I wanted to go faster. I fucking wanted it bad.
“It’s better this way,” I whispered, my voice husky and unrecognizable.
Maggie shook her head in protest with her eyes squinted shut. I wanted to show her how it could be with us. Keeping hold beneath her waist with one hand, I reached with the other to where we were our bodies joined and thumbed her clit. Her immediate gasp made me harder—if possible—and I responded with more pressure on her clit, swirling and pinching until she writhed beneath me.
She whined for it now, her words slurred and incoherent. “Please, Jack, don’t stop. It’s sogood.”
“You want it, baby?”
“God,yes.”
Her reply finally allowed me to increase my speed and take her like the madman I was. My grip on her hips tightened, my eyes traveled between her legs where she took me like the fucking angelshewas. Pressure built in my core like an air canister, threatening to combust at any moment. Maggie moaned and whimpered, chanted my name, clutched my shoulders, and pressed her sharp nails into my skin. When she finally fell apart, she was mine—body, soul,truth.Nothing was between us now. I wasn’t just the professional polo player with my father’s potential. I wasn’t the charming playboy everyone saw at first glance. I wasn’t even just the father of our future baby.
I was Jack.
Maggie’s Jack.
Chapter thirty-six
Maggie
Bliss. Pure, unbridled bliss wrapped around me like a silk blanket as I woke up with Jack’s arms around me. He was so warm and, despite his muscular build, soft pressed against my back. His mouth rested on the spot where my shoulder met my neck, releasing quiet, even breaths, a stark contrast from everything that had happened the night before.
I had been so afraid—and not just from his uncontrollable breaths. The way he shook, pale and helpless before my eyes…it caused me to realize how human this man really was. It sounded stupid, but even his charming, unbreakable mask fooled me sometimes, and seeing that the former persona ripped from his body revealed a shriveled, broken Jack—it only made me cherish him more.
I loved Jack through and through. Strong or weak. Together or apart. He held me up through all my anxieties with this baby and otherwise, and that was exactly what I intended to do for him. I wanted to hold him forever.
Jack stirred behind me, his hand covering my bump, rubbing small circles on my skin. I glanced down at it. The dichotomyof us squeezed my heart. His rough fingertips on the smooth, stretched skin of my belly. The blonde hairs on his knuckles against my brown waves. The charmer who would take down anyone for me.
“I love you,” a husky whisper in my ear spoke, and a kiss followed. I sighed with content while Jack’s hand continued rubbing my baby bump. “Good morning, Anya.”
I startled, hearing the name I had been pondering for the last few weeks, before remembering I had spoken it out loud to Jack. It was the second time I heard the word from his lips, and the way he said it confirmed that it was the name our baby deserved. I could only hope we could use it if it turned out to be a girl. I hadn’t decided on a boy's name I liked best yet. I just…felt like there was a baby girl inside of me.
“Anya.” I mimicked his pronunciation. I liked that he said it with his accent. I loved it when he didn’t hide it from me. “I like how you say it.” When I turned to face him, his eyes immediately locked with mine.
But not without an unsubtle glance at my lips.
“What do you mean?”
“Your accent. I like when you don’t hide it.”
Jack didn’t roll his eyes like I assumed he would. Instead, he raised his brows in surprise with a genuine question on his lips. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Jack. You’re not as subtle as you think you are. I love your accent. I wish you didn’t cover it up so much.”
He shifted and glanced at the wall behind me before meeting my gaze again. “I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’ve always done it.”
“I know,” I spoke softly. “I remember when we were six and you talked for the horses in that accent.”
“Mags,” he groaned, then shook his head and laughed. “That was years ago.”
“Doesn’t mean I forgot.” I tugged on my bottom lip and gazed up at him.
Without another word, Jack cupped my face and took my mouth, groaning when we connected. Unlike anyone else, he made me feel overwhelmed with passion to embrace the person he was. I had spent years trying to see my dad in a different light, trying to change him before he was ready to change himself. I wanted to forget that his actions caused the gaping hole of a mother in my life. I wanted to pretend everything was okay. And while everything with Jack started out as pretending, I was only living behind the inevitable truth that nothing about Jack was fake or pretend…except the way he covered his accent. He thought himself an open book, that strangers knew of his immense struggles with anxiety. His only safe haven was the American façade he put on.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, basking in the way he worshiped my body. The way every touch and breath and kiss was on purpose. How he branded me with his lips, never to be unclaimed again. The understanding that his dedication to our family had turned his life upside down, and he still came out strong.
With battle scars, but still strong.
