But after having witnessed her go through that labor, Rohan would never ask her to do anything that might hurt her already raw flesh. He would rather die without ever finding release than put his wife through any form of discomfort.
As he approached her, Belle reclined against the headboard behind her, her face pink and her breath quick for reasons he already knew. Rohan crossed over to her and sat himself down next to her.
She moved closer, nestling into him and hooking her arm around his, causing him to turn toward her at his side. He felt the graze of her breast against his arm, and his body tensed, curling with tension and heat so intense his breathing seemed to turn labored. He wanted to move away, but he liked the feeling of her soft bosom too much to deprive himself of it. Instead, he found himself moving even closer.
"What is it?" he questioned, his voice a deep, low husk.
