Chapter One Hundred Five
Raleigh
Three months later
Uncomfortable at this point in pregnancy is an understatement.
My due date isn’t for another month, but my doctor says that they can come at any time.
Things between Lincoln and I are so much better. We’ve been focusing more on our relationship and building it up instead of the sexual aspect of things.
Now, that’s not to say that as we’ve been cuddling or making out that things never became hot and heavy, or that we haven’t helped one another out a time or ten when the need arose.
But, to my surprise, that physical intimacy and even dipping my toes back into the sexual side of things and being able to pull back, having *that* kind of control has helped.
It has allowed me to have control of the situation, but not the entire experience. Through these moments, I’ve found that I’m not chasing that high anymore, unlike what I had been doing before.
I’m not in the moment, not just trying to make Lincoln cum or him, me. I cherish the touches, the kisses, the building of intimacy without the rush of just getting to the next step.
I relish in the whispered words against my skin, Lincoln memorizing every inch of my body. The sensual massages and featherlight kisses that leave me yearning for more, along with the deep, passionate moments that leave me breathless.
Just as I love how he drives me wild with his passion and his dirty talk that I’m so damn grateful never ceased.
I look forward to building the tension, driving *him* mad with desire. I love rediscovering the playful, goofy side of him that had made me fall for him in the first place.
A side of him that in all the chaos of the past months, he had lost, and I had somehow forgotten about.
And the best part?
I don’t feel dirty or disgusted with myself after the fact.
I don’t feel guilty.
I don’t have to chase the high.
Am I completely cured from the traumas of my past that lead me to where I am now, in the first place?
Definitely not.
Three months is definitely not enough time to unpack all that baggage. But I’m *healing*. I’m a work in progress but I’ve found that, at least for now, I’m okay with that.
And on the flipside, I love the closeness, the bond that has formed between Lincoln and I.
And maybe all of this had to happen, so that we could make the lang haul together. Because, slowly, little by little, as we both begin to heal both individually and as a couple, we’re finding our way to becoming the people and beginning to have the relationship that we were always meant to.
Just he and I.
And soon our son and daughter.
Hands close over my eyes, blocking everything from view. At one point in time, this would have caused my heart to pound in fear, but now it pounds in excited anticipation.
“Guess who?” A deep voice whispers, his breath stirring the loose hair next to my ear, making it tickle and a chill run through my body.
“Hmmm…Ro?” I ask teasingly.
“Nope. Try again.” His deep voice urges.
“José?” I don’t even know a José, but I’ve found that I love messing with him.
“Who the hell is José?” Lincoln asks, quickly backing up a step, his hands falling away from my face with the movement.
Turning around quickly, so that I’m facing him, I widen my eyes and put on an *Oh shit,* look on my face before changing it to one of guilt and desperation as I stammer, “I-it’s not…he’s not one.”
I watch as his face morphs to one of anger and he closes the distance between us once more and leans forward, both arms on either side of me, his hands clenching against the back of the couch, trapping me as he leans his face down, stopping a mere two inches away. So close that I can feel the air from his angry breaths against my lips, and growls, “You better be fucking with me, Baby. Because I’m not going to lose you again. And other than with my brothers, I don’t share. You. Are. Mine!”
“Then show me,” I demand, his words and caveman attitude make my clit throb with need.
Not wasting a single second, one hand grasps the back of my neck, just as he covers my lips with his, his tongue lashing out, demanding entry. His other hand cups my cheek as he lowers onto his knees on the floor in front of me.
Need for more courses through me at the same time that my belly begins to tighten and my back starts to ache.
I pull away, breathless and pinch my eyes closed as I wait for the Braxton Hicks contraction to go away.
They’ve been happening more often over the last month or so.
As soon as it relents, I take Lincoln’s mouth in another deep kiss and grasp hold of his shoulders, pushing him back, following his movement as I climb from the couch and onto his lap, straddling his hips.
One of his hands finds my hip before sliding to my mid back and then beneath my shirt, his hand blazing a trail of heat everywhere he touches as he moves it from the small of my back, his fingers stroking my spine until they reach their destination.
Pushing through the neck of my shirt, he buries his hand in my hair as he removes the other one and wraps it around my lower back, and grasping hold of my other hip, his hold trapping me against his hard body.
My nipples peak, brushing through the t-shirt that I’m wearing, my heaving breathes causing them to skim Lincoln’s chest, the action pulling a moan from deep within me, my core tightening.
I move one of my hands between us, grasping hold of the gray waistband of his sweats and reaching inside, I wrap my hand around his hard, thick cock, pulling a hiss from him.
The cool barbels of the piercings that he got for me are in opposition to the heat of his silky skin, making me wet and my mouth water with anticipation.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he groans as I glide my hand up, then back down his shaft, pumping him. “Is that what you want? What you need?” He asks, then with his lips brushing my own, he quickly adds, “You need my cock between these lips of yours?”
I shake my head *no*, my heart racing in my chest as realization dawns on me that *I’m ready.*
There’s not a doubt in my mind about whether I’m ready or not to take this next step with him again.
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