Calamity Rayne Knocked Up Read Online Lydia Michaels

Categories Genre: Romance
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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He carefully turned me to my back and traced a finger down my cheek. “There’s my baby.” The way his possession could effortlessly shift from aggressive to gentle filled me with a sense of security and trust. “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

He bent to kiss me softly, and I felt his love pouring into my soul. A divine sense of adoration washed over me, and I chased his lips, always wanting more.

He chuckled, the sound deep and oh-so-sexy. “Don’t worry. I’m not finished yet.” My drenched thighs fell open as he rearranged our bodies. “Look at me, Rayne.”

My bleary eyes opened. God, he was beautiful.

He kissed me again with absolute tenderness. “I love you, baby.”

My mouth formed a lopsided smile. “Love you, too.”

He still made sure I said it every time. Words of affirmation mattered to Hale. He not only wanted to hear that I loved him, he needed to make sure I knew he loved me. I was his world and he was mine. It was us, and Elara—a family. We were happy, so it made perfect sense that I wanted to add to that happiness with another baby, but Hale never wanted me to feel like anything was missing if that wasn’t in the cards for us.

“I’m sorry I get so crazy sometimes.”

“I’m used to your crazy, Rayne. It’s what made me fall in love with you.” Loosening the silk tie, he pulled my weak fingers to his lips, kissing my knuckles as he rubbed feeling back into my arms.

I sighed, my heart full of gratitude that I found this incredible man and somehow managed to marry him. “Are you going to finish?”

He cocked a brow. “I thought you might have had enough.”

“I’ll never have enough of this.” My alone time with Hale was what kept me sane on most days. “Go ahead.”

“You’re so fucking good to me, baby.” He pushed inside of me again and groaned. Pumping slowly, I could tell he was close.

As his teeth scraped over my shoulder his body shivered and his cock pulsed. His grip on my hips tightened, and he sighed. His weight blanketed me as he slowly pulled out, and I lovingly ran my fingers through his blond hair. Only I got to see him this vulnerable.

I did this to him. Me.

My body trembled in the gentle aftermath of my prior climax. He was exhausted and I was more than content to hold him for a while. It was now my turn to take care of him, and I loved that we had this sort of give-and-take together.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we totally misunderstood the assignment, but so-fucking-what? My husband was hotter than Lucifer’s wettest dream, and he loved me in a way I once thought nobody could. We could try for a baby next month. Right now, this was precisely what we both seemed to need.

Rolling to his side, he sighed. “You okay?”

Words were hard, but I managed to slur, “I’m wonderful.”

As always, he rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later he returned with a warm, damp washcloth and pressed it between my thighs. “I don’t want you to be sore.”

There would be no avoiding that. “It was worth it.”

He kissed my clit and stretched out beside me, his fingers lacing with mine. “We needed that.”

No matter how much he projected nonchalance, this pregnancy thing was killing him. We both knew it would take some time, but we had no idea it would take this long or be this emotionally draining.

Hale didn’t like to fail. And I didn’t like disappointing him. It wasn’t his failure or mine, but sometimes those negative pregnancy tests felt way more personal than either of us wanted to admit.

What if it never happened for us? What if it was me? What if it was him? What if it was both of us?

There were too many what ifs.

While Hale and I had a daughter, neither of us had anything to do with Elara’s conception. Yes, Elara was a Davenport, but she was not Hale’s. He adopted her the day she was born, and I adopted her the day we got married. We loved her as our own, and if she was the only child we ever had, she would certainly be enough, but we still wanted to try for more.

I promised no more crying, but sometimes my body just did what it wanted. Tomorrow my cycle would start all over again. Another month gone by, another reason to try not to cry.

Doctors & Their Bedside Manner

“It’s been over a year, Doc. Something’s wrong.”

My OBGYN stilled with only one foot in the door and my chart suspended in his hand. “Rayne. Hello.”

I planted my hands in the lap of my paper gown and gave him a moment to enter the room and get situated.


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