Page 66 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

“About this,” I said, gesturing vaguely to my reflection. “About... me.”

His brow furrowed deeper, and he closed the distance between us, his hands resting lightly on my waist. His touch was warm, grounding, but it also sent a spark racing through me.

“What about you?” he asked softly.

I looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “About whether you’ll still want me. Like this.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, but when he spoke, his voice was filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. “Naomi. Look at me.”

I lifted my gaze to the mirror, meeting his reflection. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite name.

“How can you not see it?” he said, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “You’re breathtaking.”

“Hudson,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean,” he said, his voice firm. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me back against him. The heat of his body pressed against mine, and I felt the strength of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Every inch of you. You’re carrying our babies, Naomi. You’re creating life. How could you ever think you’re not enough?”

His words mademy chest ache, and my insecurities began to melt under the weight of his gaze. He slid his hands up my sides, his fingers skimming the edge of my bralette. The light touch sent a shiver through me, and my breath hitched.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice rough now. “Every curve. Every part of you. And it drives me insane.”

“Hudson,” I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he said, pressing his lips to my neck. The kiss was soft at first, teasing, but it deepened quickly. His tongue flicked against my skin, and I gasped, my hands gripping the edge of the dresser for balance.

He caught my gaze in the mirror, his eyes burning with need. “You don’t believe me yet,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But you will.”

He moved behind me,his hands roaming over my curves with a reverence that made my knees weak. He slid the straps of my bralette down my arms, letting it fall away, and the cool air against my bare skin was quickly replaced by the heat of his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands tracing the soft lines of my body. “Every inch of you.”

I felt his lips against my shoulder, then my neck, trailing kisses that left me trembling. His hands found my stomach, his fingers splayed wide as if to cover as much of me as he could.

“This,” he said, his voice husky as he pressed a kiss to the curve of my belly. “This is everything. You’re everything.”

I turned to face him,my chest rising and falling as I met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that made my skin flush. I reached for him, my fingers tracing the lines of his chest, his shoulders, the sharp edge of his jaw.

“You make me feel... alive,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed me, his lips capturing mine in a way that stole my breath. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me against him, and I felt the heat of him, the strength, the steady pulse of his desire.

“Let me show you,” he murmured against my lips. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Time seemedto blur as he guided me to the bed, his touch slow and deliberate. He worshiped every part of me, his lips and hands exploring every curve, every inch, until there wasn’t a single doubt left in my mind.

When we finally came together, it wasn’t just about passion. It was about connection, about love, about the promise of the life we were creating together. And as I lay in his arms afterward, his hand resting protectively over my stomach, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.

Whole. Wanted. Loved.

Chapter Fifty-One

Naomi

The grocery store parking lot was unusually quiet as I loaded the last of the bags into the trunk. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the asphalt. I glanced around, my senses on edge for reasons I couldn’t quite pinpoint. It felt too quiet. Too still.

I closed the trunk, gripping my keys tightly as I made my way back to the driver’s seat. My heart skipped when I thought I saw movement in the corner of my eye—a figure lingering near one of the parked cars. My pulse quickened, and I quickened my pace, sliding into the car and locking the doors in one smooth motion.

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