The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Chapter 186 – Something New

Aria’s POV

"Yes," he said. "But you held it together when I didn’t know how. When Noah was taken. When Marcus — all of it, you held it down."

"So did you."

"Not the way you did."

I didn’t argue because it was late and because there was something true in it and because arguing with Damien when he was being genuinely humble was a battle I’d learned to let go.

I moved closer instead and he adjusted around me without being asked, arm around my shoulders, careful the way he had learned to be careful in the last few weeks.

"I love you,"

"I know," he said. Then: "I love you. Both of you, in fact all three of you."

I put my hand over his where it rested on my stomach, feeling the gentle curve of my small bump under his palm.

Damien turned his head and kissed me slow and deep. His lips were warm and soft at first, then firmer, his tongue sliding against mine like he was tasting every second. I angled his head with both hands, pulling him closer, kissing him harder until we were both breathing fast.

He broke the kiss just enough to look at me, eyes dark. "You sure?" he asked, voice low. "With the baby"

"Fuck me," I said.

We pulled off our clothes right there on the bed. My shirt first, then his. My pants slid down easily. His hands were gentle on my belly the whole time, like he was reminding himself to be careful. When we were naked he helped me roll onto my hands and knees, my belly hanging safe, no pressure on it at all.

He knelt behind me, one hand on my hip, the other stroking down my back. I felt the thick head of his cock nudge against my pussy, already wet and aching for him. He pushed in slowly—one inch, then two—until he was buried deep. I moaned at the stretch, the way he filled me completely.

Damien stayed still for a second, letting me adjust, his hands firm on my hips but never pressing my belly. Then he started to move. Long, steady thrusts that rocked me forward on the mattress. Each slide pulled almost all the way out before he sank back in, deep and deliberate. The sound of skin on skin filled the room—wet, rhythmic, loud.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, voice rough. He reached around and cupped one of my breasts, thumb brushing my nipple while he kept fucking me from behind. My belly swayed gently with every thrust, safe between us, and I pushed back against him harder, wanting more.

He leaned over me, chest to my back, careful not to crush me, and kissed the side of my neck. "Like that?" he whispered against my skin.

"Yes—harder," I gasped.

He gave it to me, hips snapping faster now, cock driving in and out in that perfect doggy angle that hit every spot. My arms shook but I held myself up, moaning each time he bottomed out.

Damien’s hand slipped down between my legs, fingers finding my clit and rubbing in tight circles while he kept thrusting. I came fast—hard and sudden—clenching around his cock, crying out his name. He followed right after, burying himself deep and coming with a low groan, hips jerking against my ass as he spilled inside me.

Afterward he eased out slowly, helped me lie on my side, and pulled me back against his chest. His hand returned to my belly, stroking it softly while our breathing slowed. We lay there in the quiet, skin still warm and sticky.

*********

The beach ceremony was everything Olivia had claimed she didn’t want and then quietly planned with the intensity of a woman who had spent years insisting she wasn’t the type.

Small and intimate, she’d said. Nothing elaborate. And it wasn’t elaborate — it was forty people on a private stretch of beach two hours outside the city, chairs arranged in loose rows on pale sand, the ocean doing its indifferent, magnificent work behind the arch of white flowers, the late afternoon light doing the kind of things that late afternoon light did by the sea that no photographer had ever adequately captured and no one had ever stopped trying.

I stood to one side with Damien, four months along and wearing a dress that Olivia had chosen for me specifically — deep green, draped, forgiving in all the right places — and watched Noah at the end of the front row with Mrs. Dora, ring box in both hands, face set with the professional gravity of a veteran ring bearer who had done this job before and knew exactly what was expected.

He caught my eye and gave me a solemn nod.

I gave him one back.

"He’s been practicing his walk," Damien murmured beside me.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify