I tilt my head to look at his face, which is strained, his forehead bunched up almost in concentration. It hits me that he’s still holding back, even after all that.
I curse and reach around to dig my nails into the firm globe of his ass this time, both encouraging his movements and giving him the barest taste of what he needs.
With a shudder, he slams into me one final time as his breath breaks out of him in a rush. Even his thighs quiver between mine. I can’t help but feel a little proud of myself after that reaction.
“Feel better?” I ask and nibble on his earlobe.
With a huff, he shoves off the bed to get clear of my body. A chill courses over my skin, and I roll to get a look at him.
His back is to me, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s angry right now. “What’s wrong?”
He spins to look at me, his mouth set in a grim line. “You pushed me, and I could have hurt you.”
I stretch, languid and sleepy. “But you didn’t. I’m fine.”
“That’s not the fucking point, Valentina. I told you what I wanted, and you pushed for more until I could do nothing but give it to you.”
Okay. Hold up. I roll to sit on the bed and pull the covers over my nudity. Fighting naked is never fun…unless it’s a game. By the set of his shoulders, games are the last thing on his mind. “You’re mad at me for…what? Seducing you?”
His expression is hard to read. It’s somehow a mix of scorn and anger, but I’m not really sure. Either way, it pisses me off. What we just did is still scorching every inch of my body. In fact, if he didn’t look so mad right now, I’d try to entice him into another round.
I wave at him. “Is this our life now? No more good sex because you’re afraid to hurt me.”
“It’s not that simple.”
I pull the covers tighter against me, and he scans me from my toes poking over the edge of the bed to my rumpled hair. “I’m calling the doctor in to check on you and make sure you weren’t hurt.”
It takes everything in me not to throw the pillows at his face. “Do you want me to clean up first, or are you going to have him examine me with your cum still dripping from my body? While you’re at it, are you going to have him look at the lines I left on your back and your ass? At least those might be considered actual injuries.”
He stops typing on his phone and stalks toward the bed. “Watch your fucking attitude, Valentina. I am being patient with you because you’re carrying my child, but keep pushing when I tell you to stop, and I’ll have to resort to other punishments.”
“Like tying me up?” I hold my wrists together and thrust them toward him. “I don’t know, that sounds kind of kinky. I might be into it.”
Memories of my arms going numb, of being tied to a bed for days return, and I let my hands fall to my lap. All at once, when I think I’m okay, that I’ll forget what Sal did to me, the memories flash in my mind, reminding me I’ll never be free of him.
Unaware of my inner turmoil, Adrian huffs out an angry breath and continues typing on his phone.
“I don’t need a doctor,” I say breezily, trying to grab at my playfulness again. “You don’t have to drag him out of bed this late to do nothing but check my blood pressure because we both know you aren’t going to allow him to get anywhere near my lady parts.”
He blinks and looks up at me like he hadn’t considered having a baby means a medical professional will eventually be all up in my business.
I scoot forward, dragging the sheet off me and shoving his shirt off so I’m naked in front of him. When I approach, he steps backward until he bumps into the nightstand. His eyes are locked on my bare breasts, and I don’t mind the staring, not with that hungry look on his face.
Then he seems to shake himself. “Knock it off, Valentina. I’m serious. I won’t risk harming you or my son. Not for something like rough sex. Not when we can be careful or just wait until you deliver.”
I throw my hands up in frustration and spin away, so I don’t have to look at him. Because I’m pretty sure I’ll say something I’ll regret if he keeps giving me the feral look I know he’s not going to act on. And worse, if I push him to it, he’s going to blame me for his actions.
I don’t know if it’s the hormones or my reality crashing down around me, but suddenly, I feel very alone. A far cry from the cherished, loving feeling I had before. He doesn’t want a partner; he wants an incubator.