SHARON’S POV I rolled my hips again, slow at first, feeling every thick inch of Morris stretch me open until my thighs trembled against his sides. The lamp on his nightstand painted his chest in soft gold, highlighting the sweat already beading along his collarbones. His hands gripped my waist, not guiding, just holding on like he needed the anchor while I rode him at my own pace. I braced my palms flat on his pecs, nails digging in just enough to make him hiss through his teeth.“Fuck, Sharon,” he groaned, head tipping back against the pillow. “You’re killing me.”I smiled down at him, sharp and a little mean, the way I knew he secretly loved. “Good, I want you dead on this pussy.”Pregnancy had done strange things to my body. My breasts felt heavier, nipples constantly sensitive, hips wider, but the strength surprised even me. My core muscles clamped down hard around him every time I lifted and sank, and I watched his eyes widen each time I did it, like he couldn’t quite believe I
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