Page 66 of Sinful Bride

“Fine. Guilty. I’m still thinking about it,” I confess.

“My advice?” Hazel grins as she reaches forward to tap a finger against my forehead. “Do less thinking with this…” She points that finger down between my legs. “And do some more with that. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”

26

DAPHNE

The doctor makes a few notes in the chart. “I’m glad to hear you’re adjusting to formula feeding,” she says. When she sees my surprise, she gives me a casual shrug. “It’s not always cut-and-dry. You’ll hear some physicians swear by breastmilk and others promote formula. I’m here telling you how relieved I am that you’re putting your own health, as well as your baby’s health, first.”

“I thought breastfeeding was for my baby’s health.”

“In a perfect world, we’d all be breastfeeding and breastfed. But remember, formula was invented for a reason. At the end of the day, the priority is making sure your child is fed. However that may look.”

I nod. And I resist the urge to nudge Pasha as he suppresses a knowing smirk when we both hear the obstetrician practically quoting him.

“Now…” She checks the paperwork and charts again. “Let’s see. The exam looked good; everything is in its proper place. How are you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed?” I laugh almost breathlessly. But I know what she’s really asking, so I wave off my lame little joke. “No, really, I’m doing well. Haven’t felt any pain or trouble with normal stuff, like…” I glance at Pasha. “You know. Bathroom and all that.”

“Good. Very good. In that case, pairing up with the timing of almost seven weeks now, I officially declare you fit to resume normal activity.” The doctor glances at my husband. “That includes you, Mr. Chekhov.”

“Thank God,” he mutters.

I raise a finger. “One thing we do need to discuss is birth con?—”

“We’re not going on birth control.” Pasha rests a hand on my shoulder. “We’re planning on growing our family.”

“Pasha…” I glance at the doctor, who is wisely choosing to concentrate on the clipboard.

“Would you mind giving us a moment?” He doesn’t look away from me, but it’s clear he’s speaking to the doctor.

She raises a brow but gives us the room without objection.

He waits until we both hear her footsteps recede from the closed door. When he calmly goes over and turns the lock, I can’t help but feel a surge of heat right where I don’t need it to be happening in an OBGYN.

“Pash, I mean it. I’m not saying ‘no’ forever; I just?—”

He cuts me off with a searing kiss. I’m so wrapped up in my worry, I don’t even clock him crossing the room to me until I’m nearly bent backwards with the intensity of his kiss.

“I’m surprised,” he rumbles low in my ear. It’s dizzying, feeling the heat of his breath on my skin, the graze of his teeth on my lobe, and the tug of his thumbs on the waistband of my leggings. “Don’t you want to feel me inside you?”

He knows I do. Of fucking course I do. He’s not the only one who’s been aching during our hiatus.

But that’s not the point. And he knows it.

“God, yes,” I breathe. “But?—”

HIs fingers stroke my outer lips and steal my next words in a gasp.

“But nothing.” His mouth travels to my neck and sucks, hard. At the same time, his thick finger teases my opening and we both hear just how wet he’s making me. “You are my wife. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy filling you. Opening you. Watching your face as you come apart.”

I hear his pants unzip.

“And you will come apart, Daphne. I’ll make sure you scream my name before you beg me to plant my baby inside you.”

I’m spun around and bent over the exam table before I have a chance to think of a response.

A winded grunt flies from my mouth when he enters me from behind. Hard. Deep. No time to spread my legs wider—no room to, either, with how my leggings are practically binding my knees together.

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