"Mmphh!" He doesn't even leave a moment before his kiss is nothing like before—
Gone was the stillness, the restraint.
This was a storm breaking.
"unnmmh…" The faint sound escaped me as his mouth moved over mine, melting through the cool morning air. His lips pressed, angled, tasting me slowly before catching my lower lip between his and sucking just enough to make my knees weaken—even though I was already beneath him.
Every brush pulled me closer into that deepness where breathing didn't matter anymore.
I parted for him, and he took it—his tongue sliding against mine in a heated sweep that made my heart beat in my throat.
My eyes widened—he was finally moving, finally touching me—and before I could savour it, the world tilted beneath me.
I felt my back sink into the grass, the cool blades crushed under my shoulder blades, the sweet scent of wildflowers rising with his weight above me. His chest pressed to mine, steady but burning, his breath spilling warm over the seam of my mouth between kisses—until something hotter, heavier, settled along my thigh.
It was impossible to ignore.
I dared to open my eyes. His lashes rested low, his brow tense, like giving in to even this cost him more than I could imagine.
That glimpse made something ache deep inside me.
My fingers curled into the rich thickness of his hair, guiding him closer until his mouth caught mine again—just a little rougher this time, his lips parting over mine, tongue glancing over the edge before sealing deep.
A low groan rumbled against my mouth, vibrating through my chest. His hips shifted, deliberate, dragging that heat along the bunched fabric between us. Each movement drew the skirt higher, the coarse weave rasping over my skin until cool morning air slipped under.
My breath came erratic now, breaking into soft whimpers against his mouth, only for him to swallow them like they were his.
His palm left my waist, sliding lower until his fingers found the hem of my gown. The sound of the fabric sliding upward brushed my ears as loud as my own heartbeat.
His mouth didn't falter—he kissed me slower now, almost savoring—until my gasp poured into him the moment I felt his skin against where I was already warm and restless for him.
"Mmh—" It tore from me before I could stop it, and I felt the corner of his mouth lift faintly against mine, as if he'd heard exactly what he wanted. His fingers cupped me with steady pressure, his thumb shifting lightly until I trembled against him.
Then—stillness.
His eyes opened, silver, searching mine for any hesitation.
I gave him none.
One leg parted wider beneath him, the other curling into his hip to pull him closer. My hand trailed down from his hair, over the hard planes of his chest, the flex of muscle beneath his shirt, down to where his heat pressed against me.
The moment my fingers closed over him, his mouth dragged from mine just enough for him to release a sharp breath, his forehead pressing briefly to mine.
Heat. Pure, pulsing heat under silk-smooth skin. His breadth filled my palm until my fingers couldn't close all the way, the steady thump of his blood against my touch as real as the beat of my own heart.
"Aah—" His gasp was quiet, but the weight in it shot through me.
I gave a slow, deliberate squeeze, my thumb gliding up the length until slick warmth met me at the tip. The texture there changed, soft and damp, and I felt him twitch in my hand as a shivery sound escaped his throat.
My own breath tangled, catching when he looked down at where I held him before meeting my eyes again.
I stroked again, slower, and his answer came in the form of his lips returning to mine—this time divinely messy, hungry, his teeth catching my lip before sucking it gently, as if that could anchor him in place.
Then his hand moved again, parting me—heat and tenderness drawn into every slow glide of his fingers. The pace between our touches kept in sync, a mirrored exchange that seemed to pull us deeper into each other's orbit.
The world narrowed to nothing but the wet sound of our mouths meeting, the deep rumble of his breath when my hand moved over him, the faint catches of my voice every time his touch sank into me.
Every stroke of my palm made his chest rise harder under my other hand.
Every sweep of his fingers pulled another broken sound from me.
My knee shifted, opening wider beneath him, and the subtle new angle drew his fingers deeper.
"Mmmhh—" I breathed it straight into his mouth, my lips parting helplessly against his.
"Ugh..." His answering groan was low, rough, and it vibrated into me as our mouths refused to break apart. We swallowed each other's sounds, the taste of them just another heat in this tangled mess.
His fingers moved again, slow but decisive, finding a rhythm that made my thigh tighten around his hip. Each glide carried a delicious press, his thumb brushing in lazy circles that had my back arching under him.
My hand worked around him with the same unhurried intent, running from base to tip in long, slow strokes. He shifted slightly, lifting his weight from my stomach so my hand could curl better around him, and it was like offering me more of him on purpose.
I didn't waste it.
My free hand slid from the back of his neck, down over the solid muscle of his side, until it joined the first—both my palms now gliding over that impossible heat and length, my fingers tightening in seamless turns.
His breath faltered against my lips, a broken "Ah—mm…" catching in his throat before he caught my mouth again, harder.
The kiss turned molten. His tongue pushed deeper, his lips sealing tight, as if the kiss itself kept him from losing control too quickly. The rest of him… no such restraint.
The fingers between my thighs pressed in, one sinking deep as I gasped into him, my muffled cry swallowed whole by his mouth.
At the same time, his other hand moved from the grass to my chest, sliding up the curve until his palm cupped me fully, his thumb grazing the point through my dress.
I moaned into his kiss—the sound trembling from my throat into his—and he answered with a deep groan that told me he was feeling every inch of what I was doing to him.
My wrists worked together, stroking him slow at first, then tightening just slightly at the top to feel the shiver travel through him.
His hips gave a small, uncontrolled jerk, and the way his mouth twitched against mine told me he'd felt it just as much as I had.
Then his hand at my breast squeezed, thumb pressing harder over the peak until his fingers between my legs coaxed another helpless "mhhnn" from my lips.
He deepened the kiss further, almost fierce now, as if drowning in the shared sound of our breathing.
His mouth crushed into mine again—desperate, messy, all breath and heat.
"Mmhhn—" My moan bled into his groan as our bodies tightened at the same time, the rhythm we'd been clinging to breaking apart.
He bit my lower lip just as I clung to his shoulders, my hands still working over him in quick, trembling strokes.
His fingers inside me curled one last time, thumb pressing at small clit, and that was it—
The world seemed to explode behind my eyes.
I cried into his mouth, my body shuddering as a rush of heat poured from me, spilling over his hand, soaking the grass beneath us.
His own breath broke on a jagged sound, and his release surged in thick, hot pulses, flooding into the folds of my dress where my hands still held him.
Neither of us let go of the kiss—we moaned into each other, mouths dragging, biting, swallowing the sounds.
My thighs trembled around him as they fell loosely apart. Even he, wetting both my arms with the hot fluid, collapsed onto my body.
His weight pressing down on me, his breath near my ear, just made me feel warmer as I confessed the truth to him.
"I... Haah... I am... I am pregnant, Javrian."