Page 33 of Mafia Baby

He pauses for a second, allowing me to catch my breath, and then his rhythm speeds up and becomes more desperate. I grip his back and moan into each of his thrusts, feeling him getting even harder inside me until he stiffens with one final deep thrust.

I hold onto him until he rolls over on the bed, breathing hard.

We shift to lay on the pillows, I face the window, and Dom wraps his arm around me from behind. We’re a bundle of sticky wetness, and I know I should go pee, but right now, I don’t want to ruin the moment to go and clean up.

“So, do I need to take you home?” Dom breathes into my ear.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.” I nuzzle further down into his hold.

“Stay the weekend?”

I turn my head to look at him. “If you’ll have me?”

“One condition.”

“Okay?”

“No clothes allowed.”

I laugh, and Dom joins. Then, he kisses my lips before I turn over and close my eyes, breathing in his fresh rain and sandalwood smell as I feel myself slipping into a deep sleep.

***

Dom’s breathing is steady next to me, telling me he’s still asleep. I roll onto my back and lay my hand on my belly. I send a silent good morning to the little life nestled within me, then look at the man who helped me create it.

My heart is breaking at the thought of having to surprise him with the news about this baby. What if he doesn’t want to help me raise it? What if he gets angry?

He looks younger as he sleeps, his long, dark eyelashes creating little shadows on his cheeks.

I know he’s a very bad man, but he has always been so kind to me, and we have a strange connection that I cannot explain.

I ponder my pregnancy, and realize that I was sloppy about taking my birth control all the time when I was with Guy as well, but never got pregnant.

Maybe the universe was looking out for me. It would have been terrible to have a baby with Guy.

I feel the familiar morning nausea taking a hold of me, and I get out of bed carefully and head to the bathroom. I try and throw up quietly. I don’t want to have to explain my continuing illness to Dom. He’s not stupid. I’m sure he would have questions.

I lay on the floor in the bathroom, waiting to feel a little more alive. As I rest, I think about what I’m going to do.

I need a job. Not a volunteer job like a rich woman. I need a real job.

I cannot rely on my family's money to save me now. I don’t have any idea how to get a job, though.

My thoughts turn to Dom. He owns a business. Maybe he can help me figure out some kind of job so that I can be independent from my family. I want to be able to separate myself from them in case they don’t approve of my pregnancy. Plus, I’m far too old to be living at home.

I start to feel more human, and I get up off the bathroom floor. I shiver a little and wrap my arms around myself. I spot a bathrobe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and put it on. It’s Dom’s, so it’s comically large for me, but it’s warm. I decide I might be able to stomach some herbal tea, and I head to the kitchen.

“Hey!” Dom says from the bed as I emerge from the bathroom. “I thought we said no clothes.”

He gets out of bed and comes into the kitchen naked and magnificent, sporting impressive morning wood.

His hands slip under the robe, cupping my breasts. They are so tender now that I’m pregnant that I gasp as sensation rockets through me.

“Let me brush my teeth,” I say to him, conscious of the fact that I was just throwing up a few minutes ago.

“We don’t have to kiss,” he says to me, whirling me around and lifting his robe. He thrusts into me in one firm movement, and I’m lost to the swirling tide of pleasure, gripping the edges of the kitchen counter for balance as he makes me come again.

***

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