"I'm going to?—"
"I know."
"You're still?—"
"I know." I rocked my hips again, slow and deep. "Feel that?"
She made a sound that wasn't a word.
"Every time you clench," I said, low, "every time your body pulls—that's it working. That's your body taking what I gave you and keeping it." I pressed the vibe closer and she cried out. "You're going to be pregnant, Millie. You probably already are. And we're going to spend all day making absolutely sure."
She came.
I watched every second of it. Watched her face and her hands and the arch of her back and the way she said my name when she went over, and I stayed deep and still and let her body do what it was supposed to do, clenching and pulling, working in exactly the way the research said.
When she came down she was shaking.
I kept the vibe where it was.
"Gage—" A warning.
"Seventeen minutes," I said.
She made a sound that was half laugh and half something much more desperate, and dropped her head back, and held on.
I watched her.
All day, I thought. I've got her all day.
Outside, Sawyer and Wyatt were doing my job.
I had never been less sorry about anything in my life.
FIFTEEN
Millie
Gage took a three-day break from the ranch.
And he didn't. Stop. Breeding me.
I lost track of time slowly, then all at once. The first day I was still aware of the hours. The second day I wasn't.
By the third I had stopped being a person with a schedule and become something simpler. Something that ran on heat and hunger and the specific sound of his footsteps crossing the floor toward me.
He fed me. That was the thing I remembered in fragments—his hand at my jaw tilting my head back, a glass of water, half a sandwich I didn't taste, something warm in a bowl that I finished because he stood there until I did. He was methodical about it, the same way he was methodical about everything. Fuel. Rest. Then back to it.
Back to it.
God.
The bench was first, or first again—I'd lost count of how many times we'd started there. He strapped my wrists and left my legs free and worked me open so slowly I was begging before he'd done anything I could have named out loud.
"Please," I said. "Gage, please?—"
"Please what." Not a question. He already knew.
"Inside me.Please, I need?—"
