Page 74 of Promised to the Cowboy

I watch her face as I work her open, curling my fingers against that spot that makes her breath hitch. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded with pleasure and lingering emotion. I kiss her through it—soft kisses on her eyelids, her tear tracks, the corner of her mouth—while my thumb keeps steady pressure on her clit.

When her thighs start to tremble, I shift lower, settling between her legs. I drape one of her thighs over my shoulder and taste her. Long, slow licks from her entrance to her clit, then gentle suction that has her fingers tightening in my hair. She tastes sweet and heady, and I lose myself in her—licking, sucking,fucking her with my tongue until her back arches and she comes with a broken cry of my name.

I stay with her through every pulse, gentling my touch as she rides it out. Only when she starts to relax do I kiss my way back up her body, lingering on the swell of her stomach with soft, reverent presses of my lips.

Evie pulls me up and kisses me deeply, tasting herself on my tongue. “Inside me,” she whispers against my mouth. “I need you inside me.”

I roll to my side and guide her to face me, hooking her top leg over my hip so we’re pressed together without me putting pressure on her belly. The head of my cock nudges her entrance. I look into her eyes as I push forward—inch by slow inch—until I’m buried to the hilt in tight, fluttering heat.

“Fuck, darlin’… you feel so good.” My voice is rough. “So perfect for me.”

We stay like that for a long moment, joined and breathing together. Then I start to move—long, deep rolls of my hips that drag against every sensitive place inside her. Evie’s hand slides up my chest to cup my jaw, her thumb brushing my lower lip as we move together.

“I love you,” I murmur, nipping her thumb. “All of you. The parts you’re afraid of showing the world, the parts that still hope your father might change. I love every piece.”

Tears slip from the corners of her eyes. She kisses me hard, rolling her hips to meet mine. “You make me feel safe. Wanted. Like I belong.”

The words hit me hard. I thrust a little deeper, grinding against her clit with every stroke. We move together, unhurried—skin sliding against skin, breaths mingling, hands exploring. I cup her breast, teasing her nipple. She reaches down to where we’re joined, fingers brushing my cock as it moves in and out of her.

The pleasure builds. I feel her tightening around me again, her breaths coming faster.

“That’s it, darlin’,” I murmur against her neck. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

She comes with a soft, shuddering cry, her walls clenching rhythmically around my cock. The feeling pulls me over the edge right after her. I groan her name as I spill deep inside her, pulse after pulse that leaves me shaking.

We stay locked together afterward, foreheads pressed close, breathing the same air. I stroke her back in long, soothing passes, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

Eventually, I ease out of her, both of us breathing hard. I press a lingering kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed. In the bathroom, I run a soft washcloth under warm water, wringing it out. When I return, Evie watches me with heavy-lidded, loving eyes. I settle beside her again and gently clean between her thighs, careful and tender. She sighs softly at the warm touch, relaxing under my care.

I kiss the inside of her knee before setting the cloth aside.

Only then do I pull her against my chest, spooning her from behind. My hand splays protectively over her belly as I nuzzle into her hair, inhaling the scent of her skin and the faint trace of my soap from earlier.

“You’re not alone anymore,” I whisper into the quiet. “Not ever. No matter what comes tomorrow, I’m right here. We’re in this together.”

Evie laces her fingers through mine over her stomach. “Together,” she echoes, her voice soft with exhaustion and peace.

We lie like that for a long while, the room quiet except for the sound of our slowing breaths. My palm rests warm and still over the curve of her belly, thumb absently stroking the skin. I’m half-dozing when I feel it.

A small, distinct flutter against my hand. Then another. Stronger.

I go completely still.

Evie lets out a soft, surprised laugh. “There she is,” she whispers. “She’s been moving more the last couple of weeks, but never this strong.”

My throat tightens. I press my hand a little firmer, hardly daring to breathe. Another kick—clear, deliberate, right under my palm. My daughter. Our daughter.

“God, Evie…” My voice cracks. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, eyes burning. “I feel her.”

Evie covers my hand with hers, holding it steady against the movement. “She knows her daddy’s here.”

I swallow hard. My whole chest aches with emotion. I spread my fingers wider, trying to capture every tiny shift and flutter.

“Hey, little one,” I murmur against Evie’s skin. “It’s me. Your dad. I’ve got you both. Always.”

The baby kicks again, almost like she’s answering. Evie’s quiet laughter vibrates through her back into my chest, and I tighten my arm around her, holding my whole world in my arms.

Right now, with Evie warm and sated against me and our daughter making herself known for the first time, everything else—the fear, the revelations, the fight still coming—fades into the background.