Page 50 of Bad Duke

“Say that in four months' time when I’m the size of a whale.” I rest my head back against the mirror and enjoy how his tongue glides up my neck.

“I can’t wait,” he whispers as I tug at the tie he’s wearing and start to unbutton his shirt. He works fast at his belt, ripping it open and taking out his cock, proving that there's not going to be anything slow and soft about our wedding night. I’m not the least bit disappointed about that when he fingers my panties out of the way and fills me in one hard thrust. Nothing about our journey to here has been slow or soft.

“Do you like the pretty, little belly I’ve given you, Olivia?” he asks, cradling my cheek in his hand while his forehead presses against mine.

“Yes.” I nod, the best I can for him.

“It’s making me wild and fucking feral for you,” he warns, kissing me again as he fucks me deep. “You take my cock so fucking well, Mrs Stanley, every fucking time. You cling to it like you're still a virgin.”

My whole body scorches at the sound of his voice. Alex is always giving me compliments, I like how they sound and I like the way he’s looking at me right now, like I’m the start and end of his world.

“You're going to enjoy every second of being my wife. I’ll make sure of it,” he promises, sliding his hand between our bodies and scissoring my clit between his fingers.

“Now, be a good wife and come for your husband.”

ALEX

NINE WEEKS LATER

Olivia walks into my office and slams the door behind her. She has that cute, little pout on her lips as she marches toward me and flops herself on my lap.

“Well, I’m officially unemployable.” She looks down at her now, very noticeable baby bump and crosses her arms over the top of it. The word that springs to mind is good but I can see she’s in one of her more delicate moods so I avoid it.

“What makes you think that?” I slide my hand up under the top she’s wearing so I can stroke her. She’s twenty four weeks now and I swear, she grows a little bigger every day. It gives me a lot of satisfaction to see that.

“Well, I can’t hide this anymore and I can’t fit into half those clothes you spent a fortune on. No employer is going to hire someone they know will be going on maternity leave in a few months,” she points out.

“Would it be so bad for you to just relax and rest during this very crucial time?” I tilt my head at her and she looks as if she wants to swing for me.

“Alex, you know how bored I get, I miss the kids. I even miss the stroppy teenagers who think they're too good for a foundation class. I’m sorry that I’m not your ideal vision of a wife bearing your child, sitting around knitting. I?—”

“You are my ideal vision of a wife, bearing my child.” I lift her top all the way up so I can see how she’s progressing.

It’s hard not to get off on the fact her whole body is changing because of me. It’s not just her stomach that's swelling up nicely, either. Her tits are starting to fill out too.

“I’m starting to feel like a hermit. I miss my Wednesday coffees with Harriet, and meeting Elsie for lunch on a Friday.” She gives me that bratty pout again.

“They don’t enjoy coming here?” I frown, I’m fully aware that the restrictions I’ve put on Olivia must seem confusing and frustrating, but I’ve done my best to ensure she still gets to see her friends.

“They love coming here, but I’m desperate for a change of scenery. Right now I’d even withstand another one of Elizabeth Winfield’s awful parties for a chance to get out of here.” She proves how desperate she’s getting.

I wish I could tell her why I’m being so cautious with her. My wife has been so accepting of the way I’ve been handling her lately, and she’s right. There may be a looming danger out there that I’m still none the wiser of, but I can’t keep her here like a prisoner.

“How about you and me go to that new Italian restaurant tonight?” I suggest, already figuring out how much security I’m going to need, in my head.

“Like a date?” Her smile lifts all the way to her eyes.

“Yeah, like a date.” I hit her with one back.

“I better go find something to wear.” She leaps off my lap and races for the door then turns back around and rushes back to kiss me.

“She loves the idea of Italian.” She’s still got that smile on her face when she looks down and touches her stomach.

“You feeling him move, again?” I correct. We may have agreed at our last ultrasound that we didn’t want to know the sex of our baby, but I’m pretty convinced it’s a boy. She, however, is telling herself it’s a girl.

“All the time, it’s strange but it feels really good. I can’t wait for you to feel her too.”

I have to admit to being a little jealous that she gets to experience our child moving before I do, but I’m sure he’ll be strong enough to make himself known to me soon.

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