Page 21 of The Chains that Bind
The bedroom is just as we left it—sheets still rumpled from her earlier rest, the scent of her lingering in the air. I lower her to the bed with unexpected gentleness, watching as her hair fans out across the pillows, her robe parting to reveal glimpses of the body I've been starved for.
"Beautiful," I murmur, standing at the foot of the bed, drinking in the sight of her. "Even more beautiful knowing you're carrying my child."
Her hand moves unconsciously to her stomach, a protective gesture that awakens something primal and possessive inside me. My woman. My child. My future.
"The pregnancy doesn't erase our problems," she says, but her voice lacks conviction, her body already softening against the mattress in anticipation.
"No," I agree, surprising her. "But it gives us the perfect reason to solve them. To build something stronger for our child. For our family."
I untie the drawstring of my pants, letting them fall to the floor. Her eyes widen as she takes in my naked form, the clear evidence of how much I want her. eighteen months apart haven't diminished my hunger for her in the slightest.
"Last chance to say no," I offer, though we both know she won't. Can't. Not when her body is already calling to mine, her scent heavy with arousal, her lips parted in anticipation.
"I—" She struggles visibly with herself, with the last remnants of resistance. "This is just physical. It doesn't mean I'm staying."
I smile, knowing and predatory. "We'll see."
In one fluid movement, I'm on the bed, pushing her robe fully open to expose her body completely. I take my time exploring her, relearning the terrain I once knew better than my own. The slight hollow at the base of her throat that makes her gasp when I press my lips to it. The sensitive spot just below her right breast that causes her to arch when I trace it with my tongue. The delicate insides of her wrists where her pulse hammers visibly beneath translucent skin.
"Knox," she moans, impatience threading through her voice as I deliberately avoid the places she needs me most. "Stop teasing."
"Not teasing," I correct, my mouth tracing a path across her ribs. "Reclaiming. Every. Inch."
Each word is punctuated with a kiss, moving lower until I reach her stomach. Here I pause, pressing my lips reverently against the place where our child grows. The knowledge that she carries my baby inside her hits me again with the force of a physical blow. Nothing in my life—not building my empire, not amassing billions, not anything—compares to the fierce, primitive pride of seeing my woman round with my child.
"Mine," I whisper against her skin, and I feel the shiver that runs through her at the word.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me up to meet her eyes. "If we do this," she says, her voice unsteady but determined, "it doesn't change our situation. It doesn't give you ownership."
I hover above her, supporting my weight on my forearms, my face inches from hers. "It acknowledges what already exists, Seraphina. You've been mine since the moment we met. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can stop fighting and start building our future."
Before she can argue further, I claim her mouth in a kiss that brooks no argument, no denial. This time there's nothinggentle about it—this is possession, pure and simple. My tongue demands entry, dominating the kiss completely, showing her exactly what's coming.
When I finally release her mouth, she's breathless, eyes glazed with desire. "I hate how much I want you," she admits, the words clearly torn from her against her will.
"No," I counter, positioning myself between her thighs, feeling her heat against me. "You hate how right it feels. How perfect. How inevitable."
With one powerful thrust, I enter her, both of us groaning at the sensation of being joined again after so long apart. She's tight, slick, perfect—her body welcoming me home even as her mind continues its futile resistance.
"Knox!" she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body adjusts to the intrusion.
I remain still, buried to the hilt inside her, giving her time to accommodate me. "Tell me you missed this," I demand, my voice rough with restrained desire. "Tell me no one has ever filled you like I do."
"I—I can't," she whispers, but her body betrays her, inner muscles clenching around me in welcome.
"Liar." I withdraw almost completely before driving back into her with deliberate force, setting a rhythm designed to break down her remaining defenses. "Your body knows the truth even when your mouth won't admit it."
Each thrust emphasizes my words, my hands pinning hers above her head, establishing my dominance in the most primal way possible. She fights it at first, testing my hold, but soon surrenders to the pleasure building between us, her legs wrapping around my waist to draw me deeper.
"That's it," I encourage, adjusting the angle to hit the spot that always makes her wild. "Take what you need, angel. Take what only I can give you."
Her body responds instinctively, rising to meet each thrust, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. I know her body so well—know exactly how to drive her to the edge without pushing her over, how to keep her suspended in pleasure until she's mindless with it.
"Please," she finally begs, all pretense of resistance gone. "Knox, please!"
"Please what?" I demand, slowing my movements to an excruciating tease. "Say it, Seraphina. Tell me what you need."
Her eyes flash with momentary defiance before desire overwhelms pride. "Make me come. Please, I need—I need?—"
