He doesn't stop until I'm begging, oversensitive and desperate.
Only then does he crawl up my body, positioning himself at my entrance.
"Need you," I gasp, wrapping my legs around him.
He slides home in one thrust, both of us groaning at the connection. "I’ll never get tired of this," he says against my neck. "Never get enough of you."
He moves slowly at first, deep rolls of his hips that hit every nerve, but his control falls apart quickly, his pace increasing until the bed frame creaks.
I cling to him, meeting each thrust, chasing the pleasure building again.
"Harder," I demand, nails raking his back.
He complies, pounding into me like a savage.
The headboard bangs against the wall, but I don't care who hears.
Let them know I'm his, that he's mine, that this is ours.
"Close," I pant. "I’m so fuckin’ close."
His hand finds my clit, rubbing circles that push me over the edge.
I come with a muffled scream, him following seconds later.
We collapse together, sweaty and sated.
He's still inside me, neither of us ready to separate.
His hand splays across my stomach, and I know what he's thinking.
"Next Thanksgiving," he murmurs, "maybe you'll be pregnant."
The thought sends warmth through me. "Maybe I already am."
He goes still. "Are you?"
"I don't know. Maybe." I've been feeling off lately, but with the stress... "Would that be okay?"
"Okay?" He rolls us so I'm on top, still connected. "That would be perfect."
I kiss him softly. "Then maybe I should take a test."
"Tomorrow," he says. "After all this is over. When the Patriot's gone and we can focus on our future."
If I am, I’ll be over the moon, but if I’m not I’ll know it will happen in time. Geirolf and I have the rest of our lives to start growing our family, but I’d be lying if I said I wanted to wait.
