Page 52 of Shark Bait

When I move away from him, he doesn’t pursue me even though I wish he would. I wish he would try to unzip the dress again so I could tell him no and move away again. I could pretend to be mad at him so he could chase after me. That just tells me how much I like this man.

But Shark is careful with me, careful when I say no or retreat from him. I can appreciate that. Yet, mixed signals won’t help us navigate our complex relationship, so I step closer, gesturing at the zipper. “I don’t want to rip it.”

Shark takes over, a warm presence behind me. “The fabric is caught.”

A moment later, he lowers the zipper, and the dress loosens around me. I face him and look up. His chestnut eyes appear black in this space lit only by a small night light on his side of the bed. I lay my palm on his chest, then push. He takes the clue and sits on the mattress, his legs spread. I step between them, the dress already sliding down my body and off the tops of my breasts.

Shark unbuttons his shirt and removes it, revealing his lean, muscular body. I hold on to his shoulders and try to push him back on the bed, but he stays sitting up, not letting me pin him down.

“Wait,” he says. “Is there anything you don’t want to do?”

“I should ask you that question, because I intend to do many things to you.”

Shark smiles. “Okay, is there something particular you’re into?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really had a chance to explore sex.”

“It’s precisely why I ask,” he says.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about what we’re into and not into. I can’t know what I like until I’m doing it or not doing it. I just want to be normal.”

“Tell me what’s normal for you.”

“Tonight, I want to keep my dress over my belly when I ride your face and hold on to that new headboard, digging my fingernails in it in hopes I can come so hard that I leave marks on the wood.” I swallow, my face burning.

“Do you want to fuck?” he asks.

I can’t answer him because I’m so embarrassed. A man has never spoken to me like this before. “Do you?” I whisper, biting my lip, nervous he’ll say no.

“I wouldn’t call what I want to do with you fucking. I’d call it breeding. I need to come inside you, repeatedly. I want you so full of my seed that it makes you feel like you’re growing my baby.” His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows.

“I was tested when I found out I was pregnant so I’m clean.” In a way, I’m also telling him nobody on the yacht touched me. I hope he believes me. “How about you?”

“Clean and always wearing condoms.” Shark pulls down my dress, and my breasts spill out. They’re larger now than they ever used to be, and when he takes one and squeezes, my nipple leaks a clear fluid.

“Oh God,” I whisper, mortified. “What…”

Shark cocks his head, then squeezes again, then leans in as if he’ll suck my nipple. I try to pull away, but he grabs my hip to hold me in place as he sticks his tongue out and licks.

“Fuck,” he mutters and looks up at me, eyes filled with desire. “This is a first for me.” He squeezes my breast again, but nothing comes out this time. Shark licks the nipple and then starts to suck. The sensation makes me arch my back at the same time that Shark pulls down his pants and fists himself.

He strokes himself as he sucks my nipples before he tucks a hand under my dress and slides a finger over my wet entrance. “I’m happy to find you wet,” he says. “Your pregnancy and all these perks that come with it turn you on as much as they turn me on. I’m pretty sure I have a new kink.” He pushes two fingers inside me and starts to slide them in and out.

I hold on to his shoulders and ride his fingers as he adds another, widening my entrance. We’re both panting as he fingerfucks me and takes care of himself.

“You better not come in your fist,” I tell him.

“Then you better start riding, cowgirl.”

“Cowgirl,” I repeat with a smile as I raise a knee on the mattress. I attempt to climb him, but the dress restricts my movement. When Shark tries to take the dress off, I stop him. “Just lift it up and cover my belly.”

“Won’t work for me. I want to see your naked belly.”

I bite my lip. “Do you really?”

“Yes, really.”

“What if it turns you off?”

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