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Oh, fuck.
He still doesn’t know that I’m pregnant.
Is he going to try to see me naked?
I try to shy away from him, keeping the focus on my pussy as I kick my shorts down all the way off.
“No, I want to suck on your tits now. I’ll be back inside you in a second, I promise,” he whispers.
He begins to lift up my shirt, and I try to pull it down.
His expression changes for a moment, but he moves on and starts to take his pants off.
I want to feel him inside me again, but now I feel like the atmosphere is different. I don’t know if he saw my belly either. Would he know the difference between a pregnancy bump and a little bit of weight gain?
He takes his cock out of his boxers, laying me down and lifting my legs onto his shoulders. He slides so much deeper in this position, and I shriek in a combination of pain and pleasure.
“Do you like that? Can you take all of it?” he growls, picking up speed until he’s fucking me furiously.
I want to respond, but I’m in the grip of another orgasm as it wells up in my lower belly. I try to break through it to answer, but I start to cum before I get the chance.
“Yeah? You like it so much you’re cumming on my dick?” he continues, his own voice growing breathy and labored as he nears climax.
He pumps slower, trying to fight the urge to let go after being deprived of an orgasm for three months. I watch his face change, his eyes rolling back as he forces himself to make a decision.
“Oh, fuck.”
The orgasm wins the fight.
He thrusts harder and faster as I scream again, filling my pussy with months’ worth of sexual desire and repression.
When he rolls off of me, I realize that my shirt has ridden up, and my little belly is showing again. Matteo glances at me questioningly, but he doesn’t ask me anything.
That’s almost worse to me.
29
Iris
I’m still coming down from all of the primal chemicals swirling around in my bloodstream.
If I wasn’t in love with Matteo before, I definitely am now.
I thought I would be a lot more nervous to bring him up to my apartment, but the heat of the moment after almost getting caught inspired my bravery. I needed to have him no matter where, and why waste a perfectly good bed?
As we’re lying in bed naked under my blankets, I’m feeling the warmth of his body radiating off his skin. I curl up to him, absorbing every bit of him before he inevitably leaves. The thought of him getting up and leaving me here alone in my apartment gives me that sudden, unforgiving vibration of uncertainty and insecurity.
How could I ever make him stay?
“So, what was it like in prison?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet as if the volume is what would make the question inappropriate.
He turns to me, amused that I would ask him something like that after we’ve just had sex.
“I mean, it fucking sucked. It wasn’t as bad as jail though. I’d rather be in prison than in jail,” he replies, pulling a cigar out of his pants pocket from off the floor.
“Um, can you not smoke in here? I don’t want to be reported,” I say, cringing into myself for even speaking up about it. I honestly just hate cigar smoke.
He turns to me, eyes narrowed, putting the cigar back into his pocket and dropping the pants back on the floor.
