The thought of being fucked by both of them forever makes my pussy clench around him, and he groans.
He shifts his angle and hits deep inside me. “Squeeze my cock, lass. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”
I’m so close. The tension coils low in my belly, and I’m panting against his throat, tasting salt on his skin, my nails digging into his back. He’s relentless, each stroke harder than the last.
“Going to fill you up, lass.” His accent is so thick now the words almost blur together. “Going to pump this sweet pussy full. Mine to breed. Mine to fill.”
Fuuuck,I love it when he talks about breeding me, and I don’t care if it’s messed up.
“Please,” I beg because I need permission. “Please let me come, Leo, please.”
“Come.” He slams into me one more time, burying himself deep. “Come on my cock. Now.”
I explode, trembling with the shock of it. My spine bows with the force, and my pussy clamps around him in waves. He swells inside and groans as he slams into me again, his cock pulsing as he shoots his load into me. Imagining his cum coating me and the possibility that he’d really get me pregnant sends me spiraling higher as another smaller orgasm makes me spasm and rock against him.
When we come down from our high, we’re stuck together with sex and sweat. My body is humming, and every muscle has turned to warm liquid. He’s still on top of me, and I run my fingers through his damp hair and press my lips to his temple, listening to his breathing slow before I giggle.
I got edged and fingered, then fucked over a desk before admitting my feelings and then got railed into next week. All before dinnertime.
“Is my pet happy?” He rolls off me with a groan, and I giggle again as I snuggle against his side.
“Your pet is very, very happy, Sir.”
“Good.” He takes my hand and kisses my fingertips. “Now this old man who loves you might need a nap and then a shower before dinner.”
“Mmm, sounds good to me.”
After we nap, we shower together, and Leo notices I’m quiet.
“You okay, lass?”
“More than okay.” I press a kiss to his wet chest.
His hand settles at the base of my skull, thumb rubbing a slow circle, and I melt into him.
“Leo?”
“Aye.”
“What you said about Dane needing someone to come home to.” I trace the line of his collarbone with my soapy hands. “Does he know you think that?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t believe he deserves it.”
My chest aches as I think about Dane telling me about Claire and the loneliness I sensed in his words.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “All three of us.”
Leo kisses me softly. “Aye, we will.”
I close my eyes and let my mind drift as he continues to run a washcloth down my body.
And that’s when it happens. The image of a baby in my arms surfaces without warning. Small and warm and heavy in my arms, with a tuft of dark hair that might lighten to silver when it’s old. It has Leo’s hazel eyes.
I imagine Leo’s big hands cradling something impossibly tiny. That rumbling voice going soft the way it does after he’s taken care of me, but directed at a small, bundled weight against his chest.
My breath catches. A fierce wave of longing rolls through me. It’s not the vague, someday-maybe kind of wanting. It’s a visceral, aching, right-down-to-my-bones. I want Leo’s baby. I want to be round with it, to feel it kick while his hands span my belly. I want to watch him hold something that’s ours.
My pulse races. This was supposed to just be temporary, and now I’m fantasizing about having his baby. He probably doesn’t even want a kid at his age. Wouldn’t he have one already if he did? Hell, maybe he does have one and he’s never told me.
