Page 36 of Cream
“You’re giving it… the best cum. Ah! It wants more.”
“I’ll give you more. I’ll breed you so hard you’ll faint.”
“Do it. Harder.”
Then my brain short-circuited.
He changed the angle somehow and sped up, and pleasure exploded in my middle.
I didn’t remember much after that, only glimpses of crumpled sheets, a blurred forest behind the window, loud cries, and snippets of dirty talk.
“Such a greedy womb. Fuck, Jamie. It sucks my dick. So horny.”
I kept coming… and then everything turned quiet.
12
JAMIE
I had seven heat waves, and he bred me during every single one.
The last morning of our journey looked a little bleak. I woke up alone on the bed, a damp towel under my ass. I knew immediately that the heat was over. The constant undercurrent of arousal I’d felt before was gone, replaced by a sense of satisfaction and a mellow sensation in my muscles.
I sat up and stroked my stomach. It looked a little swollen, but that must be due to the heat and breeding. It would get smaller again before it would grow for real.
Wow.
I was really pregnant.
With Mr. Hartley’s baby. With Morton’s baby.
Why was I smiling?
I petted the curve of my belly and cupped my pec with my other hand.
Was it weird that I saw myself as beautiful all of a sudden? My womb and pecs were full of life, and I liked it. I adored it.
The door squeaked, and I jerked as if I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
Mr. Hartley was carrying a tray.
“Morning, Jamie. Are you hungry?”
“Good morning. Yes, please. I just need to…” I gestured to the bathroom.
“Sure. I’ll get it ready.”
He set the tray on the nightstand and began tidying up the bed as I scrambled off and stumbled to the bathroom. I rushed through my morning routine, then put on my silk pajama pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Morton waited for me on the made bed, breakfast ready by his side. I climbed on to join him carefully so I wouldn’t spill the coffee.
We ate breakfast like a picnic on the bed. We didn’t talk much, but I caught his gaze many times and each time he smiled at me.
I was gathering the courage to ask what had been niggling at me since I’d woken up.
“Morton,” I began.
He seemed to perk up at my use of his name. “Yes, darling?”
