So it's been a year, but I'm back! And what's more, there's going to be another update to this fic later in the week! (Then I will probably disappear into the void once again, only to reemerge when you least expect it).

This chapter picks up where the last one left off, which means that yes, there is smut. Small trigger warning for mentions of sexual assault.

Hope you enjoy and I would love to know your thoughts!

You purse your lips together, trying to play it cool as he waits for your reaction. "You didn't, uh. I didn't know you wanted to..."

"I thought you wanted me to decide when?" he asks, watching you pull the ponytail holder off your wrist and tie your hair into a loose half ponytail to get it away from your face as you walk over to his side of the bed. When you're close enough for him to snake an arm around your waist, he tilts his head up and kisses you sweetly once, then twice. "But if you changed your mind-"

"No."

"Okay," He must be convinced by your lack of hesitation, because his voice drops down to a low rumble- the kind you hear when he's on top of you and saying all sorts of filthy things with his mouth next to your ear. "Then I won't ask again, and you know that if you want to stop, you can stop anytime. Right?"

"Right."

"Good. Now get undressed." When you raise an eyebrow, he swats your ass lightly. "What? I want something to look at."

"You're not going to be able to see anything below here anyway," you say, pointing to your stomach as you pull off your shirt and unhook your bra.

"I'm okay with that." He's already got the towel around his hips unknotted, and your cheeks flush when you see him wrap his hand around his half-hard dick because damnit, he knows what watching that does to you. "Uh-uh," he says when you reach for him. "You're not done yet."

You pull your leggings and underwear off together, grateful to be rid of them. The bigger your belly grows, the less comfortable pants get, which does not bode well for the next three months. For you, at least. The Boyfriend would probably be okay with it.

Now that you've followed orders, he doesn't bat your hand away when you take hold of his cock, the two of you stroking him in tandem. You love feeling him swell and harden inside the circle of your fist, maybe almost as much as he loves playing with your tits. Maybe.

"Jesus fuck. Barely fit in my hands anymore," he notes with appreciation, their weight resting heavy in his palms.

"Yeah, well, enjoy them now while you still can."

"Like you're not enjoying it too," he scoffs, thumbs teasingly circling your nipples. One hand trails down your round stomach and between your thighs, his fingertip brushing over your clit. "You're so wet already and I've hardly even touched you. That just from thinking about sucking me off?"

You nod and he smirks, his mouth taking the place of his hand on your breast. His other hand is still wedged between your legs, purposely not making contact with your pussy and keeping you from squeezing your thighs together to get some relief as he sucks hard on your nipple. You hold onto his head and push your chest forward so that he takes more of your breast into his mouth. "Baby. Please."

He reaches for your hand and puts it on top of your other breast, humming his approval when he sees you massaging it with the pads of your fingers. You feel his tongue sweep across your swollen nipple, feel the sensitive little bud brushing against the roof of his mouth and then the inside of his cheek, and the contrast in sensations has your whole body starting to tremble.

"I'm-" You give your nipple a hard pinch and a millisecond after your orgasm begins, he moves his hand so that you can rub your clit against the heel of his palm. Your hips jerk forward wildly, your belly bumping against his torso, and his now-soaked hand is giving you enough friction to keep going until you come again. "Godohgod. Oh!"

Your poor knees, which lately are struggling to keep you upright under normal conditions, are threatening to buckle, so The Boyfriend pulls you down until you're sitting sideways across his lap. He notices how you're struggling to catch your breath and frowns. "Everything okay?"

"More than," you assure him, nodding as you gulp for air. He rubs your lower back for a few moments and you turn toward him, grinning sheepishly. "I thought I was supposed to be the one getting you off."

"Oh, you will." He grins back at you. "Just making sure you've got enough oxygen first." He lets his hand rest on your belly and chuckles when he feels Lilly flailing around inside. "She seems to be doing fine, though."

You tilt your head and kiss the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, but his hands have already found their way back to your tits. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

"Nope. Not when I know I can make you come just from playing with those gorgeous nipples." He does just that, rolling them leisurely between his thumbs and forefingers like he does to wake you up on lazy Saturday mornings when Noah's still asleep by some miracle of God. You'd be fine with him fucking you that same way, easing into wakefulness with him inside you, but he's not comfortable with that unless you give him some kind of verbal okay, so you compromised by deciding he'd stay above the waist.

You lean back to rest your head against his shoulder, and your hand is headed in between your spread thighs when he catches your wrist. "Later. Want you on your knees for me now."

He nudges you to stand up and then puts your big pillow on the floor next to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his feet bracketing the pillow.

His dick is already leaking, rock-hard and flushed, and you're surprised that the butterflies in your stomach are only from anticipation and not fear. You feel a little ridiculous that it's taken you so long to get to this point when it doesn't seem like that much of a big deal, but smells and tastes have always been your biggest trigger- along with anything restricting your breathing.

Tonight, though, your only real fear is that Noah will wake up and interrupt you. But he's snoring away on the baby monitor, and he tends to be a heavy sleeper once he actually gets to sleep, so you're in the clear for now. There's just one thing wrong. "You're supposed to be standing."

"I don't want you to have to have all your weight resting on your knees." You frown at him, but he stays firm. "What? I want you down there for a while."

"Ohh, old man, you really think you're going to last that long?" As far as you know, it's been quite some time since he's had someone go down on him, and if it's not- if it happened while you were broken up- then you don't want to know.

"Sssh. Enough talking," he says, and the way he's taking charge is thrilling and exactly what you told him that you wanted. "Can I touch your head?"

"Yeah. Just don't-" You mimic yanking on your ponytail and he nods.

Your first order of business is to make sure that you're both in a position where you can get your mouth where it needs to be without being literally cockblocked by your stomach. This sort of logistical maneuvering isn't very sexy and he's basically hovering on the edge of the bed by the time you've got it figured out, but he doesn't seem to mind.

When you decide that the situation is as good as it's going to get, you rest your palms on his thighs and bite your lip, looking up at him to make sure that you haven't completely killed the mood. He runs his fingers over the top of your head, smoothing back the little tendrils at your hairline that had slipped out of your ponytail. "You look good like this, by the way. Even better than I imagined."

"Oh, you've imagined this?" you ask with wide eyes, pretending to be shocked. You let the very tip of your tongue stick out between your teeth and he huffs. "Stop teasing and get to work."

You ease your way into it, kissing and nibbling at his inner thighs, although not out of any hesitation on your part. He had still been mostly hard but he was back at full mast by the time you cupped his balls in your palm, your nails lightly scraping over his sac. "Liv. Ah fuck."

He puts his hand on your shoulder as his cock brushes against your face, a drop of precome dotting your cheek while you nose at the dark hair at his base. Even though he had just showered, you can smell his familiar scent and-

"Did you use my body wash?" you ask, laughing softly.

He shrugs. "Mine was empty, what was I supposed to do?"

You'd swear he never mentioned it when you were making your Amazon order the night before, and although pregnancy has left you with about two working brain cells so you very well could have forgotten, you suspect that he's lying and he did it on purpose thinking that it would set you at ease if his balls smelled like tangerines (or at least get a laugh out of you, which it did).

But he's not laughing when you lick a long stripe down the underside of his dick, just groaning and moving his hand from your shoulder to the back of your neck. You swirl your tongue over the head and lap at the wetness there like you're desperately thirsty. Even though you've barely done anything, he seems just as desperate, the muscles in his legs twitching as he tries to keep from thrusting into your mouth.

"Liv. No," he says, voice stern. You thought that the way you were sucking the head of his cock into your mouth would be enough to distract him from your hand sneaking back toward your drenched pussy, but you should've known he'd be watching you.

"But-"

"Did I say you could?" Reluctantly, you shake your head. "That's right. I already let you come once, so you're not getting off again until I do." You clench your thighs, partly to test his reaction, and he doesn't miss it. "No. Keep your legs spread."

"Good girl," he says when you do as told, hand gently stroking your hair. You take him in your mouth again and, without warning, start swallowing him down deeper. Your movements are slow and gradual and you know it has to be hard as hell for him to stay still right now but he does, holding onto your hair a little tighter as he grunts his encouragement. "Fuck, that- that's good, baby, take it. All you can."

You exhale through your nose and use your hand to cover what your mouth can't. Despite your grand plans of deep throating, he is big and you're out of practice. He doesn't seem disappointed, though, especially when you start licking wetly at his shaft. The muscles in your jaw start to relax and you moan around him, the vibration causing him to lose the last of his self control and thrust forward.

He hears you gag softly, and for a second he freezes and you're afraid he's going to pull away, so you put your hand on top of his to reassure him. When he still doesn't move, you're about to cry in frustration- but then he does it again, his dick hitting the back of your throat, and the noise he makes has your clit throbbing.

It doesn't take long at all for you to fall into a rhythm, letting him guide you with his fingers threading through your hair as he fucks into your mouth. The heavy weight of his cock on your tongue, the tang of his sweat, and the way he's babbling almost incoherently has got all your senses on overdrive and your whole body aching with need. "Liv, oh. So good. Liv. Baby. I want, I want..."

You're well aware of what he wants, his balls in your hand again as you keep your lips wrapped around him. His movements are getting jerkier and you can feel him throbbing in your palm and then he's digging his fingers into your scalp as he comes in hot spurts down your throat.

You had grand plans of swallowing it all but *fuck* that was kind of a lot more than you expected and anyway, he's reaching under your arms and hauling you up onto your knees so that he can lean down and kiss you. You're completely wrecked, come on your chin from where it had leaked out of the corners of your mouth and a thin string of saliva hanging off of your bottom lip from when he'd pulled you off of his dick, but he still doesn't hesitate to dive right in, his tongue sweeping across your own. "Shit. Is- was that alright?"

"God yeah," you say breathlessly. He swipes his thumb over your chin and holds it up to your lips, smirking in appreciation when you suck it into your mouth.

"You look so fuckin' hot like that." He notices the way you're squirming (and not just because of the little person also squirming in your uterus) and his smirk grows wider. "What do you need, Liv?"

"I think you know," you grit out, trying to keep the whine out of your voice.

"Nope. Hey," he adds when he sees the look of frustration on your face, "you had me begging just a minute ago. Turnabout is fair play."

"I need to come. Please."

He drags his finger down your breastbone, considering. "Again? So greedy."

"Please," you repeat, and he raises his eyebrows in amazement as he looks down at you.

"Jesus, that thing is soaked," he says, nodding toward the pillow you've been kneeling on. "Is that how much you like sucking my cock?"

Your belly is blocking you from seeing it for yourself, but you nod and your cheeks flush as you remember how you could feel yourself dripping the entire time. He rubs his chin and motions for you to sit back on your heels. After he checks to make sure you're not uncomfortable in that position, he adds "Good. Now finish yourself off. I want to watch."

Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when you plunge two fingers into yourself at once. Normally you'd just go straight for your clit when you're already this worked up and find relief in seconds, but your pussy's been desperate for something to clench down on ever since he started sucking on your tits.

"Another," he says, and you gladly obey. You close your eyes because his are fixed on you and looking back at him would be sensory overload. It's already almost too much to take, the sound of his voice above the sound of your slick fingers thrusting upward. "Good girl, that's it. Come for me."

You don't have to look at him to know that his eyes are focused on your tits and the way they're bouncing as you fuck yourself on your fingers, whimpering with the effort as you lift yourself up and down. "Ah. I'm... fuck, I'm close..."

"Rub your clit for me."

"I'm- ah!" You're so tight around your fingers as you come that it's almost painful, and you hold your free hand to your mouth to keep from waking both Noah and your neighbors when you feel another gush of wetness coating your thighs.

Your knees start to buckle again and you're about to tip over when your scruffy-bearded knight comes to your rescue and helps you to your feet. As a thank you for helping you up off of the floor, you hold out your fingers to him. He licks each one in turn and then kisses you on the top of your head. "I'll be right back. Drink some water."

You reach for the bottle on your bedside table and take a few long sips before lying down, pillow positioned underneath you because you're not allowed to lie flat on your back anymore. Now that your choices of sleeping position have been reduced to sleeping on your side, you're appreciating what a luxury it was to have a choice in the first place- something you won't take for granted again.

There's things you'll miss about being pregnant, though, like the reassuring way that feeling your baby move inside you grounds you and keeps you from retreating too far into your own head at moments like this.

Speaking of your head, you sigh in gratitude when you feel a cool washcloth being draped over your forehead. "Figured you'd be too tired to get into the shower."

"What, you're not going to run me a bath?" you ask, grabbing his hand when you see his guilty expression. "I'm kidding, hon. Sit."

"Are you sure?"

"As nice as that sounds- I don't want to fall asleep in the tub."

He lies down behind you, his front to your back, and you put your arm over his when he drapes it across your chest. "I'll watch to make sure you don't, if you want me to?"

"No. Just stay here," you say, resting your chin on his forearm.

"Gladly. Everything alright?"

"Yeah." The (very long) road toward building back your physical relationship has been a one step forward, two steps back sort of process and it's still ongoing, the whole getting pregnant thing notwithstanding. It's not that you don't trust him. You trust him with your life, more than you'll ever trust yourself, which is part of the reason that you're more comfortable when he's taking charge. And even though your therapist assures you that it's completely normal that you would be hesitant to make yourself that physically and emotionally vulnerable, no matter who you're with, you don't think that's part of the problem. The real issue is that feeling too good, enjoying yourself like that a little too much, tends to come back and bite you in the ass. Take the morning after the night when Noah slept over at the Amaro's and you and The Boyfriend played around with the camera, how everything was fine when you went to sleep but then the nightmares came, how you denied that anything was wrong but then wouldn't (couldn't) get out of bed the next morning and blew up at him when he asked again if there was something wrong. He went to go pick up Noah on his own and you locked yourself in the bathroom and cried in the shower until the cold water had numbed you all over.

It was such Classic Olivia. But that's just it, that you're trying so hard not to be her anymore. You apologized, because New Olivia admits when she's wrong, and he forgave you even though you've never really given him a full explanation for why you get this way. He thinks it has something to do with you always feeling like you don't deserve to be happy, and maybe it does, but there's more to it than that. You've never told him that mentally, there's part of you that's still on the floor of your old apartment with your hands cuffed behind your back, drugged up on some unknown substance and torn because there's something wrong here, you're not supposed to like this, so then why are you-

"Hey," he says softly, breath ghosting over your ear. "Stay with me, okay?"

"'m sorry." Your therapist thinks that you should tell him that part of the story; that it would help both of you, and maybe she's right. But you can't. You just can't. Not because you're afraid that he'd be disgusted with you- you already have the corner on that market. It's for the same reason you're reluctant to share all but your most vehement triggers, because they give away too many details of what you've been through. He knows a very basic outline and that's enough. Saying it aloud makes it too real; would do nothing but bring the memories to life and multiply the pain by passing it onto him.

He takes the cloth that's draped over your forehead and dabs at the sweaty back of your neck, the coldness helping to bring you back to the present. "You didn't do anything wrong. Just trying to keep your mind from wandering."

"You know me too well," you say as he puts his hand between your shoulder blades and your muscles automatically go slack. It's your unspoken signal to release the tension in your body when he can see you holding yourself stiffly, since you don't take kindly to being told to relax.

"Past, present, or future?"

"Um. Little from column A, little from column C," you admit in response to his question about where your anxieties are coming from.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" When you shake your head no, he doesn't push. "So how are you feeling about right now?"

You gingerly turn toward him and get as close as your belly will allow, touching his bare chest to remind yourself that this is your current reality, not the world that exists in your head. You're right here, warm and safe and loved, with your baby floating around inside you and your other baby asleep just down the hall. (You also just had two mind blowing orgasms to boot).

"I'm...right now feels pretty good."

When the corners of your mouth turn up into a rueful smile, he kisses your forehead and rests his hand on the top of your bump. "And how's she feeling?"

"Worn out, I think. She finally stopped kicking me." You raise an eyebrow at him, finding it easier to calm yourself down as you focus on the feeling of him rubbing your stomach. "What about you?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Not too bad, not too bad. Y'know, you said I knew you too well... but I had no idea you could do that. I'm just saying. Wow."

"I'd do it again," you assure him, then pause as you glance down at your joined hands. "Well. Maybe after the baby comes. I don't think I'll be able to do much of anything pretty soon."

"We'll find a way," he promises.

Perhaps it's not surprising that his hand wandered upward, and even less surprising that you gave him the go-ahead when his fingers brushed over the underside of your breast and he looked at you questioningly. You closed your eyes and leaned into the touch, your nipples extra sensitive from the beard rash forming from your earlier activities, and soon he was rolling you onto your side and sliding into you from behind. It's not the position you usually prefer, but it's perfect for times like this when you're already tired and overstimulated and want to be close to him more than you want to be fucked hard and deep.

"Don't wanna," you complain afterward when he tries to nudge you out of the bed. When he doesn't budge, you pull on the t-shirt you'd been wearing and head to the bathroom, ducking into the hallway to check on Noah before going back to your room. "Still sleeping."

He looks on with appreciation as you take your shirt off again and climb into bed, wanting the comfort of being skin to skin. "You could've left the bathroom light on."

"I don't need it." You normally don't have a problem with sleeping in the dark unless you're alone, but depending on how you're feeling, you'll occasionally turn the light in the bathroom on and close the door halfway so that your side of the room stays illuminated.

He holds up his hand and you press your palms together, fingers intertwined. I love you. "I'll get up with Noah in the morning. You sleep as long as you want."

"You don't have to do that, I'll wake up needing to pee anyway-"

"Then you can go back to bed after. Wake up when you're ready and take that bath you didn't get tonight." He switches off the lamp and puts his arm around you to pull you close. "I've got you."