Page 125 of Cruelest Contract
Fifteen minutes later I return to bed wearing only a pair of briefs. Cecilia leans on a lap desk and continues to write in her journal. It’s the one I gave her. The pen she’s using also came from me. She’s here in my bed, wearing my ring. This is exactly where she belongs.
I’ve never been the possessive type. That track record went out the window the second I touched this girl. She’s mine and she’ll stay mine.
Cecilia uses her pen to keep her place and carefully closes the book to give me her full attention. I slide closer to her, careful not to jostle her knee. My cock doesn’t care that this is supposed to be a tender moment and I’m instantly hard.
She smiles and rubs a hand over my newly shaved jaw. “Hi,” she whispers. Her long lashes flutter when her eyes drop to my mouth.
I take the hint and lean in for the claim. Her lips are parted by my tongue. The lap desk gets pushed aside and her arms tug me closer. She makes a needy sound in her throat that lights a savage fuse inside me and she shoves pillows away before sliding down to her back.
Kissing Cecilia always gets me so riled up that I don’t know how I can stand to ever be away from her. Each time I’m forced to leave her, I hate it a little bit more.
When I’m gone, I struggle to stay focused. My mind constantly strays back to the ranch, back to her.
The knot in her robe belt is undone by my quick fingers. She arches her back, urging me to do more. I need to feel her skin. Taste her pussy. Make her moan. Hear her laugh. I’m fucking obsessed with this girl and the fact doesn’t bother me a bit.
The satin fabric of her nightgown is as soft as butter and slides away with ease. Every inch of her is exquisite and needs the attention of my mouth. She runs her fingers through my hair when I kiss my way down. My tongue skims between her gorgeous breasts and she moans. But when I playfully nibble at a dusky pink nipple, she flinches.
Instantly stopping, I check to make sure I haven’t leaned on her bad knee by accident. “What is it? What hurts?”
There’s a strange look on her face. Her cheeks remain flushed with arousal but her eyes are wide. She sits up and pulls her robe closed. “Sorry, I’m just a little sore.”
How big of a prick can I be? My wife is injured and I’m trying to maul her within thirty minutes of arriving home. Just lower than low.
“I’ll call Dr. Weatherly in town. He’ll be willing to make a house call.” I’m already grabbing for my phone but she places a hand on my arm.
“Julian, wait.”
“At the very least he can prescribe some pain meds.”
“I’m not sure I can take pain meds.”
“Why, do you feel sick? Is it just your knee that hurts or is it something else?”
She giggles. “My boobs.”
Now I’m confused. Her boobs looked fine. Stunning as ever.
“They’re sore,” she explains with an oddly smug grin. “It’s one of the symptoms.”
I feel like this ought to mean something important but I’m slow to catch on.
Unwilling to wait for all the machinery to click together in my head, Cecilia reaches for my hand and places it on her belly.
“I took two pregnancy tests yesterday and a third one this morning. All positive.” She watches my face with a glimmer of uncertainty. “Are you happy?”
What a question. Impossible to answer in words.
My palm covers her belly, still flat for now. On the outside, I probably look like a thunderstruck clown. Inside, there’s a whirlwind of the deepest, tenderest emotions that have ever rendered a man speechless.
“I’m happy,” I manage to croak out so she doesn’t think the worst of my silence.
I press a kiss to her forehead and collect her in my arms. She sighs against my chest and my fingers gently unravel her braid.
As I stroke my wife’s long hair, she dozes off next to my heart with a sweet smile on her face. But despite my fatigue, I can’t even think about sleep.
When I proposed to Cecilia, I had our lives already planned out. I was sure I knew what kind of a marriage this would be. A harmonious, mutually beneficial arrangement that wouldn’t distract from my obligations.
I couldn’t have been a bigger fool.
