She nodded. Her eyes reddened, but no tears fell.
My hand slid down her slim back, tracing each vertebra, finally gripping hers. Her fingers were cold; I wrapped them in my palm, interlocking tight, like locking in the warmth forever.
"Before I go, I want to take you somewhere."
"But Maya..." She hesitated, her constant worry. But it got resolved quickly—not by me, by Maya. She laid down the law, reminding Ella they'd been apart once and she'd been fine, proving she didn't need round-the-clock care. To seal it, I hired two VIP nurses. I swore, not even an ant could get near Maya while Ella was gone.
Ella finally agreed, but gave me just one hour.
I drove her to a top-tier apartment building in downtown Rochester. The city's tallest, priciest landmark. I swiped into the private elevator, taking her straight to the penthouse duplex.
The doors opened, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows pulled in the city's sprawl. Horizon stretched far, streets rolled below, clouds skimmed so close you could touch them.
"One of Rochester's best spots," I said from behind, watching her lips part in awe. "Penthouse duplex, three thousand square feet, four bedrooms, five baths. Private study, gym, sunrise terrace. Top security, priority doctor access. Maya can take the first-floor guest room post-discharge—best light."
She turned to me. She seemed to get it, but disbelief lingered.
"Why bring me here?"
"Because it's yours." Firm.
She froze.
Then she shook her head like it'd burned her, yanking her hand free.
"No, Lucas. Too much. Our relationship was over... okay, maybe we're back together, but no gifts this extravagant. I'm fine. I don't need luxury like this."
I strode over, blocking her escape. Backed her against the window, cool glass and my heat trapping her.
"Not charity, Ella. This is what you deserve. Best place, top care. And," I dropped my gaze to her belly under the loose clothes, voice rough, "our kid shouldn't grow up in some cramped, dim rental. He should open his eyes to the world from up here."
I reached out, hand gentle over the soft fabric, stroking her stomach.
That's my child.
She trembled hard, a tiny protest escaping her throat, but my touch left her weak.
I knelt on the thick cashmere rug, eyes level with her bump. Reverent, I leaned in, lips pressing the slight curve through her hoodie. My blood, growing there—fingers shook at the thought.
"Lucas, don't. This isn't right..." Her voice broke, trembling, but it only fueled me.
I ignored it. Fingers hooked her hoodie's hem, pushing up slowly, determined.
Noon sun poured unchecked through three walls of glass, lighting everything stark. At this height, privacy vanished under endless blue sky, shame and thrill brewing wild in the air.
"Lucas, please..." Her hands gripped my shoulders, half-stopping, half-not.
I looked up. Her face glowed holy in the light. I steeled myself, stood, yanked off her hoodie, baring her smooth, pale skin to the sunlit glass—like creamy silk. My breath hitched. Hands circled, unhooked her bra. It dropped, her perky pink nipples budding, cute, inviting.
Pregnancy had rounded her curves, that lush, ripe temptation hitting me with her scent. My cock strained against my pants. I couldn't hold back—pinned her to the cold window, hot palm pressing her swollen belly.
"Lucas," she quivered. "I'm scared."
"I'll be careful," I promised. "Swear."
Outside, endless blue skies stretched above us, sunlight blazing down while the entire city sprawled far below like a forgotten toy.
I kissed her hard, mouth, throat, and collarbone, then dropped between her thighs and devoured her pussy. Her body jolted violently, trembling between fear and raw need.
