warmth claims your insides as you hear an embarrassed groan from behind, the man clearly ashamed of how easily unraveled his arousal yielded to your silk. but he's not ashamed enough—not by the notable quiver of his larger hand, shifting to your soft freshly filled tummy, gently massaging it, trying to tuck his load more efficiently inside your womb.

reassuring lips find yours briefly, before mumbling against it to ask for permission to ease his love into you.