The rain had become a constant companion, soft and steady against the windows as the days slipped by. Three weeks until Amina brought Noah home. The number hung between Elias and me like a live wire.
He woke me before the alarm, his body already curved possessively around mine from behind. One large hand rested low on my stomach, the other slipped between my thighs, pushing the remnants of last night deeper inside me as he pressed his hardness against my a*s.
“Three weeks,” he murmured hotly against my neck, voice thick with sleep and hunger. “In three weeks my daughter is walking through that door with some college boy named Noah. While I’ve been filling you every single day trying to get you pregnant with what’s ours.”
He didn’t ask. He simply lifted my leg and thrust inside me in one
