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He rolls over and takes me with him without dislodging our connection.
In fact, I think he’s getting hard again.
I look up and his eyes are devouring everywhere I’m exposed. But when they find mine again, a tiny frown ripples across his forehead. “Everything okay, baby?”
I lick my lips and he groans and grows harder inside me. Before I lose my train of thought, I blurt, “You said we need to talk.”
11
Kitty
Hard resolution settles on his face and he sighs.
“Yeah. Needs to be done, kitten. Even if it involves leaving this snug piece of heaven.”
It’s gratifyingly sweet the reluctance on his face as he pulls out of me. At my whimper of protest, he kisses me, then rises. He goes to my chest of drawers and searches until he finds my underwear.
He stares for several seconds before he selects a blush pink pair. He conducts a thorough, hungry examination of my body before he picks up my leg. Just like before, he drops a kiss on the arch of my foot before trailing kisses to my knee.
He widens my legs a little and groans as his gaze latches between my thighs. I know he’s seeing the thick mixture of our release dripping out of me. “Fuck that’s hot.”
After an age, he exhales loudly and drags the panties up my legs.
“Don’t get used to wearing underwear around me, baby. I’ll be needing ready access to this beautiful body day and night. But, just this once, you can put these on while we talk.”
Heat flames my face. “But…I’m dripping.”
His eyes narrow. “My cum stays exactly where it is, baby. I’m not washing you off me. And neither are you. Understood?”
I nod.
He snaps the panties into place and steps back, watching me as I get out of bed. My tits bounce all over the place, and he stares, entranced, licking his lips as his half-erect dick twitches. A pained groan rumbles free before he snatches up his T-shirt.
He holds it out to me, and joy fizzes through me at the thought of wearing something of his. After spending the last months kicking myself for not taking something of his to keep close to me—even as impossible as it would’ve been—I’m ecstatic to be drenched in his scent when I pull his shirt over my head.
My legs wobble when I stand, but Monroe smiles and snatches his boxers and jeans off the floor. When they’re on, he holds out his hand to me.
My eyes widen. “Where are we going?”
“To the kitchen. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve lost weight,” he grunts, disapproval thick in his voice.
I bite my lip. “I wasn’t…I didn’t have much of an appetite,” I confess.
His eyes soften a little and he nods when I place my hand in his. “You didn’t know the rules, sweetheart, so Daddy will let you off the hook this once.”
I’m wondering what he means when he tugs me closer and swings me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and tuck my face in his wide chest, just immensely grateful to be this close, even if I’ve committed some unfathomable sin.
After three glorious orgasms, I’m putty in his hands. For now.
I know I need to woman up and tell him he’s going to be a father.
He walks through my house like he knows every inch of it, and it triggers a thought. “How did you get in?” I ask when he strolls into the kitchen.
He stares down at me. “You think something as simple as locks will keep me from you, baby?” he murmurs.
A blush warms my face and I’m growing giddier by the second when he sets me down on the island stool. He stares transfixed at my bare thighs before he spins around and stalks to the fridge.
He grabs several ingredients and starts constructing the largest sandwich I’ve ever seen. When he sets it down in front of me five minutes later with a glass of milk, I blink in shock. “I can’t eat all of this,” I protest, then grimace when my stomach rumbles, shaming me. Looks like my appetite is back with a vengeance.
