Page 112 of Worth the Fall

"What are you thinking about?" I ask quietly, lacing my fingers through his.

He looks at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I'm thinking about how lucky I am. How lucky we are. I never thought I'd have this again, you know? A family, a future. But now, with you…" He shakes his head, wonder in his eyes. "It's everything."

I feel tears prick my eyes for what must be the hundredth time today. Damn hormones.

"I love you," I whisper, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I love our family, and I love this baby already. Even if they have terrible timing."

He laughs, his hand coming up to cup my face. "I love you too, Mia. All of you. And I can't wait to meet this little one."

We stay like that for a long while, trading soft kisses and silly baby names, imagining what the future might hold. Felicity eventually falls asleep on the floor, her picture clutched to her chest, and Miguel gently carries her to bed.

When he returns, he pulls me close, his hand resting protectively on my stomach.

Everything feels heightened, more intense. Maybe it's the hormones, or maybe it's the way he's looking at me like I've given him the entire world. When his hands slide under my shirt, skimming across my skin, I gasp at how sensitive I am to his touch.

"Careful," he murmurs, noticing my reaction. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," I assure him, arching into his touch. "Everything just feels… more."

His eyes darken at this information, and the next kiss is deeper, hungrier. One hand stays protectively over where our child is growing while the other tangles in my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access to my neck.

"Tell me what you need," he says against my skin, and I shiver at the mix of tenderness and heat in his voice.

"You," I breathe, tugging him closer. "Just you."

He takes his time undressing me, his touches reverent but charged with desire. Each caress feels magnified, sending sparks of pleasure racing through me. When his lips trail down my body, pausing to press a kiss just below my navel, the gesture is so tender it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

"Mi amor," he murmurs, looking up at me with such love it makes my chest ache. "I am going to devour every square inch of your perfect body."

His lips trace a path down my body that makes me shiver, and I thread my fingers through his dark curls, torn betweenpulling him closer and pushing him away from my oversensitive skin. Every touch feels amplified, like he's awakened nerve endings I didn't even know I had.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs against my inner thigh, but the roughness in his voice betrays his own need. His stubble scrapes gently against my sensitive skin, making me gasp.

"Don't stop," I manage, my back arching as his mouth finds me. The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out—everything so much more intense now, almost overwhelming. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as pleasure builds faster than I'm prepared for.

"Miguel," I whimper, pulling at his hair. "I need…"

He understands without me having to finish, sliding back up my body. When he pushes into me again, it's slower this time, more deliberate. His eyes lock on mine, and the intensity of his gaze makes my breath catch.

"I love watching you like this," he says, his voice rough as he moves. "So responsive, so perfect." His hand splays across my lower belly, protective even in this moment. "Carrying my baby."

The possessiveness in his voice sends heat rushing through me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. His rhythm falters for a moment as he groans against my neck.

"Careful, mi amor," he warns, but I can feel him trembling with restraint. "You're going to undo me."

"Maybe that's what I want," I challenge, rolling my hips to meet his thrusts. The new angle has me seeing stars, and I dig my nails into his shoulders.

He captures my mouth in a kiss that's all heat and claiming, and I lose myself in the sensation. Everything narrows to this—the weight of him above me, the perfect way he fills me, how he knows exactly where to touch to drive me wild.

"Mine," he growls against my lips, and the word sends electricity racing down my spine. "Only mine."

The possessiveness, the tenderness, the way he's staring down at me with a fire in his eyes—it's too much. I come apart beneath him with a cry that he swallows with his kiss, holding me through the waves of pleasure until I'm trembling and boneless in his arms.

He follows shortly after, my name a prayer on his lips, and collapses carefully to the side to avoid crushing me. His hand immediately returns to my stomach, and I cover it with my own, loving how his wedding ring feels against my palm.

"I can't believe we made a baby," I whisper, still catching my breath.

He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with such tenderness it makes my heart ache. "I can. We're pretty good at creating beautiful things together."

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