Page 67 of The Bartender's Baby

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I urged her to her side, her ass at the edge of the bed, then lifted her top leg, opening her up but still keeping her comfortable. A real pillow princess now.

With one hand holding her leg up and the other twisting at her nipple, I slowly entered her. She was tight, wet, and warm, and I had to fight the urge to thrust into her hard and fast. I wanted to savor this, enjoy these fleeting moments when it was still only the two of us.

I moved lazily, my hips rocking against hers, listening for every hiccuped breath, making sure she could feel every inch of me because I could certainly feel every ripple and contraction of hers.

She gripped the sheets, her eyes closed, and I shifted forward slightly, skating my hand up from her breast to below her throat. “You okay, princess?”

She nodded. “Fe-feels so go-good.”

“Yeah, it does.” Well worth the little bit of research it had taken to find a good position. “You know how fucking good you feel? Every time with you. It’s always so good. If I didn’t have to go to work, I’d do this all day. Fuck this sweet little pussy until you screamed my name. Over and over, all day long. Hm? What do you think of that?”

She nodded, mumbling something.

“Didn’t quite catch that.” I brought my hand down to where we were connected, circling her clit. “You need to speak up.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Make me come. Make me come hard.”

I increased the pressure, the speed, the tingling and heat in my spine building until I was there too. She panted my name, her muscles convulsing around my cock, milking it for all it was worth. Greedy little thing.

I emptied myself into her, continuing to move slowly in and out of her, not wanting to release her yet. Enjoying this hazy middle-of-nowhere bliss too much, but she didn’t seem in any big rush to move either. With her leg still wrapped around my middle and my fingers still trailing all over her, we stared at each other, our chests rising and falling at the same rate, our breaths synced.

When I finally did pull out of her, I cupped my hand over her pussy, because it was mine and I liked the idea of keeping my come inside her.

From her irritated yet amused puff of air, she liked it too.

She was mine, I was hers, and I loved anything that proved it.

After a few moments, she shifted, telling me, “I have to pee.”

I helped her up and then chuckled as she waddled to the bathroom, knowing she didn’t like the cleanup. But she’d have to get used to it.

I’d be coming in and on her for the rest of our lives.

Couldn’t put the beast back in his cage now.

TWENTY

TABBY

Ismoothed my hands over the curve of my belly, taking a deep breath as I checked myself out in the mirror. I owned exactly one cocktail dress that was neither appropriate for a June wedding nor able to fit over my gigantic belly. So, I’d ordered this pleated black chiffon dress online.

I wrinkled my nose, turning side to side.

“What’s wrong?”

I glanced up from the mirror in the bedroom to find Nate leaning against the doorjamb, handsome in his black suit and tie, beard and hair freshly trimmed.

“You look really good,” I said, gesturing between us. “And I look like I’m wearing a garbage bag.”

He crossed the room, wrapping his arms around me, Lucy dancing at our feet. “You look beautiful.”

“I look huge.”

He skated his hands down to palm my belly. “I think you look like an eight-months-pregnant woman.”

“Very swollen.” I poked at my face. I’d never thought of myself as particularly worried about my appearance, but lately, I couldn’t stop obsessing. My face was broken out, my feet didn’t fit into my shoes, and I couldn’t stop sweating. Physically, thispregnancy was relatively easy, but I still didn’t like how different I felt in my body. Like it wasn’t my own.

I had no control over it.

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