“I’m already there.”
“No, but you will be soon.”
He arched up with his hips and used the steel rod between his legs to caress her intimate flesh.
She arched and cried out as his head brushed right over her swollen clitoris. “I want you inside me!”
“Soon.” Before she had a chance to complain, he grabbed her corselet-covered waist and shifted her
so the opening to her body was poised directly where it needed to be. He brought her down and surged
up all in one movement, which elicited a scream of pure pleasure from her and a matching agonized
groan from him.
Her restraint broke and she started rocking against him with pure intent. He met her thrust for thrust
until they climaxed together, their bodies caught in the rigor mortis of la petite mort for long seconds of
bliss so complete, his vision went dark at the edges.
She collapsed against his chest, breathing so hard he got a little worried. He immediately started
working on the ties of the corselet, getting it off of her faster than he was sure she’d managed to get
into it.
The red marks where it had pressed into her skin were sexy, but he shook his head. “No more
corselets or corsets, either, not until after the baby is born.”
She fluttered her hand at him, so sated her eyes were mere slits of presleeping exhaustion.
“Whatever.”
“Thank you. You give the best gifts.”
“I try,” she slurred against his chest.
She was sleeping by the time he carried her to the bed and tucked her between the sheets, wrapping
her securely in his arms.
Piper woke the next morning with a not-so-pleasant feeling of nausea. She groaned and swallowed
convulsively as the sensation grew acute when she tried to sit up. She fell back on the bed, but that
didn’t help. Neither did Zephyr’s big arm landing over her middle.
“Ugh…get off, Zee.”
“Huh?” He sat straight up in bed, giving her a look of intense inquiry. The man was almost inhuman
sometimes. “What is the matter?”
“The baby is finally making itself felt.”
He frowned. “You look pale. Are you okay?” His brain seemed to catch up with his mouth and he
asked, “What do you mean?”
“Morning nausea.”
His expression cleared instantly and he jumped out of the bed with entirely too much energy. “I read
about that. There are several recommendations, but the most popular is flat ginger ale and soda
crackers. I’ve got some in the kitchen on standby.”
“You’ve got flattened ginger ale on hand in the kitchen?” she asked, for the moment her incredulity
winning over the morning sickness.
“Of course. It’s Canada Dry, so there’s actually ginger in the beverage. That’s what is supposed to help.
I’ve got the necessary inventory for the other suggestions as well, but let’s try the crackers and pop
first.”
“Fine.”
He was gone less than a minute before returning with a small package of saltines and a glass of amber
liquid. “Take small sips and eat at least five crackers slowly before trying to sit up again.”
She did and was thrilled when her next attempt to get out of bed was met with a much more mild form
of queasiness. “It helped.”
“Good. Now that you’ll be sleeping with me every night, I can make sure you have what you need in the
morning to keep from feeling too ill.”
She smiled at his reiteration that there would be no more nights spent apart. “You’ve gotten spoiled to
having me available for your nightlong cuddle.” For a man who had never had a serious relationship, he
was a professional cuddler.
“And I can watch over you.”
“Right. This minute, you can watch me take a shower, or join me for one. Your choice.”
She wasn’t the least surprised when he was right behind her stepping into the decadently spacious
glassed-in cubicle.
They spent the day enjoying their newly married status and packing for Greece. Everything was rosy
until Zephyr had the realization that morning sickness might translate to airsickness. He paced their
living room before dinner, reiterating his litany of worries and hinting that maybe they should change
their plans.
That was not going to happen.
“I never get nauseated while flying,” she tried to assure him.
“But now you have morning sickness.”
“Which appears to be limited to mornings, for which I am very grateful.”
“I’m thankful for that as well, but we cannot be sure—”
“And we can’t prevent it happening by worrying about it, either.”
“We should never have planned this wedding blessing in Greece.”
Oh, he did not just go there. “You told me that you always expected to get married in Greece, no matter
who you ended up married to.” And she wasn’t letting him lose that dream. Full stop. Period.
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