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“Come for me again. One more good one, and I’ll give you what you really want. I’ll come inside you, but first you have to come for me.”
That sexy pussy of hers spasms around my cock as she comes a second time, her screams louder. She digs her teeth into my shoulder, and I let the showerhead fall, knowing the sensation is getting overwhelming now. I draw back, arch my hips to make sure the tip of my cock drags along her inner walls, one after the other, until I reach the G-spot. The third time I make her come, it’s on my cock alone, her mouth wide as she gasps for breath.
Only then do I let myself go. Fuck her hard and fast against the wall, my hands so tight on her ass it’ll probably leave bruises tomorrow—but she always loves when I do that. She says it marks me as hers.
I can’t help but agree.
I thrust into her again and again until the pleasure builds too hot and hard. “I’m gonna come, Ashley. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Fill me up, Damon,” she manages to pant, breathless, lost in the sensation, the same way I am.
I finish with a deep, guttural growl, and keep thrusting as I feel my hot cum wash inside her pussy, filling her, until the stream trickles out of her pussy and down both our legs, white hot even under the warm shower water.
“Fuck,” she breathes, when I finally release her legs, let her slide down the wall to a stand again.
“Fuck,” I agree with a breathless grin. Then I aim the showerhead at her body, intent on washing her off. But she has other ideas, grabs it from me, and we’re at it all over again.
I lose track of time. I lose track of everything, until we collapse into bed, what feels like hours later, both worn out and breathing hard. I pull her to my chest and cradle her close, loving as always the way her warm body feels pressed against me, tucked perfectly into the curve of my arm. Despite all the showering, neither of us is particularly clean, but I don’t mind. I like her better when she smells natural. Like herself. And like me, like sex all over her.
“So,” I murmur into the nape of her neck, just before I plant a long, lingering kiss there, that makes her shiver in my arms. I pull her tighter against me, the stirrings of lust already tightening in my stomach again. I can never leave her alone for long. I can’t get enough of her, not even now, after all this time together.
I hope I never get my fill of this woman.
“So what?” she asks, with a coy smile over her shoulder.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, eyebrow lifted as I roll her over and pull her in for a long kiss. “Did you just want to surprise me?”
“Maybe.” That coy grin widens. God, she’s sexy when she’s holding something over me. It’s why I can’t complain, even when she does keep secrets on occasion. They always turn out to be great secrets.
“You’re a terrible liar,” I tell her.
“Bullshit.” She licks my lips, then nips at the lower one, playfully. “You just know all my tells.”
“Maybe. Now tell me what this is all about.” I lift a brow.
She searches my eyes for a drawn-out, quiet moment. Then, without responding, she slides a hand under the pillow. Withdraws it and hands me something.
It’s a tube. A slim one, white plastic, just the right size to fit in my palm. My heart skips a beat, already guessing… But I have to turn it over to be sure.
Sure enough, it only takes one glimpse of the bright pink little plus sign on the white stick to set my heart skipping over itself again. “Ashley…”
“I’m pregnant, Damon.” Her eyes sparkle, tears of happiness glittering at the corners. She’s holding her breath, waiting to see how I react. But it takes me longer than I expected to catch my breath, because holy fuck.
I never expected this. Never expected that my life could feel this way. So perfect, so… complete.
When I don’t reply for a moment, Ashley bites her lower lip, face crumpling into concern. “Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Okay?” I choke out. Then it all hits me. This is real. I catch her in my arms, pull her so tight against me that I can feel every inch of her body against mine. “Okay? Ashley, I’m fucking amazing. I can’t believe this.” I draw back just far enough to see her face, to see that beautiful, sexy smile as she bursts into relieved laughter. Then she’s crying, and I’m kissing away the tears, and we’re both laughing, breathless with excitement, with joy. “I can’t believe you,” I finally whisper against her ear, holding her close. “You are so fucking perfect. I never imagined I could feel this happy. That life could be so perfect.”
“And to think, just six months ago, we met as enemies.” She smirks at me.
I shake my head and kiss that damn, sexy smirk off her mouth. “We were never enemies, Ashley. Just two pawns in a game who needed to learn how to take control.”
“Now we have.” She smiles into my kiss.
“Now we’re in charge. And life is only getting better from here.” With that, I roll sideways and pull her on top of me, both of my hands going to the flat plane of her belly, to smooth over it, my fingers exploring every inch of her. “Now, Ms. Marrón, mother of my future child…” The words alone set off a flare in my veins, a spark that threatens to engulf me. “How shall we celebrate your newfound status?”
She grins and wiggles against me, her hips digging into mine, making my cock begin to stiffen again. “I have a few ideas…”
“I do too,” I say, lifting a brow and smirking up at her. “This time, it’s my turn to lead.”
And as I roll over on top of her, the room whirling around us, her laughter filling my ears as we heat up the bedroom, I swear, I have never been happier. Because deep down, I know what this means. Ashley, her pregnancy, our future. This changes everything. Solidifies it. Makes it realer than before.
Today is the first day of our forever.
THE END
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Chapter 1
"Remember why you're doing this," I tell my reflection. The girl in the mirror looks doubtful. She's dressed for the part, in sky-high heels and a slinky lace babydoll lingerie top, not quite see-through but close enough. But despite her tousled hair and plumped-up lips, she doesn't look like an escort. She just looks like... well, me, playing dress-up.
I shift on my heels, trying out a different pose. One knee bent, hands on my hips, chest out...
Not working.
I turn the other direction and try again.
Sigh. Does it even matter? Are you supposed to try to look sexy for your clients, or do they not even care as long as you're warm and willing?
My nerves flare once more, and I pull out my cell to check the site again. Thank god I found this website, a way to advertise for myself, so I didn't have to get involved with any weirdos like the pimps you see in movies and TV shows. I've found myself watching way too many episodes of Law and Order SVU in preparation for this and it's freaking me out.
I stare at the profile of my first client. No photo on his account–but of course, who would want to put their profile on a site like this? You definitely don't want your mother finding out that you're hiring an escort.
My stomach does a little flip just thinking of that word.
This isn't exactly the life I imagined for myself. It's something I never would have considered even just a few weeks ago. Before...
Well. I clench my fists. Before my stepfather stepped in.
The girl in the mirror is grimacing now. Not a cute look. I force myself to think about something else–anything besides the staggering sum of money I owe my stepfather. The drama that drove me into this impossible decision.
I reread the last message from my client. Giovanni. I wonder if that's his real name or if he faked it to further hide
his identity. Either way, his credit card verification went through, and from his emails, all crisply polite and businesslike, he sounds as non-creepy as possible.
But what kind of guys go to escorts? What kinds of guys need to buy sex? Broken men... dangerous men?
The knock on the door nearly sends me leaping out of my skin. My phone tumbles to the floor and I leap to my feet, smoothing down the babydoll lingerie one more time.
