Lora pushes on my shoulders when I flatten her to the bed, but I can’t move a muscle. “Get off!” I merely grunt, my heart and soul floating on clouds of joy. “Might hurt the baby,” she says with a hint of fear.
That snaps me out of my haze, and I fling myself off her onto my back, pulling her on top of me. She lays her head on my chest while she tries to catch her breath, and my mind spins.
“Do you really think you might be pregnant?” I don’t know if she can hear the hopeful gleam in my voice, but it’s definitely there. “I mean, I knew there could be a chance…”
When she missed her first period, I went through her period tracking app on her phone. My heart had fallen when I learned how irregular her cycle was and had nothing to do with pregnancy. The silver lining was I could keep giving her my cum without her finding out just yet.
“Yes, you stalker. If you’ve been cumming inside me every night, it explains why I keep getting sick. I thought I needed to go to the doctor and get some anti-anxiety meds, but since I don’t have health insurance anymore—”
“Shit! Ok, here’s what we’re going to do…” I roll Lora onto her back, then rush to my dresser to open the top left drawer before returning to her side. “First, we’re going to get married,” I say, shoving the 1.5-carat diamond engagement ring on her finger.
Lora stares at the expensive rock, her eyes sparkling as bright as the diamond. “What the—when did you—?”
“I was always planning on marrying you. Always. Just have to move the time frame up so we can add you to my health insurance as soon as possible.” I jump off the bed and yank her by the hips to the edge. “Second, you’re going to be a good fiancée, and let me celebrate by eating your ass.”
“Wait, no!” Lora tries to wriggle away, but I yank her back, drop to my knees, and brace her feet on my shoulders.
“Fuck yes, pretty girl. I bet it’s as sweet as the rest of you.”
“Blake! No—oh god, yes,” she moans when I part her juicy cheeks, bury my face between her thighs, and force my tongue through her sweet as fuck pucker.
Epilogue
Lora
After nursing and rocking my eight-month-old son, Noah, to sleep, I lower him into his crib. I can’t help but stare at him, smiling at his tiny parted lips and the fullness of his round cheeks. He has a little bit of both Blake and me in him, with his mop of dark curls and my brown eyes.
Giving birth to him was emotional for many reasons, including getting my first glimpse at the only biological family I have and seeing myself in another person’s features. I’m sure I’ll still stop short and take a moment to stare at him long after we’ve gone gray and wrinkled with age.
I blow him a kiss, then tip-toe out of his nursery, which used to be my bedroom. Blake never allowed me to sleep separately after the first night we were together, and we converted my bedroom after my OBGYN appointment confirmed my pregnancy, shocking all of us with how far along I was—nearly three months pregnant and entering my second trimester.
Thinking back, all the signs were there at the beginning—the nausea, trouble sleeping, and weight gain—but I never in a million years would have guessed they were due to being pregnant since I’d never had sex. Or so I thought.
Dr. Rodriguez questioned, out of curiosity, how I hadn’t known I was pregnant until I was so far along, but I couldn’t tell him that my obsessive stalker-slash-husband, who had dragged me down the courthouse to marry him just days after we figured out I was pregnant, had been secretly filling me with his cum every night. I’m sure he would have called the cops, which was the last thing I wanted.
Of course, that’s what I should have wanted if I wasn’t as crazy as Blake. Who in their right mind would have been turned on by Blake’s criminally insane behavior?
Me. That’s who.
It didn’t take me long to fall in love with Blake after that. To become as obsessed with him and his brand of all-consuming love once he dropped the tight leash on his feelings. He tells me all the time that my body and soul were made for him. The same is true of his body and soul—made for me.
Now, here we are, planning our future following my upcoming graduation from my junior college. I’ve decided to attend the nearest university to finish my bachelor’s degree. We’ve already chosen the area where we want to purchase our forever home and then fill said home with more children. In short, all my dreams are coming true—just not how I imagined they would.
I have just enough time to shower and hopefully get in a nap as well before Blake gets home from his meeting with a realtor. After growing his web design business and hiring a few more employees, he’s looking to open his first brick-and-mortar office between here and the university. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to study and do my homework once he’s no longer working from home, distracting me with his hard dick, waiting to pounce on each other as soon as Noah is asleep.
In the bathroom, I strip out of my T-shirt and nursing bra, wet from my leaking milk, and twist my hair up, securing it with a large claw clip so it doesn’t get wet. As always, I search for Blake’s hidden camera since he still won’t tell me where it is.
My stomach cramps when I finish stripping off the rest of my clothes and sit on the toilet with my knees spread to remove my tampon. I was one of the unlucky ones who got my period within two months of giving birth, and this one is particularly brutal.
When the bathroom fills with steam, I step into the large shower and remove the detachable shower head. Arching my back, I direct the powerful stream over my heavy breasts, then lower, over my belly and pelvis. I sigh, letting the hot water ease the ache. My hand dips a little too low when I step my feet out to wash between my legs and the stream brushes against my clit.
I gasp as my core tightens and, figuring I’ll give my husband a show in case he’s watching, I brace a foot on the jutting shower bench and intentionally flick my wrist back and forth to play with my clit. Coupled with the cup of tea I plan to have, an orgasm is exactly what I need to relieve my cramps and help me fall asleep faster.
Closing my eyes and pretending that it’s my husband playing with me, I moan, “Oh god, Blake, just like that.” I twist to sit on the bench so I can pull my knees up and brace my feet on the edge, then spread my pussy lips with my free hand and direct the stream to pound directly against my clit. “Yes, yes, yes, you always know how to make me feel so good.”
I scream and drop the shower head when there’s a thump on the tiled floor, and Blake buries his entire face in my pussy, rubbing his nose against my clit while he forces his tongue deep inside me. My scream is cut short by a moan when my husband yanks my ass closer and shoves a slick finger through my back hole.
He must have coated his hand with the massage oil he likes to use on me whenever he’s too rough, which is almost always. He just can’t control himself when it comes to fucking and filling me with his cum. He says the minute he gets his hands on me, his baser instincts compel him to claim me, and there’s no holding back.