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Pulling her flush to me, I bite down on her earlobe while I continue working her faster and deeper. And she’s rolling onto her tiptoes, hunching into me.
“Oh my God,” she half growls and half cries into my chest. “Oh my God.”
“You’re going to come for me, Trouble, and then you’re going to lick my hand clean as you fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Shit.” It’s a ragged moan as she collapses on my hand, shuddering through her orgasm.
Before she has time to gather herself, I pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling my thighs. There’s a moment where the world falls away and there’s just us. Me, Fleur, and our child.
With erratic breaths, she takes my cock in her hand. Everything about her is so dainty that the grip can’t close around my girth. Slowly she rises onto her knees and impales herself on my dick little by little, inch by inch.
She doesn’t move for a moment, her hands bearing down on my torso as she groans. And she feels so fucking good. Her walls choke my cock, pulsing around me while I flex up into her, and with every roll of my hips, she shudders.
“Take it. Take what you need. Take it all, Trouble,” I grit out, thrusting up with a blunt force that has her clawing at me as she cries out. When I pull out, she chases me, impaling herself as deep as she can. I want to split her right down the middle. I want to leave a gaping hole that can’t be filled by anyone but me.
“Oh fuck, baby.” I sit up, blustering into her ear, sounding as wanton for her as she is for me. “Come on, fuck my cock with that greedy cunt.”
Clenching around me as I grip her arse, her hands bracket my neck, holding herself steady as I work her over me. Faster and faster. Deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. Until we’re both gasping for air and with every spurt inside her hot cunt, she trembles and shakes, calling my name.
Chapter 3
CASPER
The village is busy with the monthly farmer’s market. The shops are starting to prepare for Valentine’s, and the artisanal stalls are filled with amorous gifts. The entire time I’m going around grabbing the essentials we need, I keep finding things that remind me of Fleur. It’s fucking distracting. And exactly why I can’t keep fucking her. It’s not like I don’t already think of her constantly, but after the other day, all I can think about is how good it felt to give in.
I swore I wouldn’t make things more complicated. I swore I’d protect her and the baby. And I can’t do that if I’m constantly thinking with my dick. The other day should never have happened. There’s a line I drew, a boundary that I’ve kept since I found the pregnancy tests. But it’s getting so hard to keep it. It’s getting blurrier by the day.
“Can I help you?” a small woman calls from the shop entrance after I’ve been standing by the window, looking at all the baby shit that we have nothing of.
Arabella had so much stuff that Christopher was freaking out about where it would all go, and we have nothing. Zilch. We’ve missed all the appointments and the last scan.
A lead heaviness weighs down in my chest at the thought that I might have put her in more danger than if we had stayed. But then I recall the way Christopher and Freddie were talking of her, and I know that if we had stayed, there would’ve been a lot more blood spilt.
“Umm.” Taking a deep breath, I look at the woman. She balks a little as her eyes roam down the left side of neck, over the tattoo peeking from beneath my turtleneck, before they wander down to my hands. I ignore the way she swallows dryly and then backs inside. “What does a newborn baby need?”
She stands there looking at me like I’m about to fuck her up or something, but as I walk past her into her shop, she seems to shake herself out of her impression of me.
“A lot.” Her reply is a nervous giggle, and before she carries on with the whole trepidation thing, I tell her, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just a guy trying to wrap his head around all this baby…stuff.”
“Oh, umm…”
“We don’t have anything.”
Taking a deep breath, she walks me over to a neutral section sandwiched between the pink and blue ones. “Do you know what you’re having?”
“No.”
“Well, this is everything I have that’s neutral. The darker blues look lovely on all babies too, especially the stripes and polka dots.” She sections off a chunk of navy outfits. Her hands tremble a little, but she seems to be getting a bit more used to my presence. “How long do you have until baby arrives?”
Putting the food bags on the floor, I try not to feel slightly overwhelmed by all this. Maybe this was a mistake. I keep making them lately.
“Seven weeks? Two months.”
“It’s more like one and a little on top.” She smiles. “But you still have some time.”
Doesn’t feel like it, I mutter in my head, I go through some of the clothes on the rack. I’m not really sure what Fleur would like, but she’s not especially colourful, so the greys are more appealing.
When I stand there gawking at clothes, she laughs. “It’s a bit daunting at first, and I think that for men it’s even more perplexing. But let’s break it down to what you and mummy like.”
