Page 178 of The Enemy Protector
Dads. Me. I’m a dad. The title still feels off.
I lean down and kiss her, slow and deep. She responds immediately, her fingers threading through my hair.
“How are you feeling?” I ask against her lips.
“Like I have two tiny humans using my organs as punching bags.” She shifts again. “But otherwise okay.”
My hand slides lower on her stomach, then lower still, slipping beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts.
“You know how they like to fall asleep,” I say. “Works every time.”
I stroke her slowly, watching her face. She gasps as I push two fingers inside her. Her hips lift, seeking more.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Take what you need.”
I work her with my hand, my thumb circling her clit while my fingers curl inside her. She’s so responsive, so wet and ready for me.
Every single fucking day she grows rounder with my children and I find her more beautiful.
“I need you,” she pants. “Inside me. Now.”
I withdraw my hand and strip off the rest of my clothes. She pushes down her shorts and spreads her legs. I settle between her thighs, careful not to put pressure on her belly.
When I push inside her, we both groan. She’s tight and hot and perfect.
“Yes,” she moans. “God, yes.”
I start to move, pinning her hands above her head. Something I wouldn’t have been able to do six months ago. But she’s past that trauma for the most part. She trusts me with her body in a way she could never before.
“Harder,” she demands.
I comply, increasing the pace. The bed creaks beneath us. Her cries get louder.
“That’s my girl,” I growl. “Let me hear you.”
She comes apart beneath me, her body clenching around my cock. The sensation pushes me over the edge. I empty myself inside her with a groan.
We collapse together, both breathing hard. I roll to the side, pulling her against me.
“Better?” I ask.
“Much better.” She yawns. “The boys have stopped moving.”
I smile. “Every time.”
“We’re never telling them how daddy rocked them to sleep before they were born.”
I chuckle into the dark.
She’s asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out. I hold her, cradling my sleeping babies with my hand on her belly.
I can do this. I can be what they need.
I have to be.
43
Sofia
