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The room was hushed, late-Sunday gold filtering through half-closed blinds. Lucy lay on her side, one hand under her cheek, the other resting on the taut round of her six-month belly, breathing slow and steady beneath Tim’s old LAPD T-shirt.
Tim slipped in behind her, fresh from a shower, skin warm and damp. He didn’t say anything at first. He just molded himself to her back, one big hand sliding under the hem of her shirt to cradle the underside of her bump like it was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.
Which, to him, it was.
“Hey, little girl,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Lucy’s ear, thumb tracing slow circles over stretched skin. “Daddy’s home.”
Lucy let out a soft, contented hum, pressing back into him. “She’s been kicking like crazy every time she hears your voice.”
“Yeah?” His voice cracked just slightly (awe, love, terror, all of it tangled together). He spread his fingers wide, as if he could hold every inch of the miracle she was growing. “God, Luce… look at you. Look at what you’re doing for us.”
She turned her head enough to catch his eye. “You keep staring like I’m made of glass.”
“You’re not glass,” he whispered, kissing the slope of her shoulder, then lower, mouthing gently along the curve where her neck met collarbone. “You’re fucking incredible. Carrying my baby… our baby… stretching so perfectly for her.” His palm glided up, then down, reverent. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
Lucy’s breath hitched. Heat pooled low despite the exhaustion that came with the second trimester. “Tim…”
“Shh. Let me take care of you.” He nudged her top knee forward, settling it over his thigh, opening her gently. The head of his cock, already hard from touching her, slid along her slick folds (she was always ready for him now, hormones turning every touch into fire).
He entered her slowly, carefully, one inch at a time, both of them exhaling at the stretch. Spooned tight behind her, he kept one arm banded under her breasts, the other never leaving her belly.
“Feel that?” he breathed against her neck as he seated himself fully, hips flush to her ass. “That’s me inside the woman who’s giving me everything. You’re so warm… so full of us.”
Lucy whimpered, rocking back the tiny amount the position allowed. “Tim, please move…”
He did (slow, deep rolls of his hips, never rough, never fast). Just a steady, reverent rhythm that kept him buried deep on every stroke.
“Look at you taking me,” he rasped, lips brushing her ear. “Six months pregnant and still greedy for my cock. Still letting me love you like this.” His hand stroked over the curve of her stomach again, possessive and tender. “This belly… fuck, Lucy, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Knowing she’s in there, knowing you did that for me…”
“Tim—” Her voice broke on a soft cry as he angled just right, rubbing over that spot inside that made her toes curl.
“I’ve got you,” he promised, thrusting slow and steady. “Gonna fill you up while you carry my little girl. Gonna remind you every day how perfect you are.”
The praise unraveled her. She came quietly at first (a trembling, full-body wave), then louder when he followed her over, groaning her name against her shoulder, hips pressed tight as he spilled deep inside her.
After, he stayed inside, softening slowly, arms wrapped around her and their daughter like he could shield them both from the entire world.
Lucy threaded her fingers through his where they splayed over her belly. A tiny kick thumped against both their palms.
Tim laughed, the sound wet and overwhelmed. “Think she approves.”
Lucy smiled, turning just enough to kiss him soft and slow. “She better get used to it. Her daddy’s never gonna stop worshipping her mama.”