She was getting close.
“Told you what?” she asked.
He kept moving, slow, sweet, building it, loving it.
But he wasn’t going to give it until he got what he needed.
He dipped his mouth to hers, brushed her lips and whispered, “How you feel about me.”
Her pu**y clenched around his c**k and her voice was breathier when she said, “Right now, I really, really like you.”
And right now, he seriously liked her.
Then again, he always had.
He slid in deep, stayed there and encouraged, “Say it like it is, baby.”
Her body squirmed under his. “I just did.”
“Say what you really mean.”
“Okay, I really, really, really like you,” she breathed. “Now will you go back to moving?”
He grinned down into her gorgeous face but slid out to the tip and stayed there.
Her eyes opened further, not full, but he had her attention.
“Say what you really mean,” he repeated.
“Jacob,” she whispered.
“Say it, Emme.”
She squirmed more, her limbs tightening further, her h*ps seeking his cock, her hand fisting in his hair. “I need you back.”
“You got me,” he informed her. “Tell me what that means to you.”
“Jacob, seriously, I was close.”
He was getting there too. And now it was torture but he slid in then pulled out to the tip and again stayed there.
“Honey,” she begged, her voice and limbs now trembling.
“Say it, Emme.”
“Please.”
His hand cradling one side of her face shifted so he could rub his thumb over her lips as he whispered, “I know you feel it, baby. Say it.”
She lifted her head, sliding her cheek along his until her face was in his neck.
“Please give me you,” she whispered against his skin.
So sweet.
Torture.
He turned so his lips were at her ear. “You got me, baby. You know you’ve got me. Tell me what that means.”
“I mean I want you to give me a specific part of you.”
He grinned even as his body pulsed to be buried inside her but he held onto his control, though just barely.
“Give me what I want,” he demanded.
“Honey.”
“Give it to me, Emme.”
She shoved her face farther into his neck then turned her head, her fist in his hair loosening as she slid it to the back of his neck and said so quietly, even as close as she was, he barely heard her, “I love you, Jacob.”
Fuck.
Yes.
Deck drove in deep and she gasped into his ear, her hand sliding back up to clench in his hair.
“You love me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she panted.
He pulled out and drove in again.
Exquisite.
“Look at me and say it, baby.”
Her cheek slid back until her lips were against his, eyes open and so f**king close, that fire in them that said what her lips were about to utter was shining right there. So bright, so heated, he thought it would scorch him.
“I love you, honey.”
He took her mouth, took her cunt and took both until he took them both home.
After, planted deep inside his Emme, Deck ran his nose along her jaw and when his mouth found her ear, he murmured, “Love you too, baby.”
Her limbs, still tight around him, clamped.
She liked that.
She wanted it.
So much she was holding onto it with all she had.
And this was it.
This was “hey, puppy” for the rest of his life. This was knowing he had in his bed a woman who wanted medicine socialized and not giving a f**k. This was good family, hers and his, mingling to make it better. This was working until he never saw that surprised look on her face just before she came. This was having something warm snuggle into him while he read because he didn’t sleep.
This was a kaleidoscope of beauty, the dials spinning, ever changing, but never anything short of spectacular.
Deck lifted his head and looked down at her.
Tears were pooling in her beautiful eyes and her lower lip was quivering.
He’d never seen anything as beautiful.
And the kaleidoscope spun.
“Wanna build a life with you, Emmanuelle,” he whispered.
“Jacob,” she whispered back.
“And Buford needs a momma,” he declared as a tear slid out the side of her eye and a trembling smile touched her lips.
Deck caught her tear with his thumb, swept it across her cheek and rubbed the wetness against her lips.
Then he dipped his head and kissed her like he made love to her. Slow and sweet and for a very long time.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, she said quietly, “Now that you’ve rocked my world and blown my mind on top of us having minor roles in the miracle of birth tonight, all of which, I’ll note, I endured without dinner, I need to clean up and get some sleep, honey. You may be able to exist on a genius’s ration of shuteye, but I’m not that lucky and I’ve gotta go to work tomorrow.”
He chuckled, liking the look the movement this caused put on Emme’s face since he did it on her and in her. Then he dipped his head, kissed her jaw and gently slid out and off.
She rolled with him so she could touch her lips to his chest before she slid out of bed.
Deck watched her ass and legs as she walked to the bathroom.
Buford jumped up to claim his lion’s share of the bed before Emme got back.
After Emme climbed over him and Deck pulled up the covers, she settled into his side and claimed the lion’s share of Deck.
“ ’Night, honey,” she murmured sleepily into his chest, giving his stomach a squeeze as she did.
“ ’Night, baby,” he replied, pulling her closer, smelling strawberries.
She was dead weight within minutes.
Deck stared at the ceiling, the vision of Emme holding little Jacob seared in his brain.
So when his eyes closed, he fell asleep with his lips tipped up.
* * *
Emme
Thirty minutes later…
Forcing my body to stay relaxed just in case Deck woke to find me awake, I stared unseeing at Jacob’s chest.
And I was unseeing not just because it was dark.
All I could see was him holding Chace and Faye’s baby, cuddling him close to his big man’s body with his mighty arms, his head tipped down, his handsome face holding happiness and awe.
So beautiful.
Extraordinary.
Even profound.
Love you too, baby.
There the words came as they had again and again the last half an hour. His deep voice saying those words sounding in my head.