Page 13 of Dallas
“Belonging to me means never having to worry about anything because I will take care of everything from here on out. Belonging to me means having all your needs met, physically and emotionally. It means I will take your safety very seriously from here on out. It means not doing anything that might endanger yourself. It means following the rules I put into place to ensure you are never at risk. It means accepting my discipline when you break those rules. It means always going to sleep with a satisfied smile on your face and my come in your pussy.”
I can’t breathe. My legs are shaky, but he has a grip on me that’s firm enough to ensure I don’t collapse.
He squeezes my thighs tighter, hauls me closer, and dips his head to kiss my stomach before meeting my gaze again. “Belonging to me means accepting that I fully intend for your belly to be round with my child as soon as possible.”
I gasp. On some level, I had to expect him to feel this way. After all, Claire is already pregnant, and I suspect Reagan is well on her way, too.
Dallas’s fingers inch higher between my thighs until he teases the edge of my panties.
I rise onto my toes, panting.
He reaches farther to stroke a finger over the cotton gusset between my legs, smiling as he does so. “Soaked.”
My cheeks pinken. I’m embarrassed, and I want to close my thighs.
“You want what I’m offering, don’t you, baby?”
I refuse to answer, but I can’t keep from moaning when he strokes over my clit. My eyes roll back. No one but me has ever touched me there.
His hands slide up to my hips, taking my dress with them. He drags his fingers along the edge of my panties. “Lace… Inside my demure librarian is a wild girl who has never let herself out.”
I nod because he’s right, though I don’t think I fully understood that until he showed up. “Are you going to have sex with me?” My voice wobbles.
He shakes his head. “No, baby. I already told you I wouldn’t. Not today.”
“Oh.”
“Not until my ring is on your finger.”
I stare at him, stunned, as my jaw drops open. Finally, I shake my head to clear the cobwebs. “That’s…a bit antiquated, don’t you think?”
He grins. “It worked for Ryder and Tiago. I understand why they did it now.”
I gasp. Ryder and Tiago made Claire and Reagan wait until they were married to have sex? I don’t understand. And why is he sharing something so personal?
He chuckles. “We don’t have many secrets in the mansion, baby. It’s hard to keep them, plus why bother?” His fingers slide higher, and he strokes the underside of my breasts with his thumbs.
My eyes roll back in my head. My breasts feel fuller and heavier. My nipples are so hard they ache. I’ve touched them every night this past week, pretending my fingers were Dallas’s, but now he’s so close to stroking them, and I want it more than anything in the world.
“Fuck, your tits are amazing. I can’t wait to worship them with my mouth. I can’t wait to see them fuller and heavier when you nurse our children.”
I’m going to pass out. How does he make nursing a baby sound so sexy? I’ve always thought the act of nursing seemed painful and all-consuming. I figured if I ever had a kid, I would bottle-feed them. But I also haven’t ever really intended to have kids. I never intended to marry.
“What if I don’t want to nurse them?” I argue defiantly, though I probably should have backed up and pointed out that maybe I didn’t even want to have any children.
He lowers his face to my chest and strokes his nose between my full breasts over my dress. “You will, baby. You will bond with our babies nuzzled against your breasts, and when they fall asleep, I will express the rest so I can feed them myself in the middle of the night while you rest.”
Am I hearing him correctly? Did he say he would express my milk?
When he nuzzles between my breasts again, I lean into him. They feel so heavy I can almost imagine what they will feel like full and weighed down with my milk.
He lifts his head. “First, you should kiss me,” he teases.
I lower my gaze to his full lips. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. Threading my fingers behind his head, I lower my lips to his. I have no idea what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter because Dallas drops my dress and frees his hands to bring them to my neck. He angles my head to one side as I give him a chaste kiss.
And then he takes over. His lips are full and demanding against mine. He licks the seam of my lips seconds later, and I open for him, moaning as he strokes his tongue against mine in a sensual dance. After a while, it switches to him sucking my tongue gently into his mouth before he releases it and continues kissing me.
I’m kiss-drunk when he finally pulls back. We’re both panting. He grips the back of my neck to keep me close, angling me so my forehead is against his.
