Billionaires Dollar Series

“Kiss me good night?” she murmurs, a hand on my chin, and dear Lord…Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I kiss her and I do it properly, coaxing her warm mouth open, my tongue sweeping in. Perhaps goodnight kisses should be chaste, soft things, but there’s nothing chaste about this.

Bella kisses me back, her hands on my bare chest. She lifts one of her legs to drape it over me and oh fuck, the pressure on my aching, hard-

She pulls back.

“Ignore it,” I say. Can she hear the desire in my voice? “I know you’re not ready yet, that we’re taking it slow. I can wait.”

In the darkness, I can’t make out her expression. But then her hand moves downwards, over my chest, my stomach, beneath the elastic band of my boxers.

There’s not a part of my body that could have stopped her, and least of all that one. I hiss out a breath as her hand closes around me.

“I don’t want to ignore it,” she says. “Silly man, I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Waiting for me?”

“To feel like you trusted me again. I didn’t want to rush you.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words die as her movements speed up. For a long few seconds I can do nothing but breathe.

“You have no idea how that feels,” I murmur. “Or how long I’ve wanted you.”

“The second one I know pretty well.”

I wiggle my T-shirt out of the way and up her body, and she stops stroking long enough to slip out of it. There’s brief hesitation in the air as I put my hands on her. “Bella?”

“My body is different,” she says, voice soft, almost apologetic. “I know that.”

“Yes, it is.” I weigh her full, firm tits in my hands, bending my head to take a nipple in my mouth. The soft swell of her belly against me is wondrous. “You’re even more beautiful. It’s not fair, really.”

She laughs, but the sound dies as I use my teeth, transformed into a gasp. “I remember some things,” I murmur.

“So do I.” Bella shifts so she can stroke me at the same time and I damn near come right then, her soft breast in my mouth and her hand on my cock.

Proudly, I exercise restraint, reaching into depths of character I didn’t know I had. And when she finally begs me to, when I reach into her panties, she’s the kind of wet that I know I’ll dream about for years.

“Ethan,” she murmurs. “Please.”

I run my hands over her naked body, wondering how to do this best, how to not hurt or harm. Finally, I settle behind her, lifting her leg and keeping my arm around her. “Just like this, baby,” I murmur, guiding myself. “I can’t wait to be inside you…”

Pushing in is like coming home-there are no other words for it. She twists her head to kiss me, my hand between her legs to ignite her own pleasure, my hips thrusting… the idea of there being space between us is laughable.

I always want her this close.

I grip her as tight as I dare when I shatter, my body curved around hers and still buried deep. Her soft, encouraging moans are the most beautiful sound.

“Move in with me,” I mumble against her neck. “I’m very close to begging.”

Bella surprises me then. She doesn’t say yes. She doesn’t say no. She just relaxes against me. “Oh, I love you, Ethan.”

I close my eyes at the words, at the emotion that threatens to split me in half. Just when I thought I had nothing left to give, she proves me wrong.

“Christ,” I whisper.

Bella chuckles. “Still just me.”

“I love you too,” I murmur. “Far, far more than I should, probably, but if there’s a way to stop I hope I never find it.”

“Me neither,” she whispers, twisting to kiss me. “Can I move out of the guest bedroom now?”

Laughing, I pull her close. “Baby, you are never sleeping in here again.”

Lucas Edwin Carter was a surprise down to the very last moment, which made sense, since he had been nothing but surprising from the time he was two lines on a pregnancy test.

We’re at a farmers’ market with the girls when another round of Braxton Hicks contractions hits. Ethan is at my side, arm around my waist. “Another set of false ones?”

“I think so, yes. Who knew labor was so much fun that your body had to simulate it for weeks beforehand? Oh. Ouch.” I grip his arm, resting my face against his chest. He smells good.

“Not right now, sweetie,” he tells someone who’s hopefully not me. “Bella will be fine, but she’s in a bit of pain right now.”

“Baby pain?”

“Right, pregnancy pain.”

No, I want to object, labor pain. The contractions have never been quite this painful before-and have they ever gone on for quite this long? I’m about to open my mouth to tell Ethan that perhaps this is different, when the contractions release me from their fiery grasp. The pain is gone.

“Okay,” I murmur, releasing his arm. “We’re good. We’re good.”

The furrow in his brow is back, concern in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” My voice is more certain I feel, but I’ve learned that’s another part of pregnancy. You’re asked to self-assess all the time, as if you have a direct line of communication with the baby-as if we keep up a text conversation.

Ethan eyes my stomach with a fair bit of skepticism. He’s the one who wants to go to the hospital at every hint of a contraction, has been more nervous than me since I entered the ninth month.

Better safe than sorry is his constant refrain. It’s gotten us admitted to the hospital twice so far only to be sent back home.

“I’m not going in today,” I tell him.

“Fine.” His hand rests on my low back as we continue walking through the market, looking at the best early spring has to offer.

And then the second contraction hits.

And then the third one.

And they’re not at all like the ones that have come before. Ethan steers me toward the car, calling for the girls to hurry up and swearing under his breath.

“This was a bad idea,” he mutters, glancing at me.