as I hold her tighter, burying my face in her hair.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, voice cracking. “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t protect you. Sorry I made you beg for my love when you should never have had to ask. I was so scared… I won’t do that again. Never again. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Always.”
She curls into me, and I keep stroking her hair, my fingers tracing firm, possessive patterns over her skin, breathing her in while the bedroom light softens around us.
The fear is still there, buried deep, but for the first time since I almost lost her, it doesn’t own me.
She does.
And I will spend every day proving it.
fifty-one
Jackson
The ice feels different under my skates tonight.
Not unfamiliar.
