Page 111 of Dark Truths

“I want to try something.”

“What’s that?” Curious about where his mind is going.

"Trust me?" He asks.

"Always."

Dimitri leans back down and sucks hard on one breast. I feel milk flow into his mouth but he doesn't swallow. Instead, he pops off my nipple and then scoots down between my legs and opens his mouth. Warm breast milk falls, coating my entire pussy in the precious liquid. Before I can say anything, he climbs back over me and shifts his hips. I feel him notch his tip at my entrance before he slowly presses, one perfect inch at a time. Holding on to his shoulders, I give in to the feeling of him filling me when he buries his entire cock inside me.

"Lubricant?" I snort. "Really? We don't need any." We never do. All it takes is one wink from him, or a subtle touch along the back of my neck, or the way he caresses the back of my hand when he's driving and I’m soaking wet, eager for his touch.

There's a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I know. Your pussy is a greedy little thing. Always soaking wet for me." He rocks against me slowly and it makes me feel somehow more full and riding the edge, ready to fall. "I wish you could see what I see. Such a good fucking girl, taking every inch of me. So perfect,” Dimitri praises. “You doing okay, angel?”

“Mhmm.” I press up and capture his lips in a kiss, giving his bottom a small nip at the end. “Now, are you going to fuck me or not?”

His chest vibrates with a growl before he unleashes himself. He slams his hips into me and angles himself in a way that has him brushing against my clit with every thrust. The pregnancy has made me so sensitive that my pussy tightens in no time. “Yes, that’s it,” he pants, driving harder. “Come for me.”

I cry out, every muscle in my body seizing as I come hard and fast. Dimitri keeps his pace steady, riding out my orgasm with me when he slows and then eases out of me. He taps the side of my hip. “On your knees, angel.”

I eagerly do as he says, taking a pillow with me, before I place it under my belly for support.

“Perfect,” he admires, running a hand down my back. “What a fucking view.” He playfully smacks my ass, and then he’s sinking back inside me, all in one fluid movement. I moan when he fills me to the hilt. “That’s it, angel. Right here. Deep and tight.” He buries one hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and grips my hip with the other before leaning forward to ask in my ear, “You ready?”

I nod, unable to speak or do more than simply breathe in this position. It’s become a favorite of ours as I grew larger. Because at this angle, Dimitri can go deeper without my massive belly in the way.

“Kiss me, angel,” he demands. I turn my face to him and our lips meet in a consuming kiss that leaves me breathless. He pulls away and smacks my ass one more time before he slams into me with such force and speed that all I can do is hang on for the ride. Each thrust pushes me closer and closer to another orgasm, and I chase it. I need it.

“Come with me, angel.” He groans and swells inside me. His movements grow uneven and jerk-like. “I want to fill this pussywith so much cum, it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk across that stage.” He releases his hold on my head and slides his hand around the front to rub my clit. That’s all it takes. One, two, three swipes and I shatter. Dimitri follows quickly behind, thrusting one last time so deep that I feel him everywhere.

After a few seconds, he pulls out and rolls over, being careful to keep his weight off me. I follow, turning on to my side to rest my belly against his hip. It helps relieve the pressure off my back. With my head resting on his chest, my eyes snag on the fresh scar along his side. It’s small and pink and slightly raised still. It’s a constant visible reminder of how far we’ve come since then, since the night I almost lost him. He hasn't had to be on oxygen for a months now, but he'll always suffer from lingering consequences. Like his workout induced asthma. I try to cover up my sniffle, but he hears it.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m just thinking.” Pregnancy hormones are no joke. It’s a miracle I’m not already a crying mess given that today I graduate as a Nurse Practitioner. A day I’ve been waiting on for what seems like forever.

“About what?”

“Today.”

“Mhmm.” He raises a hand to play with my hair before kissing my forehead. “I love you, angel.”

My eyes water, and when the first tear hits his naked skin, he shifts to sit up and pulls me with him. His thumbs wipe at my eyes, his blue gaze intense with concern. “What is it really? And don’t you dare say nothing.”

I snort softly. He knows me too well. “I saw the scar, and it just reminded me of how I could have lost you that night at the cabin.”

“You have me, angel.” He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Always.” His kiss is soft, a gentle caressing of ourlips that doesn't ask or push for more. He knows exactly what I need and how much of it.

Softly exhaling, I whisper against his mouth, “I love you,” my words barely audible.

I’ve been having small contractions since the ceremony began. At first, I wrote them off as Braxton-Hicks, but they’ve gradually grown worse, and now radiate across my entire lower back and belly. But I’m not about to tell anyone. Not when I’m standing in line ready to be called up on stage. If I do, they’ll pull me from the line, and I’m determined to walk across that stage. I’ve earned it. I’ve spent years giving blood, sweat, and tears for this one moment. And until my water breaks or the contractions get closer, I’m crossing that damn stage.

“You okay?” a student behind me asks. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m good. Just nervous.”

I grip the railing of the staircase when the line moves forward. Only a few more names. I can do this. I have to do this.

“Gabriella DiAngelo,” the announcer calls my name. I take a deep inhale, square my shoulders, and force one foot in front of the other to cross the stage.

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