ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 58

RITA

I wake up to Roman spooning me Again.

His brawny arm is heavy around my waist, compressing me into his warmth like I'm part of him. His breath ghosts over my neck — tranquil but hot.

"Roman," I whisper, my voice droopy with sleep. "Let me go, please." My fingers tug at his arm, but he only tightens his hold, obstinate as always.

"Just five more minutes," he mumbles, his words tinged with sleep and guileless affection. He buries his face in my hair, pulling me closer. The gesture would merit tenderness — if it didn't make me feel like I was scorching.

He's just so hot. Quite literally.

"No," I mutter, wriggling. "I want to get up." My tone sharpens, and he exhales — a defeated, vexatious sound escaping his lips — before finally letting go.

When I sit up, I feel his sleepy gaze follow me. I pad toward the bathroom, one hand on my swollen belly. Mia's still asleep somewhere down the hall, in a guest bedroom, and I promised myself I'd check on her.

I shower quickly, the water cascading over my body, flooding me with serenity. When I emerge wrapped in my bathrobe, Roman is already inside — shirtless, droopy-eyed, and smug as he sees me smiling in my thoughts.

"Why are you up so early?" he asks, taking his boxers off. "You usually sleep until noon."

I glance — and instantly regret it. The sight always flushes me, especially his cock in the morning. My teeth graze my bottom lip before my tongue slides over it, and I look up, catching the smirk flicking across his lips.

"You want my dick inside you, baby?" he asks, a teasing query that makes my skin heat ludicrously fast.

"Not this morning," I mutter and decline, though it's very hard to say no to his hardness. "I just want to check on your sister. She looked uneasy last night."

I reach for my toothbrush.

He steps closer, his grin both tender and mischievous. "You're a munificent woman," he says, kissing my temple. "But she'll survive two more hours without you."

"Two hours?" I arch a brow, inquisitive and wary. "That's a long time. What exactly are we supposed to do?"

His grin deepens. "We can take a shower... and fuck." He says it so nonchalantly that it makes my breath hitch.

"You want to bone me for two hours in the shower?" I stare at him, incredulous. "You realize pregnancy makes me lazy, right? I can barely lift a leg."

He laughs softly, undeterred. "Then we can do it on the bed," he offers, stepping toward me with hunger in his eyes.

Before he can untie my robe, I raise a hand and point a finger at him.

"Stop." I meet his eyes in the mirror, toothpaste foaming in my mouth, my expression as obdurate as his determination to take me this morning.

"I already showered," I say after rinsing, "and I don't plan on doing it again."

"Without me?" he asks, frowning.

"You wanted five more minutes of sleep," I remind him, shrugging.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Correction — I wanted five more minutes holding you before you wiggled your way out of my arms and waddled to the bathroom."

"I felt hot," I protest simply.

"You are hot," he murmurs, followed by a groan. "But the fact that you're carrying my child? That's what makes you hotter."