Semua Bab Pleasured By My Husband's Twin Brother : Bab 191 - Bab 200

CIARA.The nursery was finally done. Soft gray walls, the crib Cain had put together with his own hands, and the mobile Seraphine insisted on buying even though it drove Cain crazy with how often it played its little tune. I stood in the doorway with a cup of herbal tea, one hand on my growing belly, watching late afternoon light stretch across the floor. Alice had texted earlier. She was back in classes, thriving, sending pictures of her latest exam scores like proof she was really okay. No immediate threats. No surprise calls from the past. Just us, settling into this new life like it might actually stick.Cain came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist, hands automatically finding the curve of my stomach. His chin rested on my shoulder. “You keep staring like you’re waiting for it to disappear.”I leaned back into him. “Old habits.”We’d been home a week since the honeymoon. Routine was starting to form. Cain worked from the small office down the hall most days, still keeping

CAINI woke up to an empty bed again. The sheets on Ciara’s side were cold. Clock said 2:17 a.m. I rubbed a hand down my face and cursed under my breath. Third night in a row.I knew where she’d be.The nursery door was cracked open, soft light spilling into the hallway. I pushed it wider and leaned against the frame, arms crossed. There she was, in one of my old black t-shirts that barely covered her ass, hair up in a messy knot, folding tiny onesies like her life depended on it. The changing table was covered in stacks of clothes sorted by color, size, fucking season. She’d moved the crib two feet to the left since yesterday. Again.“Baby,” I said, voice rough from sleep. “Come back to bed.”She didn’t even look up. “The light in here hits the crib wrong in the morning. And these sleepers—” She held up two identical blue ones. “They’re the wrong thickness. What if it gets cold? Or too hot? I need to order better ones.”I stepped inside. The room smelled like fresh paint and her lave

CIARA.The living room smelled like vanilla cake and fresh-cut flowers. Alice had gone all out with a small balloon arch in soft yellows and greens that bobbed gently near the window. Seraphine kept topping off my glass with sparkling water, watching me like I might break if I moved too fast. It was just the three of us plus Cain, who stayed close, pretending to scroll on his phone while really keeping one eye on everything. Intimate. Sweet. But my chest felt tight the whole time.“Open mine next,” Alice said, sliding a brightly wrapped box across the coffee table. Her smile was wide, the kind she used to give me before life got complicated. “I saw it and thought of you two immediately.”I peeled the paper back slowly, fingers a little clumsy. Inside was the tiniest leather jacket I’d ever seen, complete with miniature zippers and patches. My throat closed up. “Alice... this is perfect.”“Kid’s gotta have style,” she teased, but I saw the way her fingers twisted in her lap. We were al

CAIN'S POVThe call from the bedroom hit me like a fucking freight train.“Cain!” Ciara’s voice cracked. “Something’s wrong. I’m bleeding.”I was on my feet before she finished the sentence, heart slamming against my ribs. Blood on the sheets. Not a lot, but enough to make my stomach drop straight through the floor. She sat there clutching her belly, face pale, eyes wide with the same fear I felt ripping through me.“Stay calm, baby. I got you.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt. I grabbed her clothes, helped her dress, and had her in the truck in under three minutes. The drive to the hospital blurred. Red lights. My hand on her thigh the whole way. “Breathe. Just breathe. Kid’s tough. Like us.”She kept whispering, “What if something’s wrong? What if I lose—”“Don’t.” I cut her off, gripping the wheel tighter. “Don’t go there. We’re not losing anything.”Old shit clawed at my chest the whole ride. Losing my mom. Watching Simon tear everything apart. The years I spent wanting Ciara

Ciara’s POV A sharp band of pain wrapped around my lower back and squeezed. I froze halfway to the kitchen, one hand gripping the back of the couch. The contraction lasted maybe forty seconds but it felt longer. When it eased I let out a shaky breath and kept walking. Probably nothing. Braxton Hicks had been messing with me for weeks.Another one hit ten minutes later while I was pouring water. Stronger. Lower. I set the glass down hard, water sloshing over the rim.“Cain,” I called. My voice sounded thinner than I wanted.He appeared in the doorway instantly, hair still messy from sleep. “What’s wrong?”“Contractions. I think.” I rubbed my belly in slow circles. The baby shifted, pressing down hard. “They’re coming closer.”His face changed. That calm mask he wore when things got serious slipped over his features but I saw the flash of panic in his eyes. “How close?”“Ten minutes? Maybe less.” Another wave started building. I grabbed the counter, breathing through it. “Shit. That on