The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker 8)

With a growl, he lifted his head. “You’re soaking wet, Marissa. I can’t wait to be inside of you here.” He thrust a finger inside, deep and hard until he was met with the resistance of my virginity. My hips bucked in pleasure, seeking more. Pulling his finger free, he sucked the digit into his mouth, making a groaning rumbly sound in approval at the taste of my need for him.

Before I could beg him for more, he was shifting and replacing his fingers with his mouth and tongue. I gripped the covers underneath me, trying to hold onto my sanity as he licked me from my entrance and upward. When he reached my clit, he sucked it roughly into his mouth, thrusting a finger into my tight channel, and I came apart with his name leaving my lips on a scream of pure unchecked passion.

I wasn’t sure how long it took before I realized that I was actually alive and he hadn’t in fact killed me with pleasure. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me closely, a dark passion shining at me from those espresso eyes. Wroth had his long, thick dick in his hands as he stroked himself up and down. I’d never seen anything as sexy as the man before me. With a moan, I spread my thighs welcomingly, my need building all over again for him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he assured me in a voice deeper and rougher than any I’d ever heard leave his mouth before. If there had ever been a man who was more beast than human it would have been my delicious husband. “If I do, just say the word and I’ll try to stop. Okay?” He was still taking care of me, even now when he looked like he would die if he didn’t take me. I didn’t think it was possible to love him more than I already did, but in that moment my love grew until it was an ache in my chest.

Licking my lips, I nodded, knowing that even if he did hurt me there was no way I was going to tell him to stop. No way. Carefully, Wroth moved over me, guiding his pulsing dick to my entrance. The tip slid in, stretching me deliciously. I moaned. He’d done that a few times before in the past, and it had always felt so good that I couldn’t help but come within minutes. His hips thrust forward just a little and another inch entered me and I moaned his name in approval of how good he felt inside of me.

Wroth rocked back, leaving me completely before entering me again and sinking just a little deeper. Sweat beaded on his brow and rolled down his face as he pulled out again. Moaning, I matched his thrust when he entered me again, the tip of his dick brushing over my hymen. I knew that with the next thrust he would break through it and breathed in deeply when he thrust forward again. There was a sharp pain and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. My legs wrapped around his waist to hold him deep inside and I held on tight as my body slowly began to adjust to him.

Wroth lifted his head. “Okay?”

“Better than okay,” I assured him as pleasure began to replace the brief pain. I lifted my hips and rubbed against him, grinning in delight when he flexed inside of me. His lids lowered, masking his own desperate need. “Make love to me now, Wroth. You feel so good, honey. I need you so bad.”

Wroth growled my name and covered my lips with his as he set a pace that soon had us both touching the stars.

Epilogue

Marissa

“Okay, Mrs. Niall. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be all set.”

I smiled nervously at the nurse as she stood by my head. “Okay,” I whispered as I took a few deep breaths to calm my anxiety despite there being tubes sticking in my nose to give me oxygen since I was lying flat on my back.

Wroth rubbed his fingers over my cheek and leaned over to kiss me. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” he kept repeating and I knew he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to soothe me.

I gave him as bright a smile as I could manage right then, feeling the pressure on my stomach as the three different doctors stood on the other side of the sheet tent. This was it. We were about to be parents. It had only taken three years and two attempts of implanting my harvested eggs mixed with Wroth’s impressive swimmers into me through IVF. The first attempt had resulted in none of the embryos taking but the second had been more than successful. So much so that I’d had to be monitored constantly throughout my very rough pregnancy.

When we had first gone through IVF, the doctors had warned that there was a chance that I wouldn’t get pregnant just as there was a chance that I could just as easily get pregnant with multiples. Three embryos had taken this time round, and then one had split, producing identical twins. When we’d gone for our first ultrasound and the tech had found four heartbeats, Wroth had nearly fallen out of his seat. He hadn’t been the only one startled by the announcement. Our last IVF had been our last shot and I’d known that no matter how many babies we ended up having, they would be our only children. So to discover that we were having four—four little babies—at the same time, I’d been both scared and delighted.

My fear had overridden my delight though when I’d been put on bed rest in my second trimester because the babies were growing at an outrageous rate and too much activity could have easily put me into premature labor. The horror stories of Layla’s ordeal with her twins had kept me in bed and scared to so much as sneeze wrong.

Wroth had gone an extra step and hired a nurse to take care of me. Thank God it had been Dallas because I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to handle a complete stranger bossing me around like Dallas had done over the last five months. She and Axton, along with their two beautiful kids, had moved into our house on the farm and things had gone pretty smoothly for the most part.

Somehow, by some miracle, I’d actually made it to the thirty-six week milestone without very many more complications and now the doctors thought it was safe to take them. I’d been admitted into the hospital last night and at five thirty this morning the anesthesiologist had come in to prep me for my epidural. Now, we were just minutes away from meeting the rest of our family.

Wroth’s hand trembled and I linked our fingers together, offering him the strength he had been giving me since we had decided to start trying for a child of our own. “I love you. Then. Now. Forever,” repeating the words that he said to me almost hourly. The same words that we had had inked into our wrists just days after we’d gotten married.

“Then. Now. Forever,” he murmured and kissed my lips again.

“You’re going to feel a lot of pressure, Marissa.” The obstetrician spoke up and I gasped when the pressure he had mentioned left me breathless. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but it was scary and a tear leaked from my eyes as I gripped Wroth’s hand harder.