He watched for a minute. He’d never seen anything as purely seductive as his wife making love to herself. He’d loved her round body before she was pregnant. When she was pregnant. And now as well. If anything, his desire for her had only grown.
“Jessica.”
Her eyes popped open.
“I called the doctor. He—”
“He can go to hell.” Her face was turning the clear red of an infuriated blonde.
“Kitten, the doctor said—”
“I don’t give a damn. I don’t give a damn about anything you say either, you-you asshole Dom.” She picked up the dildo and threw it violently. At him.
The toy stung his palm as he caught it.
“Now shove it up your ass,” she hissed like the kitten he called her.
As he walked over to the bed, he could feel her anger beating at him. And then it was washed away by her sense of loss…her feeling that she’d gone too far with her words and actions. That she’d destroyed what they had. That she’d lost him.
Losing him would never happen.
Her belief that mere words could break them apart showed his failure as a Dom. “That’s enough, kitten.”
She sat up on the bed and glared at him.
Her hair was loose and made a convenient leash when wrapped around his hand. He used it to tilt her head back so he could take her mouth and silence further insults.
After a second of struggle, she…surrendered. So completely that he felt his chest squeeze with the sweet ache. Her lips were warm and soft and giving.
Still gripping her hair, he lifted her hands, one by one, to suck on the fingers, taking in the tantalizing musky taste.
As he kissed her again, her arms came around his neck, and he could feel her other emotions disappear under a growing urgency.
The bullet vibrator still buzzed away beside her, he realized. And it would be a shame to waste available resources. So, before he did anything else, he’d remove the sexual frustration that had caused her emotional storm—and also take the opportunity to remind her that her orgasms came at his discretion.
When he placed the vibrator in her palm, despair filled her eyes…until his hand covered hers and moved the toy to her pussy.
When the vibrations struck her clit, her body tensed.
Very nice. Taking his time, holding her in place by her hair, he kissed her, even as he controlled her hand, directing the bullet to one side of her clit, then the other.
As she started to pant, her hips rose to meet the stimulus.
“I love you, Jessica,” he murmured.
“I love y—”
He moved her hand to set the vibrator on the very top of her clit and…pressed down.
Her neck arched. “Aaaaah.”
Although he’d never forgotten how stunning she was when she came, each time still stopped his heart.
As her pulse slowed, Jessica opened her eyes…and met Z’s gray ones.
He’d released her hair. He wasn’t smiling. And he was studying her in a way that sent her pulse skyrocketing again.
She swallowed. “What?”
“What, indeed.” His voice was low. Ominous. Sorrowful. “As I recall, you threw a dildo at me.” His lips quirked. “You called me names without having the excuse of being in labor.”
Still fully dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed. “In addition, you tried to manipulate me into doing what you wanted, rather than what I thought was right.”
Uh-oh. Anne had warned her about his probable reaction. “Very few men can resist seeing a woman taking pleasure into her own hands. The difference here is that, once Z is thinking, he’ll completely understand that you were topping from the bottom. You might not like what follows.”
She might have been all right if she’d done what Anne had suggested. The trouble was, she’d gone further. Had snarked at him. Then lost her temper and yelled at him. And thrown a toy at him.
Unable to meet his eyes, she dropped her gaze.
She’d tried to push him into having sex—and she knew full well he didn’t want to. Might never want to again. Who would, after all? Tears filled her eyes. She was such a cow and—
“What in the world are you thinking?” With a hand on her chest, he pushed her onto her back. When she fought to sit back up, he bracketed her wrists with his right hand and pinned her arms above her head.
“Stop it!” She struggled. “Don’t. I don’t want to—”
“Jessica. Stop.” The command in his deep, rich voice halted her completely. Cupping her chin in his hand, he ran his thumb over her wet cheek.
Blinking back more tears, she stared up at him. Whatever was wrong with her? Throwing fits because she didn’t get her way? And blaming Z? He’d only been trying to protect her. Had deprived himself as well.