Chapter158 How much I want to be inside you properly

Chapter158 How much I want to be inside you properly
Chloe

I thought about how far we'd come—from that cold marriage contract signed in a sterile office to this moment, wrapped in each other's arms with our child growing between us.

I thought about Ethan finding his own path to happiness, about Kim's nervous excitement, about all the ways our family was expanding and shifting.

But mostly I thought about this man who held me like I was precious and looked at me like I hung the stars, who seemed to need me as much as he needed air to breathe.

"I love you," I said suddenly, the words surprising us both with their intensity.

Julian's eyes darkened further, and he pulled back just enough to look at me properly.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough with emotion and want.

"I love you," I repeated, and this time he captured my lips with his, the kiss hungry and desperate and full of everything we couldn't say with words.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Julian's eyes were almost black with desire. "I love you too," he said fiercely. "All of you. More than I knew was possible."

Julian held me close on the terrace for another long moment, his lips finding mine again before he finally swept me up in his arms, carrying me across the threshold into our bedroom.

He set me down gently beside our bed, amber eyes dark with desire but tempered with an almost reverent caution.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he murmured, his voice rougher than usual. "I can see something in your eyes."

I placed my hand over his where it rested against my cheek, feeling the slight tremor in his fingers that betrayed how much he was restraining himself.

"I'm thinking about how much I want you," I admitted, heat flooding my cheeks. "But I'm also thinking about the baby, about what we can and can't—"

"Chloe." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, silencing my anxious rambling. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. The doctor said everything was fine medically, but after what happened—the kidnapping, the scare at the hospital—I can't shake the fear of hurting you or our baby."

"I'm not worried about that," I interrupted, then bit my lip as I tried to find the right words. "I'm worried about... disappointing you. About not being able to give you what you need because of these limitations."

Something shifted in Julian's expression, a flash of such tender understanding that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. He cupped my face in both hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Listen to me very carefully," he said, his voice low and fierce. "There is nothing—nothing—you could do or not do that would disappoint me. Do you understand? You're carrying our child. You're already giving me everything I never knew I wanted."

The sincerity in his voice broke through my remaining hesitation. After everything we'd been through—the fear of losing each other, the terror of almost losing our baby—I needed to feel truly connected to him, to confirm that we were both here, both safe, both real.

I reached up to kiss him, pouring all my love and trust into the contact. He responded immediately, his arms encircling me as he deepened the kiss, but I could feel the careful control in every movement.

"Julian," I whispered against his lips. "I want to be close to you. All of you."

His breath hitched, and for a moment he simply stared at me, as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Then his hands moved to the hem of my loose sundress, his movements deliberate but gentle.

"We'll take this slowly," he said, even as his fingers began to lift the fabric. "Tell me if anything feels wrong."

Instead of answering with words, I raised my arms, allowing him to pull the dress over my head. The cool air kissed my skin, but Julian's heated gaze warmed me more than any fire could.

His hands immediately went to my slightly rounded belly, palms spreading protectively over the subtle curve where our child grew. The gesture was so tender, so full of wonder, that I felt tears prick at my eyes.

"Our baby," he murmured, almost to himself. "I still can't quite believe it."

I covered his hands with mine, intertwining our fingers over my stomach. "Believe it," I said softly. "We're going to be parents, Julian. A real family."

The words seemed to unlock something in him. His carefully maintained composure began to crack at the edges. His lips found mine again, hungrier this time, while his hands mapped my body with increasing urgency.

"I need you," he breathed against my throat, his voice strained. "God, Chloe, I need you so much it terrifies me."

I could feel his internal battle in the way his fingers trembled against my skin, in the careful distance he maintained even as his body pressed closer to mine.

"Then have me," I whispered, my hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "But Julian... don't treat me like I'm made of glass. I'm pregnant, not broken."

His eyes flashed with something dark and possessive, but I saw the war playing out behind them—desire battling with protective instinct.

"I want all of you," I continued, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. "Not your careful, controlled version."

What followed was a delicate balance of passion and protection, Julian's instincts to shield me and our baby ultimately guiding every touch. He led us onto the bed, arranging me on my side with infinite care, his body curving around mine from behind.

"This way," he murmured in my ear, his arm sliding beneath my head while the other settled possessively over my hip. "This way I won't put any weight on you or the baby."

His words cut off as I arched back against him, feeling his sharp intake of breath when our bodies aligned. The position was new, intimate in a different way, and I could feel every inch of him pressed against my back, his desire evident but carefully contained.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice tight with the effort of maintaining control even as his hand began to trace patterns on my skin.

"More than okay," I managed, my voice already breathless. "Julian, please..."

His response was to press open-mouthed kisses to my shoulder while his hand moved lower, finding all the places that made me gasp and arch against him. But I could sense his frustration in the rigid line of his spine, the way his jaw clenched as he held himself back from what we both craved.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against my ear, his skilled fingers drawing soft moans from my lips. "So perfect. Do you have any idea what you do to me? How much I want to—" He cut himself off with a harsh exhale, his forehead dropping to rest between my shoulder blades.

"How much you want to what?" I asked breathlessly, sensing his internal struggle.

"How much I want to be inside you properly," he admitted, his voice rough with barely contained longing. "How much I want to make love to you the way we both need, without having to hold back, without having to be so damn careful all the time."