CHAPTER 225: THE SYMPHONY OF US [V]

High emotions coursed through me as I wrapped my arms around Adrien’s neck, hardly daring to believe this was real. When his hands roamed my curves, I felt a spark of excitement reignite within my core, even as a flicker of concern niggled at the back of my mind about the baby growing inside me. But the moment his lips claimed mine, all worries melted away, replaced by the intense, all-consuming passion that only Adrien could ignite within me.

In the heat of the moment, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. Adrien’s touch was electric, his kiss a symphony of desire that left me breathless and yearning for more. I shivered as his fingers danced along my spine, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

He lifted me again, carrying me the last steps to the bed. When he laid me down, the sheets were cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the fire building everywhere he touched. Adrien hovered over me, his breath ragged, his control stretched thin.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he rasped, his voice gravel and velvet.

"It won’t be," I whispered, pulling him down to me. "Not with you."

What followed was not rushed. He worshipped me, each kiss trailing lower, each caress deliberate, tasting and touching as though memorizing me. My body arched under his mouth, my fingers clenching the sheets as wave after wave of sensation built and crested. His thumb brushed over my nipple, teasing until it hardened, and I arched into his touch with a gasp. He lowered his mouth, taking my breast between his lips, sucking hard enough to draw a cry from my throat. His hand kneaded the other, thumb circling, tugging, until I writhed beneath him.

I parted for him without thought, my thighs opening wider. He pressed his palm against the heat between my legs, fabric of my panties still in the way, and I whimpered, hips jerking into his hand. He growled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin. "So eager," he muttered against my skin, voice low, and pushed two fingers inside me.

I moaned, my head falling back against the pillows as he began to move inside me, his fingers curling and stroking in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing up my spine. His thumb rubbed against my clit, the pressure building higher and higher until I was panting, my body trembling on the edge.

"Adrien," I gasped, my voice thin and desperate. "Please..."

He lifted his head, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "What do you need, Bella?" he asked, his voice a husky rasp.

I couldn’t form words, could only shake my head and arch my hips, seeking more of that incredible friction. He smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips, and sank his fingers deeper, hitting that tender spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids.

"Yes, just like that," I cried out, my back bowing off the bed as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. "Don’t stop..."

But he did, withdrawing his fingers with a torturous slowness that left me aching and wanting and sucked his fingers clean while holding my gaze, my whole body clenched around nothing. Before I could protest, he was pushing down my panties with his middle finger, tugging them off and throwing them aside.

"Ready for me, love?" he asked, his voice thick with need.

I nodded, too far gone to speak, my body throbbing in anticipation. I wrapped my legs around his hips, inviting him in.

And then—him. Heavy, hard, thick in his hand as he dragged himself against my folds, smearing me with my own need.

"Please," I whispered, breathless, trembling.

He didn’t tease long. The head of him nudged at my entrance, and slowly, inexorably, he pushed inside. I gasped, nails sinking into his shoulders as he filled me, stretching me to the edge of pain. But oh, it was perfect. Too much, not enough, everything.

He stilled deep, forehead pressing to mine, his chest heaving. "Perfect," he growled, voice ragged.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging m deeper. He responded with a slow, deliberate thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt. I could feel every inch of him, like a brand searing against my sensitive flesh. He paused, letting me adjust, before withdrawing almost entirely. The sensation of emptiness was acute, making me whine.

But then he sank back in, setting a gentle, measured pace. Each stroke was deep, dragging against that spot inside me that made me see stars. His pelvis ground against my clit, the friction exquisite. I met his thrusts with ragged rises of my hips, reveling in the stretch, the fullness, the way he seemed to fill every corner of me.

His hands gripped my thighs, angling them wider to take him even deeper. I hooked my ankles around his back, drawing him in tighter, wanting to be utterly consumed by him. His mouth found mine again, ravishing and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. Our tongues twined, stroking in time with the slow and steady rhythm of his hips.

"Look at me," he demanded. His eyes burned, wild and tender all at once. "I want you to see who you belong to."

I met his gaze through the blur of tears and pleasure. "Yours," I breathed, breaking apart on the word.

One of his hands slid down between us, thumb circling my clit in slow, deliberate rhythms that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from my core.

The combination of his touch and the deep, relentless strokes built the pressure inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I would shatter. Each thrust was a hammer blow, each caress a spark to the dynamite.

"Adrien—" I broke on his name as my body seized, shattering around him. I cried out, shaking, my walls clenching so hard around him I heard his groan rip through the air.

His thrust didn’t change rhythm, it was slow and deep, relentless even as I came undone in his arms. "That’s it, sweetheart," he praised, voice gravelly with lust. "Let go for me."

I couldn’t hold back if I tried, my body too keyed up, too attuned to his every move. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked through me, leaving me gasping and trembling as he continued to stroke deep inside me.

It was as if nothing else existed in that moment—no worries, no outside world, just us, lost in the heat of our passion. Adrien’s eyes never left mine, watching me come apart for him, feeding my release with his own building need.

When my climax finally started to ebb, he curled over me, blanketing my body with his. His mouth found the spot where our necks met, kissing and nibbling the tender skin there as he rocked into me with short, sharp thrusts.

I could feel him throbbing inside me, his control slipping as he chased his own peak. His eyes squeezed shut as he fought to hold back. With a guttural growl, he buried himself to the hilt and came with a burst of heat, flooding me with his release.

And in that moment, as his warmth filled me, the thought struck sharp and bright: There’s already life inside me. Could there be more now? Two tiny souls, born of this same love?

Awe and terror tangled in my chest. But above it all—gratitude. Gratitude that he was gentle without knowing, that he handled me like something sacred.

After, he didn’t move away. He stayed inside me, forehead pressed to mine, his breath rough against my lips. One hand cupped the back of my neck, the other stroked slowly over my ribs as though soothing a storm he’d stirred.

After a long moment, he lifted his head and looked down at me, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"Marry me," he said, his voice a soft murmur. Not, "Will you marry me?" More like a command, and there was a promise in his eyes of a love that burned forever.

"I already said yes, silly," I whispered, smiling weakly.

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and kissed me softly, his lips lingering on mine. Then, finally, he rolled off me, pulling me with him. I snuggled against his side, burying my face in his neck, inhaling his scent.