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“Better than good,” I correct as I lower one of my hands, find her clit, and press my thumb against it. I’m going to come any minute now, and I refuse to come before she does. “You need to come for me, little girl,” I grit out.
She increases her speed, rolling her hips and grinding her clit onto my thumb harder with each downward motion. “Oh shit.” Her hands land on my chest. She uses them as leverage as she continues to fuck me.
“That’s it. Come for me. Show me that beautiful orgasmic face of yours,” I tell her, and she does. Her body shakes as the orgasm rips through her and her pussy gushes all over my cock. Gripping me. Milking me. I come right along with her, emptying myself inside her. “I fucking love you,” I tell her.
“Mmm, I love you too,” she says before collapsing on top of me.
TWENTY-NINE
Iwake up with a sharp pain ripping through my stomach. “Fuck. Shit,” I hiss out.
“What’s wrong?” Alistair shoots up in bed and looks down at me.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine,” I tell him while clutching a hand against my stomach.
“You’re not fine.”
“It’s just… ahh… it hurts,” I say.
“Fuck.” He jumps out of bed and throws his clothes on, before he yanks at the dresser drawers and pulls out a shirt and a pair of sweats. “Put these on. I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.
“I don’t need a hospital, Alistair. I just need to sleep,” I tell him.
“I don’t care. Come on.” He grabs my wrists and pulls so I’m sitting upright. Then he helps me get dressed, picks me up, and carries me out of the apartment.
“I can walk. I’m sure it’s just growing pains or something,” I say.
“Probably. But I like carrying you.” He sets me onto the passenger seat of his car.
Ever since we found out we were pregnant two weeks ago, the man’s been overbearing. Protective. Checking in on me every fifteen minutes, even at work. It’s cute, in a way. The morning after he found out he was going to be a father, he told his partners with a huge smile on his face. I didn’t think he’d be this excited. I honestly thought he’d hate the idea. Run from it. He’s also asked me to marry him every day for the last two weeks. I keep telling him not yet. I don’t want him to hate me, and I fear if I say yes to his proposal, we’ll get married and he’ll wake up one day resenting me.
Alistair tears out of his garage into the early morning traffic. “It’s okay. It’s going to be fine,” he says more to himself than to me.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I tell him while gripping my stomach and trying not to wince. I don’t want him to know just how bad it hurts right now. I don’t want him freaking out any more than he already is. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want anything to happen. I’ve grown attached to this baby already. In just two weeks, it feels like they’re a part of me.
Iwantthis baby. I know I had my doubts, but I really do want this.
Alistair stops right out front of the emergency department. He unbuckles my seat belt, picks me up again, and carries me inside. I don’t argue with him this time.
“My fiancée is pregnant. Something’s wrong. She’s in pain. She needs a doctor,” he rushes out in one long breath.
“How far along are you?” the triage nurse asks me.
“Two months,” I tell her. We found that out at our doctor’s appointment last week, when they confirmed what the million home tests already told us. That I was pregnant.
“Bring her through here.” The nurse presses a buzzer and we’re led to a hospital bed.
“What’s wrong with her?” Alistair blurts out before anyone even has a chance to examine me.
“The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse says. She disappears after she asks me a few more questions. Alistair is pacing up and down the small room when the doctor walks in.
“Good morning,” he greets us.
“Doc, something’s wrong with her. She’s pregnant,” Alistair says.
“Let’s take a look.” The doctor offers us a reassuring smile. “Hi, I’m Dr Mitchell by the way. I’m going to lift your shirt to examine your abdomen. Have you experienced any bleeding?” he asks.
“No.”
