Chapter 215

Iris

Arthur gently lays me down on the bed and hovers over me, kneeling between my legs. For a long moment, he just looks at me in the darkness, drinking me in.

“Pregnant,” he finally says, brushing his hand across my belly. “I still can’t believe it.”

I reach up and grasp the front of his sweater, pulling him down until our faces are inches apart. “Believe it. Now take off your clothes before I rip them off of you.”

Arthur looks surprised, but he’s already reaching for the hem of his sweater. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

“Blame it on the hormones,” I giggle, watching appreciatively as he pulls the sweater over his head to reveal the taut muscles of his abdomen and the broad expanse of his chest. “They make me…”

“Insatiable?”

“Something like that.”

Before I can say more, Arthur is on me again, his mouth slanting over mine. His tongue slips inside, swirling around my own. I can’t help the pathetic whimper that escapes me at the sensation.

I arch into him, wanting more contact, more friction. My hands roam over his bare torso, fingernails scraping lightly down his back, eliciting a growl from deep in his throat.

“Off,” he commands, tugging at my blouse. “All of it. Now. It’s only fair.”

I comply eagerly, sitting up to peel off the sweater I’ve been wearing—his sweater—while Arthur makes quick work of my leggings, pulling them down along with my underwear. My bra follows, and then I’m completely naked beneath him, my skin prickling, although I’m not sure whether it’s from the cold air or the excitement. Maybe both.

Arthur pauses again, his gaze traveling over my body. “Goddess, you’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Especially when you’re pregnant. I can’t wait to see your body change this time around.”

My cheeks heat at that; it’s an unexpected reminder of the fact that Arthur didn’t get to witness my pregnancy with Miles. All of the good and the bad moments, the changes in my body, the glow in my face.

We can never get that time back. But this feels like a second chance.

“Shut up and take off your belt,” I deflect in the hopes of making the tears that are pricking at the backs of my eyes dissipate. “Save it for later.”

He chuckles but doesn’t stop me as I begin to fumble at his belt, instead trailing kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, then down to my breasts. When his mouth closes around one nipple, I arch my spine and wriggle my hips slightly beneath him.

“Is the pregnancy making you sensitive, too?” Arthur asks, looking up at me with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Very,” I admit, threading my fingers through his hair to pull him back to my breast. “So don’t stop.”

He doesn’t, lavishing attention on both breasts until I’m squirming beneath him, desperate for more. Only then does he continue his journey downward, kissing a hot path down my stomach, pausing to linger over the spot where our child is growing.

“Arthur,” I whine, impatient. “I need—”

“I know what you need,” he cuts me off, settling between my thighs. “Trust me.”

And then his mouth is on me, his tongue circling my clit. I cry out, my back arching off the bed, hands fisting in the sheets. He knows exactly how to touch me, how to build my pleasure with each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck and swirl.

“Arthur, please,” I gasp as he slides one finger inside me, then another, curling them just right. “I’m… I’m going to…”

But he doesn’t relent, doesn’t give me the release I’m desperate for. Instead, he withdraws his fingers, ignoring my protests, and moves back up my body.

“Not yet,” he says, kissing me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips, and it sends another jolt of heat through my core. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

“Then get your pants off,” I demand.

This time he helps, shucking his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion. His cock springs free, hard and ready, and I lick my lips at the sight of it.

“Turn over,” Arthur says suddenly.

I raise an eyebrow but comply, rolling onto my stomach. Arthur’s hands grasp my hips, pulling me up until I’m on my hands and knees. I glance back over my shoulder to find him staring at my ass with open appreciation.

“Like what you see?” I tease.

His answer is a sharp smack to my right cheek that makes me yelp with surprise—and pleasure. “You know I do,” he growls, leaning over me to nip at my earlobe. “You drive me crazy, Iris.”

I wiggle my hips and press back against his hardness. “Show me.”

Arthur doesn’t need further invitation. He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock sliding through my wetness, teasing my clit before pressing inside me with one slow, deep thrust.

I moan at the sensation. It feels so full, so perfect, like a key fitting into a lock. Arthur stills for a moment, giving me time to adjust, his hands roaming over my back, my sides, then coming around to cup my breasts.

Then, slowly, he withdraws almost completely before thrusting back in. Each thrust grows stronger and deeper, and eventually I have to brace myself against the headboard.

The angle is incredible, allowing him to hit spots that I didn’t even know existed. I’m already close again, and with each drag of his cock against my inner walls, I know it’s only a matter of seconds before I explode.

“Arthur,” I pant, “I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he commands once again, slowing his pace. “Not until I say so.”

I whimper frustratedly, but before I can protest further, Arthur pulls out completely. I’m about to complain when he flips me onto my back, hoisting my legs over his shoulders before entering me again in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” I gasp. I look up at him, and when I see the faint glow in his eyes as if his wolf is just below the surface, it makes my breath catch. “Arthur, please…”

“Please what?” he asks, maintaining a maddeningly slow pace. “Tell me what you want, Iris.”

“Harder,” I beg, digging my heels into his back to draw him closer. “Faster. I need to come.”

Arthur grins devilishly. “As my mate commands.”

He increases his pace, his thrusts becoming more powerful with each stroke. It’s too much. My orgasm crashes into me like a brick wall, and I haven’t even had time to catch my breath before another wave comes, then another.

Arthur finishes along with me. He groans, burying himself deep inside me as he comes. His mouth finds mine one last time, muffling both of our cries.

Afterward, he collapses beside me, both of us breathing hard. I lay on my back like a limp starfish, unable to move or speak or do anything except smile and pant like an animal in heat.

When I chance a look over at Arthur again, he meets my gaze briefly. His eyes are still glowing faintly, and I blink in surprise.

Noticing my look, he clarifies, “You didn’t get the chance to see it before.” His throat bobs, and I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to tear up over the reminder. “But males are insatiable when their mate is pregnant, too. And perhaps overprotective.”

I tilt my head. “Overprotective?”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering. “I want to run away with you,” he finally says. “Get out of the public eye. Just us and our children, living our lives away from the spotlight.”

I blink, surprised, and sit up. “What are you talking about?”

Arthur sits up too and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been rethinking a lot of things lately. Especially since Veronica, and then learning about your family’s abilities, which Miles is already exhibiting… It’s made me question whether it’s truly safe in the public eye.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want us to have a life where we don’t have to worry about manipulative exes or political enemies or people trying to use our kids for their abilities.”

I tilt my head. “That sounds suspiciously like you’re considering not running for a second term.”

“I am,” he admits. “Considering it, I mean. Nothing is decided yet, but… with another baby on the way, I’m not sure I want to subject our family to four more years of this.”

I think about Miles, about how much he’s already had to adapt to—the security detail, the public attention, the restrictions on where he can go and who he can play with. And now that I know the potential danger for a child with his abilities…

“It’s a lot to consider,” I say softly.

Arthur nods. “The job takes so much from me already. Time I could be spending with you and Miles. Energy I could be investing in our family.”

“But you love being President,” I point out. “You love making real changes in Ordan.”

“I do love it,” he agrees. “But I love you and our family more. And sometimes I wonder if I can really have both.”

The thought of Arthur giving up his dreams for me doesn’t exactly fill me with joy. But regardless, I lean over to kiss him softly on the lips, then the cheek, then the neck. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you. I hope you know that.”

“You’d really be okay with either choice?”

“I want you to be happy,” I tell him. “And I want our family to be safe. That’s all that matters to me. The rest is just… details.”

“Even if it means giving up the fancy house? The staff? The prestige?” he asks, only half-joking.

I snort. “Please. I was a waitress for most of my adult life. Prestige has never been high on my priority list. You should know this by now.”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point.”

“Besides,” I add, my hand moving to rest on my stomach, “we’re going to have our hands full with two kids under seven. You might be begging for your presidential duties back just to get a break.”

“I’d take sticky fingers and temper tantrums over budget meetings any day,” Arthur says with a laugh.

“Be careful what you wish for,” I warn him. “This one might come out like you, just like Miles did, and he’s already a handful.”

Arthur smirks. “Or it’ll come out like you, which is even worse.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help but laugh. “I guess we’re doomed either way.”

He nods and lays back down, this time pulling me along with him. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess we are.”