Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,176
the ache that bloomed when he brought that knife to his own mouth and licked up the juice.
His eyes were all darkness as they lingered on my lips while he fed me another piece. My tongue lashed out to catch a drop of juice, and I felt his cock grow against my lower back.
“Only you could make eating a peach erotic,” I breathed as his strong fingers wrapped around my throat and tilted my head back farther so he could lick at my sticky sweet lips.
“You started it,” he claimed. “Seventeen years old and drawin’ my notice like you didn’t care I was a killer.”
“If I ever cared, it was only because I found it sexy,” I admitted.
I watched as he used the now clean blade to trace light patterns along the tops of my breasts visible above the cotton dress. They’d swollen heavily with my pregnancy, practically spilling from all of my old clothes no matter how loose they’d been.
Priest was enjoying them.
Shockingly, he enjoyed every moment of my pregnancy, relishing the changes, watching my body grow as if I was a rare and delicate flower in bloom. It was erotic as hell to have him worship me in bed, the swell of my stomach, the delicate, stretched skin of my breasts.
He palmed one now in his big hand, testing the weight. “Eight months pregnant and you’ve never been sexier to me.”
“Priest,” I protested laughingly.
“Truth.” He plucked my nipple hard between his knuckles. “You’ve never been more mine than you are with our baby growing inside you.”
I laughed then, falling into it, pushing my head back into his unyielding shoulder so I could share that laughter with the heavens. “Could you be more of an alpha?”
He grunted, ignoring me mostly, his eyes fixed on my breasts as he used the knife to slice off a button, revealing even more of my pale cleavage.
“Priest…” I warned even as my body went warm and pliant in his hold. “We’re in public.”
“In a park at two o’clock on a fuckin’ Tuesday,” he pointed out as his hand dove into the parted fabric and pulled out my flesh, my breasts lifted and pressed together over the bunched fabric beneath. “No one’s gonna see me fuck my woman.”
“God will,” I half-teased.
Priest shifted out from behind me, laying me back on the blanket so he could settle in a half-sprawl on his side to cut off another section of peach. I watched breathlessly as he squeezed the piece of fruit between his strong fingers over my breasts, the sunset gold liquid running in rivulets down and between their roundness.
“Let him watch,” he welcomed in that raspy voice that abraded my skin and gave me goosebumps.
And then he bent his head to lick up every drop of that sweet nectar from my flesh. His tongue lashed hotly, teeth biting gently to test the firmness of my tit, his breath blowing coolly over the wet skin. I shivered and groaned, clutching him to me by two handfuls of his silken copper hair.
“My shadow loves the pain,” he hummed around my nipple before tugging it sharply between his teeth, then lashing the swollen nub with his tongue.
“I love the contrast,” I agreed, arching into the pressure. “The pain with the pleasure.”
He fed me his sticky fingers, sliding them over my tongue so I could suck off the juices. The taste of peach and man was heady enough to make me light-headed and almost dizzy. With his other hand, he rucked up the bottom of my dress, running his rough fingers along the edge of my panties, testing the placket of the cotton to see if I was already wet for him.
I was. Pregnancy had made me almost feverish with constant desire, and Priest had no problem fulfilling my every need. He began to then, fingers teasing beneath the fabric when a painful spasm ripped down my back into my belly.
I hissed. Priest recognized it instantly as a bad sound and pulled his hand away. He cocked his head, locking his eyes to my wide ones. He didn’t ask me if I was okay because he read me in an instant.
When he got up, I tried to protest, but he hushed me with a single frown. “We’re goin’ to the hospital.”
I tried my hardest not to laugh, but Priest had been the most detail-orientated dad-to-be I’d ever known. He read science books about pregnancy and childbirth, studying like a