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darker and larger during her pregnancy. There were marks on her stomach. Stretch marks, she called them. He ran his fingers over her stretch marks then leaned in and kissed each one.
    He pulled her legs apart.
    “I haven’t taken care of matters down there lately. Oh God, I can’t even see myself. I probably look like Cousin Itt, don’t I? I’ll have the Wolfman knocking at my door wanting his pelt of fur back.”
    He moved next to her and leaning in, kissed her once more. “Each time you say something disparaging about yourself I am going to kiss you.”
    “Umm, hate to point this out, but that’s not much of a deterrent.”
    “I cannot spank you, but if you object, I am certain I can come up with more of a deterrent.”
    “No, no, kissing is fine. I am certain I will learn my lesson. Bad Zoey.” She smacked her hand.
    With a smile, he kissed her gently. Laying loving kisses down her neck, when he reached her breasts, he cupped them. “They are still sensitive?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then I shall go gently.” He licked her nipple. Swirling his tongue around the hard nub, before pulling it into his mouth and sucking.
    As she gasped, he moved to her other nipple, repeating the action.
    “Dex. Dex.”
    He ran his hand over her huge belly to her lower lips. He slipped his finger between her folds.
    “You are wet. You need this.”
    “Please don’t make me wait,” she begged.
    He kissed over her stomach, paying special attention to those stretch marks. “Each of these is a mark of honor. You carry our baby. I carry battle scars. Do you think me any less attractive?”
    “Of course not,” she told him.
    “I never wish you to say you are not beautiful,” he ordered.
    “Boss, yes, Boss.” She saluted.
    He shook his head. Sometimes, he still did not understand her. But he could not love her more. He knelt between her legs, pulling back her slick folds.
    “You don’t have to—oh holy shit,” she interrupted herself as he leaned in and licked her.
    He took long, slow licks of her, savoring her taste. He had missed this. Her taste, her scent, her little cries of arousal.
    What an idiot he had been, and if Zoey had been feeling more herself, he was certain she would have told him.
    Over and over until he understood.
    He flicked her clit, circling it with his tongue.
    “Oh. Oh. Ohhhh,” she cried out. “I’m not going to last.”
    “Let go, my own. Let me hear you scream for me.”
    She screamed out loud as she came, shuddering. Dex continued to lick her softly.
    “No more, no more,” she begged.
    With a final kiss on her mound, he moved up next to her, pulling her into his arms.
    “Give me a moment to recover,” she told him. “Then I’ll take care of you.”
    Dex kissed her forehead, regret filling him. He would like nothing more than to snuggle up next to her in bed. “Much as I would love for you to touch me, my own. I am already late. But you can be certain that I will come home to you very soon.”
    ***
    Zoey watched wistfully as Dex left. She knew she was being silly. When he was around, she complained that he hovered over her. When he wasn’t here, she missed him horribly.
    She hoped she went back to normal once this baby was here. She couldn’t stand this feeling of gloom weighing on her. The doubt and negativity was so unlike her. As her pregnancy progressed, it felt like people stopped seeing her. All they saw was the baby she carried. The next Prince or Princess. The first Zerconian baby to be born in years.
    Zoey ran a hand over her face. “Stop thinking so much.” She had too much time to think. And worry. Urgh, it was so annoying, and so unlike her. Zoey wasn’t used to stressing over every little thing. But now she couldn’t seem to help herself. Everything Dex said and did. Or didn’t say or do. She worried about giving birth. About the pain. About being a mom. What did she know about babies? Absolutely nothing.
    Panic filled her, and she took a deep breath in, then out. Panic