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Sam’s hand keeps sneaking around her waist, not to support her (though after years on ships, walking on grass is annoying) but to cup the curve of her belly, thumb around her belly button.
“Nuh-uh, not till we get home, hotshot,” Kara objects.
“When’d you start caring about rules?” Sam snorts, but picks up the walking pace.
“When we almost got eaten by a bear the last time we left Kacey at the sitter’s and got distracted on the way home.” Kara raises her eyebrows.
Sam sighs. “Okay, fine, Earth is dangerous.”
Kara grins as they finally climb the steps to their cabin, sun-warmed and comfortable at this time of the afternoon. “I should pretend to be patient more often,” she murmurs, pushing him against the door frame as he shuts it behind them, dragging his face down so that she can lick up his jawline.
“Mm?” Sam can barely respond, breath catching in his throat as his hands grab her widening waist, lips crushing hers as soon as she turns her head back. “You,” he manages, brushing his cheek against hers and whispering against her ear, “are still glowing.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, it’ll have to keep the faith for a long time after baby complicates the schedule,” Kara says, heart like a drum, and biologically her hormones should not have had her itchy for his touch all day, but there’s no arguing with them.
“Not true,” Sam says, sucking her earlobe as he keeps his embrace loose, avoiding where the hormone have also made her tender. “We’ll leave him with Kacey.”
Kara glares as she yanks him away from the wall, aiming for the bed as she slips off her sandals. “Leave the newborn with the three-year-old, Sam, yeah, you’re the world’s greatest dad.”
“Would you believe it if I told you that it’s because you’re holding my brain captive with your incredible fertile hotness?” Sam asks, leaning into her space as she sits back on the bed. For some reason, the smell of his breath is the sexiest thing she’s ever come across, and she can all but feel her rational mind just scorch away.
“I’ll get back to you once I rescue mine.” She leans up, brushing her lips against his forehead, then down to rub her nose against his, humming under her breath.
He remembers to carefully avoid her breasts, holding her suspended and laid back on his arm, slipping the button of her pants free as he kisses her slow and deep, so she can breathe him in and close her eyes until she’s just floating in him. His fingers slip down past her underwear, and she purrs against his lips and tongue, and despite the infrequency his technique has only improved since she reluctantly accepted motherhood.
She rocks against his fingers for a few seconds, running her hands up and down the flexed muscles on his back as he still holds her up, and even when he plunges them inside and twists a little she doesn’t feel any need but this. But then she catches his eyes, and the intense pleasure of love makes her shiver, and she wants more but she wants him with her.
Gasping out, she arches her back, pulls herself up to sit with her legs wrapped around his legs as they sit on the bed. “Don’t stop,” she warns, adjusting herself so his fingers drive home at just the right angle, and she’s so slippery she wonders how it still works like this. “But breasts—now—gently—”
The flash of a smile is all she sees, all she needs, as Sam brings her closer and licks at where the curves start just below her collarbone. Kara groans and it’s tender still, but gentle works, and as he’s distracted, tongue and fingers swirling on and in her, she reaches between them for his pants. It’s not hard to unbutton them and release him from the confines, and he slips a little and his teeth scrap against her breast when she wraps her hand around him—the hint of pain reminds Kara of the good old days of play, and she tightens around his fingers with an achingly indulgent shiver.
But she wants to feel him, wants to feel herself taking an active part in his desire, and if their children are going to interfere in their love life then she wants this free time to be magic. She runs her fingertips under the length of him, trembling a little as his own long fingers find deeper and deeper places in her, his lips teasing around the curves of her breasts as they straddle each other.
He’s smooth and hard when she circles him and strokes, as gentle as his mouth and as purposeful as his fingers—his moves grow a little erratic, jerky against her, and the switch-up sends her senses into overload. Kara can feel him, smell him so vividly that it’s like she’s tasting him, like her favorite drug that shouldn’t be legal.
Sam grunts when she makes him come, fingers thrusting hard in her—and she can’t hold back a whimpering moan of need as she rides his shaking fingers, wrapping her legs around his hips and gripping him close to her. Her breasts ache gloriously as he brings her up and over the edge, crashing down with muscles fluttering all over, her pregnant belly contracting along with the rest of her.
Her breath comes out as a guttural shudder, and in the unthinking euphoria of the moment she wraps her arms around his shoulder and kisses his neck, sucking to taste him as she leaves a red mark. He withdraws his hand, embraces her tightly, moans, “God, Kara, I love you pregnant.”
“Might be the most delicious mistake I’ve ever made,” Kara agrees, and closes her eyes to hold onto the moment a little longer.