Page 37 of Can We Try?

“Tell me, Mags. We’re in this together, remember?” My voice is soothing as I practically beg her to tell me what she needs. I have a pretty good idea. I’ve been reading the books, but I’m going to need her to spell it out for me.

“It’s the hormones.”

My hand moves to cradle the back of her neck, bringing her closer. “What about them?”

“They’re… heightened. They’re more, and nothing seems to help.”

“I can help you.” I lean in and kiss just below her ear. “Can we try, Mags? Can you let me show you that I can make the ache go away?”

“That’s— Oh, god.” She moans when I nip at her earlobe. “Blurring lines,” she finally says.

“We’re having a baby together. Neither one of us are seeing other people. I’m the perfect person to help you out with this. I’m here for anything and everything you need, Maggie. Even this. All you have to do is tell me what you need.” I kiss down her neck, and her breath shudders.

“I need you to take the ache away.”

“There’s my girl,” I say, pressing my lips to hers. I take my time tasting her. It’s been too damn long since our night together, but her taste is everything I remember. Her lips are soft as they mold with mine. “Lie back,” I whisper against her mouth. I stand from the couch and let her get situated, then reach down, tug her leggings over her hips, and toss them to the floor. Her panties are next. I should take her to her room, but I don’t trust myself to not take this too far. She asked for relief, and that’s what I’m going to give her.

Kneeling on the floor, I run my hand up her legs and settle between her thighs. “Open for me, Mags.” She does as I ask, spreading her legs just a little, giving me enough room to explore her with ease.

“Is all this for me?” I ask as I slide my fingers over her clit.

“I—Yes.” She nods.

“How long has this been going on, Maggie?”

“A few weeks,” she confesses, covering her face with her palms.

With my free hand, I gently pull one hand and then the other from her face. “No hiding. Not from me. Not ever.”

“Okay,” she replies softly.

“My mouth or my fingers? Tell me what you want.”

“You decide.”

“My baby momma needs me to take care of her, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what she wants. Tell me, Momma. What do you need?” Bending my head, I place a kiss on her belly, over where our child grows inside her. I want to remind her that we’ve been here before, and fuck me, if I had my way, we’d be here often. She’s so damn wet for me.

“Mouth. I want your mouth.”

“Good girl. Turn my way.” She does as I ask, and I settle between her thighs. “Move down a little,” I instruct, and she wiggles until her ass is hanging off the couch. “I was craving something sweeter than ice cream,” I say as I dip my head and take my first taste of the night. She moans, and the sound goes straight to my dick.

I start slowly, tracing my tongue through her folds, and when I reach her clit, I suck gently. Her hips buck off the couch. Her hands find their way to my hair, and she grips tightly. I welcome the pain, knowing it’s only because of the pleasure I’m bringing her.

Over and over again, I bring her to the edge, only to back off, causing her to groan in frustration. I don’t know if I’ll ever be here again, like this with her, so I’m taking my fill, but I also know she needs this, so this time, when my tongue massages her clit, I don’t stop until she’s crying out my name.

When the last tremors work through her body, I stand and lift her into my arms. “What are you doing?”

“Putting you to bed.” She doesn’t argue as I carry her down the short hallway and step into her room. After placing her on the bed, I step back, adjust my cock, and smile down at the dopey, satisfied expression on her face. “Where are your sleep clothes?”

She points to a T-shirt at the end of the bed, and I freeze when I hold it up and realize it’s mine. “My little thief.” I chuckle.

“Something to remember that night,” she counters.

My hand moves to rest on her belly. “You gave me something too.” I kiss her lips, just a gentle peck. “I’m going to go clean up while you get changed. I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” Another peck to her lips and I force myself to walk out of her room, and clean up our ice cream mess. I turn off the TV, grab her a bottle of water, and head back to her room.

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