The trip to Brighton had helped. So had the conversation with Willow when they’d returned home.
Suddenly, he’d become aware of everything. Dust motes in a ray of sunshine. The scent of water. How cool the air became when he opened the fridge door. The texture of his sheet against his skin. And he didn’t want that to end.
Because, for once in his life, he felt an ease and comfort in his own skin that surpassed anything artificial stimulants could provide.
“Happy album release day,” Willow mumbled from beneath his arm and the covers bundled up over her.
How had he momentarily forgot, so caught up in simply being, that the day they had all worked for was finally here? His stomach flipped with excitement.
“Thank you,” he said, pressing his nose to the side of her neck before kissing her. “Happy Fourth of July.”
Her body moved against his, a sudden flare of awareness that she was naked, and he had at least an hour before he had to be out the door to the BBC Studios at Salford Quays for their first interview of the day.
“Slide this up over my thigh, flower,” he said, pulling her leg back so she opened for him. Pleasure flowed through him as she did what he said, leaving her open to his exploration. He rubbed his hand over her stomach. There was no hiding her bump now, and watching it grow, watching Willow’s body change, feeling it beneath his fingertips and lips was intoxicating.
He’d Googled it, whether it was normal for a man to be that turned on by his partner’s pregnant body. He’d been surprised to find a split. Those who found the changes a turn off, and those, like him, who felt their attraction to their partners grow. For him, it was the intimacy of it. Something they’d created, something she was doing for the three of them.
It was raw.
And inspiring.
He slid his hand lower, easing to her clit and lips, a slow and steady slide over her. Not paying attention to any one area in particular. When she sighed and lazily rolled her hips so her arse pressed up against his dick, he tensed.
“Stay still,” he grumbled.
“It feels good.” He could hear the happiness in her voice.
“I know, flower. Roll onto your back a little more. I need a little more space to work my magic.”
She did as he said, turning her face to his as she did so. He loved her lips in the morning. So fucking soft, he could nibble on them. “You get me every time,” he muttered as he kissed her, finding it hard to believe the way she responded to him.
Their tongues met, unhurried.
Fucking hot.
He slid his index finger inside her, catching her exhale in his breath.
“Luke,” she sighed.
Rising onto his elbow, he kissed the curve of her breast, savouring the slightly salty taste of her skin. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, her back arched off the bed. Yeah, he knew that combination was her Kryptonite. Finger deep, and hard draws on her breast. He could feel every flinch and spasm as her body took over.
Leading her to the edge, he loved watching her fall over.
Normally, he’d go lower. Lick and suck on a different set of lips so he could be right in the heat of her when she came. But today, he just wanted to kiss her.
He moved back to her face. Kissing her cheek, the tip of her nose. Her eyelids. Even her forehead before he returned to her smile.
“Kiss me, flower,” he instructed, and she did as he said, her hand lazily slipping around the back of his head to hold him to her.
Increasing his strokes, he added another finger. Circled her clit with his thumb. And he matched the slide of his tongue to his fingers.
“Luke,” she cried.
Willow’s breath shortened to gasps. Kissing her as she fell apart was his favourite thing. As she battled the need to cry out with the need for his mouth against hers. When she forgot about absolutely everything except her own release.
He fucking loved it.
And shit.
He loved her.
The realisation almost as intense as her orgasm.
It wasn’t like. It wasn’t even pure lust. He couldn’t lie to himself any more than she could hide the way she fell apart in his arms.
“Good morning,” she muttered, breathlessly.
Luke rolled onto his back. “Ride me, flower.”
Willow did as he asked, reaching between them to hold his cock before easing down on him.
“Fuck. That feels good,” he said, reaching for her hips. He watched as her lips spread around his cock as she eased up and then soaked him as she lowered. Her hips rolled as she seated herself, grinding her clit against him.
While her arms and waist remained the same, her breasts felt larger, and heavy in his hands. And her stomach. Fuck.
“Faster?” she asked, her eyes focused on him.
“Nah. Slow. I want to fuck you good and slow and deep this morning.”
Willow smiled, and it knocked him on his arse. Well, figuratively, as he was already flat on his back, but who the fuck cared. “That sounds good,” she said, planting her palms on his chest.
He released her hip and cupped her face. “I could lose myself in you, Will.”
Her eyes flickered shut for a moment, as she eased down on him, seating him so deep inside, he could feel her pulse around him. For a second, he wondered if it was possible to come just from that pressure alone.
“I’m pretty certain we aren’t losing ourselves, Luke. I think we are finding ourselves.”
“So fucking wise.” His palms travelled along her spine to her arse, then back again, pulling her down until they were flush. Her breasts and stomach pushed up against him.
He kissed her as he moved a fraction, a slight withdrawal, a reseating. Just enough motion and friction to keep him on the edge, but hitting Willow exactly where she needed it.
Their eyes met. Focused. Intense. He couldn’t see anything but her. Didn’t want anyone but her. “I love you, Willow,” he gasped, feeling every part of her on him, the scent of her around him.
“You do?” she asked. The crack in her voice slicing through his heart.
“Yeah, flower. I do. I love you. Don’t go anywhere, yeah? At least, not without me.”
Willow placed her forehead on his shoulder. The sound she made was part sob, part gasp. Then, he felt the shudders, through her ribs, beneath his fingers. And he pulled her closer, held her tighter, wanting to take whatever had upset her away. Tears tingled in his eyes, and holy shit, somehow sex had turned into something . . .
Soul baring. Or soul destroying.
“Don’t cry, flower. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” The words were muffled but he heard them all the same.
He reached for her cheeks and lifted her head gently. When he saw the tears, he brushed them away with his thumbs. “Explain to me why you’re crying.”
“Happy tears,” she confirmed. “A bit overwhelmed. Slightly orgasmic. You love me. And I’m pretty sure I love you. It’s scary. And incredible. And overwhelming. And not how I thought I wanted it to go.”
Luke kissed her chastely. “That’s a lot of thinking and feeling.”
“For seven o’clock in the morning, it most definitely is. But I do love you.”
He rolled them over, so she was beneath him, and began to move. “I still don’t understand how everything I thought I didn’t want ended up becoming everything I need, but I’m fucking glad you are here and that we get to do this together.”