Chapter 1272:
There wasn’t a trace of doubt in her voice. She said it the way one states a simple, unquestionable truth.
Her thumb stroked his feverish cheek with care, the way someone might soothe a wounded animal trembling in pain. As his eyes grew redder, she took his hand and gently placed it against her belly.
His hand came to rest there, settling over the soft curve beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.
His entire frame trembled without restraint.
𝗥om𝗮𝗻с𝘦 𝗮ոd p𝘢𝘴𝗌іо𝗻 o𝘯 𝗴а𝗅𝗇ove𝗹𝘴.𝗰o𝗆
He bowed his head, staring down at where his hand lay against her stomach, his eyes still red and unfocused. A moment later, he dropped his head further, pressing his face into the hollow of her neck.
The heat in him hadn’t faded—desire still pulsed fiercely through him—yet the way he moved had shifted. He brushed his lips along her neck, warm and unhurried, grazing her collarbone with a surprising gentleness. Her name fell from his lips like a quiet, repeated plea. “Rylie… Rylie… Rylie…”
Rylie tilted her head slightly and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
“I’m right here,” she murmured. “Whatever you need—I’m not going anywhere.”
Brad slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. They were still flushed, but the wild edge had receded, replaced by something vulnerable—almost like a child searching for comfort.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough and tight. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
Seeing him like that made something inside Rylie finally loosen, the tension she had carried for so long slowly dissolving.
She gave him a small, reassuring nod.
The bed beneath them was soft, and the room glowed under dim, muted light. Brad eased her down with careful hands, treating her as though she were something precious and fragile. Hovering above her, he kept his eyes fixed on hers—desire burning clearly in them, yet still held in check by lingering restraint.
Rylie slid her arm around his neck and drew him toward her, slipping the specially made Snow Mint pill into his mouth with a slow, unhurried kiss.
That was the last of his resistance. He wrapped his arms around her, the mint dissolving against his tongue, and kissed her deeply as the passion in him finally spilled free.
Even so, he kept himself measured.
The effort he was making was so visible it almost made her laugh.
“I’m stronger than you think,” she whispered playfully.
He dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her closed eyelids, his voice so soft she could barely catch the words. “You and our baby… are my whole world.”
Rylie studied him quietly, seeing the battle still raging inside him—veins visible, his body trembling—yet he remained careful, deliberate, unwilling to cause her any harm. She smiled faintly, wrapped her arms around him, and matched herself gently to his rhythm.
Though he had tried to restrain himself, Brad woke to a scene of ruin—pillows split open, feathers drifting across the sheets and clinging to Rylie’s bare skin, her body marked with dark bruises and fading love bites.
In the end, he had still hurt her.
.
.
.