Page 10 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

But I would never say no. I hoped to die one day with my dick buried inside her, so that I never lived one second of not having her.

I slid my torso down from the headboard, easing her pussy over my groin until my shaft was coated with her arousal. “That’s it, beautiful.”

She whimpered as she lowered onto me, trembling as she took me inch by inch until her pussy had engulfed me entirely.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” I groaned, as I felt her clamping around my shaft, savoring the look of abandon that came over her. I moved my hips up and down slowly, watching the rise and fall of her belly, and enjoying the feel of her greedy cunt.

“I needed this,” she moaned, beginning to match her timing with mine, lengthening my strokes until I could feel her clit slamming into the base of my dick, sending shudders rolling through her body.

“I love the way you look on my dick, beautiful.”

“Harder, please,” she said breathlessly, more a request than a demand. She knew better than to think she was on top for long.

“As you wish, beautiful.”

I thrust into her as fast as I could, and each time she gasped until the moans became desperate grunts more than anything resembling words, as though the next syllable was unable to start because the last one hadn’t ended. She settled into one long, endless plea. “Fuck me. Fuck me, sir!”

Still, I found myself distracted by her belly, worried that I would hurt her by being any rougher. I could care less about my orgasm as long as Belle came.

Her body went rigid, her fingers curling into fists against my chest. “Ohhhh—”

“That’s it, beautiful,” I said. “Let go.”

Belle’s blank expression turned to abandon, her whole body spasming against me as she rode out her climax, her fingers splaying wide to claw for better purchase as she shattered. Despite my determination not to care about my own pleasure, I couldn’t help myself. The sight of my perfect, pregnant wife orgasming on my cock pushed me over the edge.

After, I laid her gently on the bed, the wispy strands of hair behind her ears damp with sweat, as I removed the blindfold.

“That was...” she began, but never finished.

I helped her into the bathroom, even offered to help her clean up—but no matter how difficult her belly might have made it, she wouldn’t hear of it, excusing herself to the toilet. She emerged a minute later looking ravishing—and thoroughly ravished.

“Proud of yourself?” she teased, looking at my crooked smirk.

“A bit.”

We returned to the bed, Belle seeming twice as tired as before but half as stressed.

I laid awake long after she’d fallen asleep, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was an old habit, but it always calmed me. Tonight, though, my nerves remained frayed. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that pile of bones, the skull sitting on top. I wondered if they’d slept in this house, too. I wondered if someone guarded them then. Soon, I’d find myself pacing between my sleeping wife and my sleeping daughter, watching the miracle of their breathing. I hated closing my eyes, letting her slip from my sight for even a moment felt like a betrayal of the promise I’d made myself that she’d always be safe with me. How much harder was that promise going to be to keep with sleepless nights ahead of us? Slipping from the bed, I carried the remains of our evening meal to the kitchen. Then I double checked all the locks and the security cameras. All was as it should be. Everything was in its place. Everything but the bones of strangers lying in wait in my cellar.

My feet carried me to them without thinking. I flipped on a worklamp and ducked carefully under the police tape. They’d photographed them and then laid them out in a neat orderly row. A bunch of bones that looked like femurs and ribs—but it was the skulls that stuck with me with their hairline cracks. Proof their deaths had been anything but natural. There were six of them in total, no longer piled in that gruesome pyramid I saw when I closed my eyes, but I knew exactly which one had been on top. It was the one I saw when I closed my eyes. You can’t erase the sight of a skull that small from your mind.