Chapter Seventy One

His mouth brushed her cheek, sweeping along her cheekbone till she could feel his breath warm on the shell of her ear then moving back, back to her waiting lips, slowly, deliberately until only a whisper separated them, till his mouth was so close to hers that she was giddy with expectation, filled with want —deep, burning want, a want that suffused her, a want she had never, even in their most intimate moments, experienced, and he hadn’t even kissed her. Her breath was coming in short, unyielding gasps, his chest so close to hers that if she breathed any deeper their bodies would touch.

It was the pregnancy, she thought. Everything seemed to be heightened. 

She was torn between want and dread, her body longing to arch towards his, her nipples stretching like buds to the sun, his hand still on the wall behind her head, and all she wanted was his touch.

As if in answer, his mouth found hers, the weight of his body pushing her do