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Her walls mold around the length of my cock, milking me with every movement. Cora is definitely every man’s dream woman in bed. She gives everything during sex, holding nothing back.
“I’m almost coming,” Cora cries.
I grip her hips tighter and thrust upward with more force and urgency. I know that she’s coming when her eyes widen, and she lets out a series of loud, throaty cries.
My cock throbs before releasing a string of cum deep inside Cora’s pussy. I shudder and groan and continue pumping through my orgasm. When it’s over, Cora collapses on top of me, and I cradle her, holding her close.
Protective feelings come over me as I hold her. I think about the baby growing inside her. My baby. I’ve heard dads-to-be saying that it doesn’t feel real to them. I can relate to that. I wish I could picture our little girl snuggled in Cora’s tummy, growing by the day.
Cora’s breath returns to normal, and she slides off me. She flicks a switch, and the room is flooded by light. She lies down facing me. “How did you come to spend the night?”
This was from someone who seconds ago was demanding that I fuck her. I’m not sure whether the question is friendly or not.
I turn to my side to face her. Her hair covers her cheek, and I’m tempted to smooth it back, but I don’t. I’m not sure about where I stand. “I felt bad leaving you alone. Do you want me to leave?”
“It’s a bit too late for that,” Cora says, a note of amusement in her voice. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yeah.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted when you told me that you were pregnant. I’m sorry, and I deserved to have cushions thrown at me.”
She cracks a smile, but the wary look does not leave her face. If we’re to have a go at this parenting thing together, I’m going to have to be a little more honest with her.
I clear my throat. “There’s something I never told you when we were dating. I was married before.”
Cora’s mouth forms an ‘O.’
Familiar pain creeps into my chest, and I harden my heart. It’s been almost four years. Enough time for the pain to abate, but sometimes I wonder if it ever will. Though, to be honest, I now have moments when I remember something from my past with Tessa, and I laugh.
I really was an asshole. How could I have not told her something so huge like I had been married just months earlier? Then the answer comes to me. If I’d told her about my marriage, then I’d have had to tell her that I’d lost Tessa.
It had taken me years to say that out loud.
“What happened? Divorce?” she says.
I hate this part where I have to explain that we did not divorce, but that wife died. Guilt usually follows, and it’s no different when I tell Cora.
“Tessa died in a road accident.”
Cora covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. Oh God, that’s terrible.”
“It’s four years ago now,” I tell her as if it makes a difference when I lost her. The fact remains that I lost her.
Cora narrows her eyes. “That would mean that when we met three years ago, it had almost just happened. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. “I’d been in a bad place and could not even bear to think about Tessa let alone talk about her. Anyway, I’m telling you this now so that you can understand why I never want to marry again.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Cora says tightly.
I curse myself. I always say the wrong thing where Cora is concerned. “I know.” I search for the right words. “What I want to say is that I’m not good at relationships.”
She rolls her eyes. “Believe me; I know that.” She has a right to roll her eyes. I’ve been a complete bastard to her.
“After I lost Tessa, I was done with relationships. And of course, that goes for babies too.”
“You should have worn protection then.”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve said that to myself.”
Cora abruptly sits up in bed and swings her legs over the edge. “Look, Thomas, I know that you’re probably feeling guilty right now, but you don’t need to.”
“I’m not feeling guilty—”
“I’ll take care of my baby myself.”
This was going downhill fast. “You’re getting me wrong, Cora. I’m willing to take responsibility for my child. I just can’t promise anything more than that.”
“What does that mean exactly?” she says, the atmosphere between us still icy.
“It means that I want to have a relationship with our child.”
She gets back under the covers but doesn’t face me. She looks up at the ceiling. “This is turning out to be so complicated and so hard.”
