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The fact I’m about to attend an event raising money for people to buy Teslas is still fucking ironic. I’ll be interested to see who actually donates and who doesn’t.
I’m sitting on the bed waiting for the guys to be ready so one of them can help put my dress on and zip it up.
Alistair is the first to step back into the main bedroom from the bathroom. As soon as he lays eyes on me in my black lace bra and panty set, a smile spreads across his face. My pregnant belly is on full display for him. I swear the man has a breeding kink. His hands are always finding their way to my belly, showering it with affectionate touches and tender kisses.
I also overheard their conversation the other night while we were in bed, even though they think I didn't. But I heard them discussing how my tits are getting bigger, and they want to sample my milk. Alistair started the kinky talk, but Emerson didn’t shut him down. Just agreed that he’s interested in knowing what my milk will taste like as well.
Savages, the both of them.
Alistair is dressed in a sleek, midnight black tuxedo, complete with a crisp, white shirt underneath. He chose to pair it with a dark brown tie, which almost has a maroon shade to it, and a pocket square in a beautiful bronze color. His obsidian hair is slicked to the side, and his stubble is more of a five o’clock shadow. He's the epitome of sexiness, and although I have to share him with Emerson, I couldn't be happier.
“Don’t you look good enough to eat,” he murmurs as he gets closer to the bed.
My giggle fills the air, and his eyes light up with delight.
“No time for fucking,” Emerson steps from the closet, looking like sex personified. “I couldn't find my other cuff link, so I'll have to go without it. Bet the fucking maid snagged it. I normally wouldn’t care, but these were the last gifts my mom gave me before she died. They were my grandfather’s.”
“We’ll find it, babe,” Alistair assures him, and I nod in agreement.
I can't help but let my eyes roam up and down Emerson's body, admiring the details of his outfit. A navy blue tux with a black tie and a white and navy floral pocket square. His black hair, longer than what is typical, has a natural curl at the top, which adds a unique texture to his hairstyle. His sides are still cut close to his scalp, though, so I wonder why he changed his hair. Until this moment, I hadn't noticed.
“What are you staring at, Little Star?”
“I just noticed your hair is longer on the top than normal. Why are you keeping it longer now?”
With a smirk on his face, he glances at Alistair, who bursts into a chuckle. I look between the two of them, my brow furrowing in confusion as if I've completely missed the punch line of a joke. “What?”
“I like when I’m eating that sweet pussy and you grab onto my hair, holding me to you.” He licks his lips.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say.
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Cupcake. Let’s get you dressed.” Alistair pokes fun at me, helping me to stand from the bed.
I waddle over to the door where my dress is still hanging in a garment bag. Neither of them has seen it yet. I entrusted Margaret with the task of picking it up as a favor, and she gladly obliged. Since Tobin went missing, I've taken on the responsibility of managing the Caputo household, although I haven't made many changes so far. Minus firing everyone other than Margaret and putting her in charge of hiring a new maid to keep the place clean and donating all of Tobin’s shit.
I pull the dress from the bag and hand it to Alistair, holding my arms up so he can help me slide it over my head without messing up my hair. I carefully styled my hair into loose, cascading waves and elegantly pinned it to the side, revealing my left shoulder.
Sliding the long black dress over my body, I effortlessly slip my arms through the sleeves and adjust them to sit just right off the shoulders.
I give my back to Emerson so he can zip me up. He takes a step closer, and I feel the warmth of his body against my back. “Little Star,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe, “you look fucking stunning.”
His hand descends, and he painstakingly pulls my zipper up, each second sending a wave of anticipation through me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I spin around and take a step back, simultaneously glancing at them and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the door. Shit, I look fucking hot. The black floor-length gown clings to my baby bump, accentuating every curve, while a daring thigh-high slit reveals my left leg.
Alistair takes a deliberate step closer to me, his eyes locked with mine. “I can’t wait to see it on the floor tonight. You’ve not ridden my cock since your bump got this big, and I want to watch you.”
See? Fucking obsessed with my pregnant belly.
“Come on, you kinky fucker. We’re going to be late.” Emerson grabs my hand and leads me from the room.
We head downstairs and out the front door to the waiting limousine. “Tonight, Scarlett, I’m still watching you, but I’m also attending as a member of the DeLuca family, so stay by Emerson. Do you understand?”
I nod, my agreement clear as I say, “Yes.”
“Good. And remember what Emerson said the day the plane landed after the honeymoon.”
