A/N: Hey peeps! I've been getting some increasingly desperate PMs about the Late series. I won't name names (Schnerbles), but they're going pretty ape over there, so I've taken a morning to write her some literary crack. Don't say I never gave ya nothin'. Word props also goes to the mystery reviewer (Schnerbles), who I think suggested this word ages ago. Remember, Grace is preggo, following Late, Research, Yours, Livid and Implacable.

Desperate

Her bedroom felt different as Grace pulled him inside. He'd been sleeping in this room for weeks now, but walking into it while kissing her for all she was worth made the room spin slightly for both of them. They'd fallen into her bed for carnal reasons in the past, but it had been so long ago. It almost felt like the first time. Rigsby moaned as his sweaty, salty hands coursed over her shoulders and down her back. It felt so good to touch her like he wanted to, like he'd spent every moment dreaming about since they'd parted. She was so damn soft and warm and sweet that his heart cracked wide with anguished adoration. And his baby was inside her, buried deep in his favorite place on earth.

He didn't blame the kid one bit. If he had a choice, he'd slip inside her body and never leave, too.

Grace mewled softly against his mouth and smug satisfaction tore through his blood as his tongue danced roughly with hers. A certainty filled him, one that his insecure mind had never experienced, assuring him that for once, there was someone in his life who belonged to him completely. Two people, in fact. One of which now shared his blood. Rigsby had never given much thought to fatherhood, but the fact that his soulmate was impregnated with the physical outcome of their love suddenly made him pray like hell she was having triplets. He wanted a dozen children by Grace. And as much as he wanted them to have her stunning hair, he prayed just as ardently that they had his eyes. Every time Grace looked at their children, Rigsby wanted her to see him in their faces and know that every last one of them - herself included - was his stake. Little blue eyes smiling up at her would be a constant reminder that only he was allowed to crawl into her bed and make another one with her.

His hands slipped lower and cupped her waist, his thumbs tracing possessively over her taut belly. He growled and moved his kiss down her throat, sucking harder than he usually had in the past, biting and nibbling a path to her collarbone. Grace whimpered and held his head to her, encouraging his wolfish claim. His hunched shoulders rippled angrily as he dipped low to continue his exploration. For the first time in weeks, her hormones were singing with pleasure as the promise of sex ricocheted through her blood and into her groin. His sudden aggressive attack wasn't helping matters. He had always been a powerful and intense lover, but he'd never been a domineering man. His eyes had always questioned softly if he was pleasing her. He'd always made sure he had her consent before he tried something new. He'd always made it very clear that while he might be physically superior, she would always have the power in their bed. And she had adored him for his considerate nature.

But now he was marking her up and purring like an animal and it was turning her on so much that her knees buckled against his onslaught.

She impatiently tugged at his t-shirt and he lifted the damp material up and over his head. Grace keened loudly and swooped in, fastening her lips to his nipple and sucking hard, moaning as clean sweat salted her tongue. Rigsby nearly howled in ecstasy, crushing her to him, his erection stabbing her lower abdomen. She licked him clean from his pectorals to his throat, lapping up his taste, feeding her pregnant body's screeching demand for masculinity.

"Baby," she crooned mindlessly, kissing his pulse point and feeling it hammer crazily under her touch. "Oh god, Wayne."

He was tugging at her clothes, pulling at the hem of her low-cut top and pawing at her jeans. "Grace," he rasped harshly. "Fuck...honey, we don't...I mean...is...is it safe?"

His concern for their baby made her hands shoot straight to his raging cock, working him eagerly through his gym shorts and pushing his brain out through his ears. His question melted into a litany of ragged swearing.

Grace sobbed at the aching void between her legs pounded with no mercy. She shoved his shorts down his legs and instantly dropped to her knees. His sizeable cock throbbed visibly at her position and Rigsby groaned in agony as she swallowed half of him without warning. His hands shot into her hair and cupped her head, his stance broadening, his hips bucking forward.

He'd never held her in place and actively fucked her mouth before. He would never have risked such disrespectful behavior. But she'd pushed a desperate, celibate man by offering him more than he could handle and she hummed provocatively with approval, moving in time to his shockingly wild thrusts.

"Oh fuck! I shouldn't...I...can't..." he moaned through clenched teeth, his pace not slowing one bit. "You're pregnant...I should...be...careful...shit, baby, please!"

Grace arched erotically, pushing her ass out for him to appraise as she continued to pleasure him orally. Grace no longer had control over herself. Her instincts were calling the shots, and they demanded that she display herself like the sexiest, most compliant female in the world and keep her mate focused only on her. Her breasts, already enlarging, were aching for his touch. Her skin crackled with electrified lust. Her core was throbbing so hotly that she was convinced if he didn't take care of her right the hell now, she'd die from deprivation. Her hands, which had been stroking his balls as she swallowed him, went to the back of his knees and pulled his thighs forward. Still sucking him madly, she rubbed his lower thighs against her clothed breasts, alleviating some of their swollen discomfort. Her nipples turned pebbly in an instant, eager as they connected to him, even through her shirt and bra. She moaned gratefully around him and took him deep in reward.

Rigsby choked on his praise. His eyes sparked angrily as her clothing blocked his view of her writhing, begging body. Still holding her head, his hands slipped forward and cupped her cheeks. In a mammoth display of will, he gently pulled out of her heavenly mouth. Looking down at her kneeling form, fierce love sparked alongside his assertiveness.

"Don't make me fuck you, Grace," he gritted softly.

She shuddered at his tone, her mouth falling open at the promise she heard in it. He was asking her to slow down, not to push him into his animalistic frame of mind. He wanted his wits about him, he wanted to be aware, to be in control. If she kept it up, he'd lose his head and simply pummel her until he broke both of them in half. God knew he was capable. The image flared in her mind, his impressive body rocking hard and fast against hers, and damn it all if half of her didn't want exactly what he was warning her against.

But he didn't want it, not like that.

She looked up into his flinty expression, seeing the kind man who inhabited it, and smiled softly. Reaching into her own patience, she calmed her slamming heart and leaned forward to kiss the tip of his tight, angry penis.

"Okay," she replied quietly, standing up and meeting his eyes head-on.

He smiled tightly and tugged her top up her torso, careful to hold the tags, as they often caught in her hair. Her eyes fluttered. Such a simple gesture, and yet, when she felt his fingers close over those damn tags as he pulled her shirt over her head, she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her at his unstinting gentleness. She'd been a damn fool to throw this man away. She'd known it then, on some level, but the fact slammed into her skull as the impossibly aroused man in front of her remembered something as small as her long hair snagging in the dry cleaning instructions.

Trembling with desire, she gave him what he deserved. "I'm in love with you. I never stopped."

It caught him by surprise. His hands came up to clasp her shoulders, only to change their minds and trap her cheeks. She loved when he held her like that. She felt so very, very wanted.

Big, blue eyes gauged her carefully. A man so strong seemed oddly paired with such deep insecurities. She reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her rather plain cotton bra. She didn't mind that it wasn't sexier. She knew him well-well enough to know that when they were this close to the deed, he barely noticed her underwear, being too far gone to see anything except her bare skin. Underwear only hid what he was really looking for. She slid the straps off her shoulders, the garment falling at their feet. Stripped from the waist, she looked at him plaintively. "Wayne?"

His gaze dropped to her breasts, his expression one of amazement. His hands slithered down her throat and chest and cupped them reverently. Grace cooed happily, her head tipping back as sweet relief filled the ample swells. "I..." he grunted, molding them carefully, stunned as his touch seemed to soothe a soreness that he didn't know she had. "I...never..."

"Suck them. Please?" she interrupted softly.

"Jesus, baby," he hissed at her request and dipped his head quickly, taking a straining nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while his hand worked the flesh around it. His other hand attended to the neglected breast while she moaned above him like he'd never heard before. There was so much relief in it. His arms went around her back and yanked her up against him, allowing him to stand straighter as he switched to her other breast and hungrily nibbled her other nipple.

"Christ, your tits are gorgeous," he muttered hotly against them, noting their increase in size. "I could do this for hours."

"No," she rasped sharply, her hands on his shoulders and she leaned back into his hold and gave him unfettered access. "You can have two minutes. After that, if you're not inside me, I'm throwing you out."

He chuckled against her and buried his face between the swells. "There's my brassy baby." He placed a languid kiss there before he pulled back enough to look at her. "Better get your pants off, then. I'm getting lonely being the only one naked."

She smiled as he lowered her to the ground. She unzipped and lowered her jeans and threw them on the pile of his clothes. Standing in her underwear, she saw the expression of his she knew and loved. Blind to her underwear, staring at all her exposed skin. Done with taking it slow, she quickly stripped out of them, as well.

His cock jumped in answer to her naked pussy. It knew where it belonged and it was furious that they were still separated. She smiled at his bothered appearance and gestured to the bed. "Shall we?"

He gave her a lopsided smile and sat down on the mattress, pulling her down until she was straddling his lap. Looking up at her happily, he tipped his lips up towards hers. "Show me you're in love with me," he asked shyly.

She smiled serenely and pressed her lips into his. He groaned contentedly as she opened her mouth and showed him what it meant to be a woman in love with him. She took her time relearning his taste. She writhed gently in his lap, rubbing her dripping cleft along the length of his erection. She murmured his name. She caressed every inch of his face, her adoration palpable in the soft sweep of her fingers.

Rigsby grunted under her attention, his body ready to burst. He managed to hold himself together by a thread. "How?..." he started, then closed his mouth. She backed off a little to let him speak. Her wordless encouragement made him try again. "How should we do this?" he asked, uncertainty tinging his question.

Grace's brow contracted. She didn't understand. He smiled tightly and tried again. Stroking her belly, he asked, "Should I wear a condom? Should you...you know...be on top?" he blushed and she grinned at his embarrassment. "What's best for you, Grace?"

"Nothing has to change, not right now, anyway," she assured him.

His concern didn't leave his eyes. "I need to be gentle with you."

She hummed and brushed her lips over his. "I like when you're gentle," she whispered, "and I like when you're rough."

He groaned and shook his head. "Don't wanna be rough. I want..." he paused, the words getting lost in his lust, "I want soft."

Grace kissed him a little deeper. "I like soft," she agreed.

And suddenly one strong arm encircled her back and she was lifted and lowered to the bed beneath them, her body stretching out under his. He settled between her legs, her thighs instinctively spreading wide. The questions were back in the blue eyes above her. She arched up into his long frame and nodded as she kissed him. "It's okay," she told him. "This is good. Better than good."

She reached between them and grasped him firmly. He arched and swore loudly as she worked him in her warm hands. "No condom," she said. "You won't hurt anything."

Feeling his tension in every rippling muscle, she positioned him at her entrance with one hand and guided his hips with the other. In one slow, fluid stroke, he filled her completely.

"Fuck!" Rigsby choked harshly.

"Oh, god," Grace moaned as she fell back against the pillow, almost going limp at the pleasure exploding in her tight channel.

Rigsby, tense as a high wire, kept good on his word. He let her adjust to him. He kept his weight in his arms. And just when she was ready to scream with unquenched desire, he started to move.

Slowly, oh-so-damn slowly, he pulled out of her. The hot, pulsing suction of her body pulled at him, trying to keep his dick locked in as he retreated. Blinded by a pleasure he'd tried like hell to forget during the months without her, he thrust back in at the same gentle speed. It was a home unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

The woman beneath him sobbed softly and his glazed eyes snapped to hers. "I'm in love with you," he said in a strangled voice. Pumping carefully into the girl he loved and the cradle of his unborn child, he couldn't hold back a single second longer. "I love you more now than I ever thought possible." Grace gripped his shoulders, squeezing him, urging him to continue. His words, his thrusts. Everything.

"Yes," she gasped breathlessly.

"You," he moaned hotly, his pace increasing fractionally. "Fuck, I missed you. I needed you. Every damn day, I needed you."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, and meant it. "I'm so sorry, Wayne. I needed you, too. I never should have let you go. Never."

"You didn't," he rasped. Her legs wrapped high around his waist and he lost a few brain cells as he slipped deeper. "You never lost me. Grace, you own me. You own me like a damned dog."

She made a shushing sound to stop him, pulling him closer, accepting more of his weight. He was breaking her heart with his loyalty. She didn't deserve it. The mindless pleasure he was giving her made her tongue loosen considerably.

"I'm yours," she kissed the words to his lips. Profanity drove him crazy. So did honesty. She arranged her words accordingly, wanting to make him wild with happiness. "I only love you. I only fuck you. Any babies I have will be yours, Wayne." She gasped and bit his throat as he hit a sweet spot inside her. She dragged his hand to her lower belly and flattened his palm against it. "He'll love you too. He'll call you daddy and love you so much that his little heart will explode with it. And he'll be a good man. Just like you."

Grace cried out, her orgasm triggered by her scenario and Wayne's earth-shattering presence deep inside her. She clutched him and wailed loudly, pulling him deeper, begging him to join her.

Rigsby could only take so much. He rammed deep and roared, the cascade of images she'd dumped into his head were swirling at a dizzying speed, making him lightheaded. She loved him. Their baby loved him. And she wanted their little one to be just like him.

He came hard in her welcoming body, heedless of his earlier fears about ejaculation. Light exploded behind his eyes and left dancing black dots in their wake. He croaked her name, gasping and panting as he emptied himself dry amid her breathless moans of ecstasy. His orgasm hit him so hard that his elbows were buckling under the strain of his trembling weight. Suddenly, he was too heavy for himself.

But he wouldn't lower down to her.

"Grace?" he questioned softly, eyes still huge and watering from his climax. "Can you take me?"

Heavy-lidded, her eyes found his and she smiled. "Luckily, I have help." She gestured to her tummy before wrapping her arms around him, letting him settle his large body into hers. She sighed in contentment as his warm weight pressed her firmly into the bed. No matter how shattering their sex always was, this was undoubtedly one of her favorite parts -being trapped willingly under the protective shield of his upper body. Her arms crossed behind his neck, her fingers curly idly into his dark hair and teasing softly.

"Hmmmm," he mumbled appreciatively. "Damn, I've missed you."

She was too tired to feel guilty. She was too tired to do anything but agree. "Missed you more," she murmured distractedly.

He snorted, but didn't argue further. Instead, he merely lifted his head to gaze at her. "Hey. You have my baby," he said with a mixture of teasing and awe.

She snorted in reply, her fingers still caressing his scalp. "Yeah, well. You put it in there." There was a defensive pout in her tone that made him smile.

"I'm a daddy," he rasped softly.

She nodded. "You're a daddy."

He lowered himself enough to kiss her languidly. "You're both my babies," he said dreamily.

She didn't have the heart to tease him, going instead with the truth. "Yours," she returned his kisses. "No matter what."