I nudge her legs further apart gently. Sliding between them, and fuck—I’ve been good. Patient. Careful.
But I’m not built for restraint.
Not with her.
Not when she’s lying here like this—her scent in my lungs, her pulse steady and soft, her mouth just barely parted.
My hands settle on either side of her. My hips rock forward.
The first push is everything. Hot. Tight. So fuckingrightI nearly lose my mind.
I sink into her slowly, inch by inch, until I’m buried inside her. Balls-deep. Caged by the heat of her and the weight of every fantasy I’ve ever tried to choke down.
And she doesn’t wake, not all the way.
Just breathes different. A soft hitch. Her brows pull slightly. Her mouth parts.
She sighs, and God help me, it sounds like my name.
I stay still inside her, savoring the stretch, the heat, the instinctive way her body clenches around me even in sleep.
Like she knows.
She’s going to carry my child.
It’s instinct and expectation.
It’s blood-deep and bone-engraved—something my father drilled into me before I even knew what sex was.
Legacy. Bloodline. Heir.
But it won’t be his name the child takes. No.
It’ll be hers.
Darling.
God, yes.
That name—sharp as glass and twice as dangerous—already sounds better in my mouth than Reyes ever did.
Let them carry her name. I’ll fucking change mine, if I have to. Legally. Publicly. I’ll burn the Reyes line to ash if it means building something with hers.
I move inside her slow and deep. Grinding at that perfect angle that makes her gasp even in unconsciousness.
“Good girl,” I whisper eventually, brushing hair from her cheek. “You know who’s inside you, don’t you.”
Her body answers before she does.
Clenching. Gripping. Pulling me deeper.
“You take me so well, princess,” I murmur, voice rough. “You’re made for this. Forme. Forus.”
This is different. It’s ritual and reverence.
“I don’t want to just come inside you. I want to stay there. Sink so deep I leave a part of me behind.”
Because SeannaDarlingis the only woman I’ve ever wanted to put a child in.