The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Eighteen

T H E  N E X T morning, Louelle woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in days. Although the level of exhaustion she felt was still lingering, she still had a burst of energy.

And the reasoning for the sudden energy she acquired?

Thatcher. All of him.

With everything that had been going on in the recent events of their lives, Louelle and Thatcher didn't have... "alone" time. Most of the interactions and conversations they had in the evening were those of serious matters regarding their future. But after his declarations of love to her, she wanted to make her own declaration of love... Physically.

She was uncertain where the sudden urge and need for him came from - perhaps it was the emotions she'd been feeling since the pregnancy grew longer. Whatever the cause of it had been, she wanted him closer. She needed to be showered in his wet kisses along her collarbone and neck; the feel of his hands firmly gripping her waist and thighs. She wanted his touch; his bare chest pressed against her own.

With all of the doubt she planted into her own head, she wanted to prove to him that, just as he mentioned, although the circumstances were not ideal for marriage, she was still wanting to marry him, too. As a little girl she wanted it, and at that time she assumed it was what friends had done. But as feelings for him grew and arose, she knew she wanted to marry him because it was decided she cannot live a life unless he was living his own life beside her.

As Louelle literally jumped his bones, Thatcher made attempts to pull her away - not that he didn't want to partake in the activities she had in mind. He did. He really did.

"My love," he breathed out as she laid a kiss right behind his ear.

She knew he liked that.

"You have been under stress lately, and with all of the reading I have done, I conclude it is not healthy for growing a healthy child," he continued, trying to reason with her. "I do not want to risk anything that will harm our unborn spawn."

She pulled back to look at him with a prideful gleam in her eyes. She was straddling his torso and although they still remained clothed at that point in time, it was a dangerous position for them to be in.

She wanted to rip him apart; bask in his sweet detail of attention when it came to her.

"You have done reading on pregnancy?" she wondered in both disbelief and awe.

He nodded in an almost bashful way. "I have. I only do not wish to add more stress to your body than it is already undergoing," he explained, but the need for her was growing as well as her need for him.

She untucked his shirt from the brais he wore as she stared at him flirtatiously through her eyelashes. He sucked in a sharp breath. Did she not hear what he'd said?

"What I am suggesting that we do is a reliever of stress for me," she reasoned. "The only riskful outcome for our next set of actions is that I fall with child." She grinned. "I fear it is too late for that. Do you agree?"