I moaned and his cock jumped between my lips.
So I did it again.
Deliberately, this time, as I continued to work more of his length into my mouth. I’d never had an issue with my gag reflex before, but I’d also never been with a man that was a large as he was.
I could not take all of him, no matter how I tried, and I cried out in frustration.
This position would never work, not when I was down on my knees and dipping my head to take his cock. The bent position of my neck making it impossible for me to relax my muscles there enough to deep-throat him.
My lips just touched the side of my hand that I’d kept wrapped around the base of his shaft. I moved it in time with my head, sliding up and down his length the best that I could. Used my free hand to gently cup his balls.
Feeling just how full and how heavy they were.
Ready to…
No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I wanted to focus on the pure physical. The pleasure and the exploration.
Not the purpose.
For just a little while, I wanted to pretend that this was real. That I was here in his place, and would spending the time in his bed, because he wanted me. Not just for what I could give him.
Me.
It was a crazy and dangerous thing to want, yet that was the way that I'd felt from the beginning. It was a desire that had only grown stronger over time.
I moved my hand up and down in time with my head, pausing occasionally to squeeze and suck. Each time, I felt him swell, Each time, I heard him groan.
Louder.
Rougher.
Andrew closed his hands in my wet hair, sliding down to my jaw. “Stop.”
I didn’t want to, yet the urge to obey—even in this—was strong. I looked up at him.
His already dark eyes were nearly black yet blazing at the same time. “Come here.” He offered me his hand and I took it. Let him lift me up from my knees.
He shut off the water and led me out of the shower.
Started to reach for one of the towels hanging nearby, then grabbed me around the waist and hauled me over his shoulder again.
He carried me out of the bathroom and into the connecting bedroom.
His bedroom.
A place that I had always wondered about, in the back of my mind, but had never expected to see.
I didn’t have much of a chance to look around now, as Andrew tossed me onto his bed. The mattress was firm, with little bounce, and I had barely landed before he was on top of me. He lifted my legs onto his broad shoulders, shifting so that he was over me in a way that had me folded almost in half under him.
He guided his cock against my pussy, rubbing against me as if to let me feel the way it throbbed. “There’s nothing between us now.” I knew he was talking about protection. “And you said it’s not a safe time.”
So much for forgetting about the purpose of this night. “Depends on what you mean by safe.”
“Maybe I should have said it’s the right time.”
“Maybe…”
Chapter Eight (Andrew)
Once again, I felt Emma tense, ever so slightly. The first time had happened when she’d spoken of getting to know the body of the man who was going to father her child. There had been an edge to her soft voice that her teasing tone hadn’t quite been able to hide.
But why? “Do you want me to stop?”
Breathing hard and squirming, lifting her hips in a way that caused the head of my cock to rub against the slick wetness of her opening, she shook her head.
I knew she wanted to be fucked.
But did she still want to be pregnant?
I suppose I could have paused. Could have gotten some protection. I did have some, and I wouldn’t even have to go very far to retrieve it. It was in the nightstand just on the other side of the bed.
But then I wouldn’t have a reason to fuck her.
Well, not one that we’d agreed on, anyway. I had specifically asked her to do this to bear my child. And though I was no longer certain that I didn’t want more of her—that I just needed to fuck her, period—I wasn’t so sure that would be a good idea.
That would make this something more… like a relationship. Changing the way we were together, and potentially the way she worked for me.
And I didn’t want that.
Even curled up in the way she was, with her legs over my shoulders and her hips raised, she was still able to reach between us. Her slender fingers grazed my aching cock and I shuddered.
Not sure how much control I could manage if…
“Please, Andrew.” Her soft, sweet voice was shaking. “Fuck me.”
There was no way in hell I could stop now. Hearing those words on her lips…
I thrust deep and hard, and Emma threw her head back. Screamed.
Fuck, she felt like heaven. With the way her tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, the strength of her inner muscles catching me by surprise all over again. The grip on my shaft, the strong contractions that might almost have been enough to push me right out of her if I didn’t have the advantage of position… all of it was incredibly intense.
Once again, I wondered how I would give this up.
Wondered if it was possible to become addicted to fucking a woman.
No. Not just any woman.
Emma.
I rolled my hips, drilling down into her. Not holding back.
Unable to hold back.
Just as the first time, she unlocked something deep inside. A part of me that I hadn’t known existed.
Something primitive.
Uncontrolled.
Primal.
Though pleasure made me want to close my eyes, I forced them open. So that I could look at her.
So that I could see her. Really see her.
Because once again, it was just like one of the many fantasies that I’d had about her.
Only better.
I thought that maybe I should be etching this moment into my memory, knowing just how temporary this all was and yet I could help wishing for the impossible.
That this could last forever.
Crazy thoughts, of course. That had to be my dick talking. Nothing more.
And yet…
She looked so perfect under me. Like she had been made to be there. Her face flushed, her head thrown back to expose the slender lines of her throat. Her beautiful hair spread out in a tangled halo over my pillows…
And of course, there were the way her legs were wrapped around my waist as she opened herself to my cock.
Fuck, I could already feel my balls drawing up against my body, preparing for the moment that I was going to blast my seed deep into her.
Into her fertile body.
Making her pregnant.
Making her mine.
Her soft cries were the most erotic thing I had ever heard in my life. Her hands clawed at my arm, her nails carving into my skin. She was folded up under me in a way that made it impossible for her to reach my shoulders, and I suspected that she was just grabbing and scratching at anything that she could get her fingers on.
It was clear that she was losing control.
Her silky sheath rippled in the way that I now knew was a sign that she was getting close to her climax. I knew I should focus on her pleasure, should slow down and reach between us to finger her clit to ensure that she was going to come.
But I was too far gone myself for that.
Words tumbled from my lips, disjointed phrases that didn’t make sense to my overheated brain. I knew that I was telling her how good she was making me feel. How much I loved being inside her tight little pussy.
Love… now that was a dangerous word.
Or would be, if I let it describe more than sensation. I didn’t believe in it, anyway. Not when it came to anything beyond that. I had seen more than enough proof that it didn’t actually exist outside of fairy tales and other kinds of fiction.
I didn’t do love. Or commitment. I didn’t have time
for either of those things.
Work was the only thing that mattered. The only thing I had focused on since I was sixteen and first started trying to ‘prove’ myself to my uncle
Now work was almost forgotten as I was consumed by thoughts of having the chance to be inside Emma as often as possible.
This was definitely an addiction of some kind.
One I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be free of.
“Andrew.” Once again, the breathless way she said my name sent a jolt straight through my body. Hitting every nerve but concentrating in my cock. “I’m going to…”
“You’re going to come for me, sweetheart,” I said roughly. My throat had gone dry, making it difficult to get the words out. “Come for me, Emma. Let me feel that tight little pussy of yours milk my cock.”
“I…” For a heart-stopping moment, I thought she might say something more. That she might give me back some of the same kind of words, though she had never done anything close to dirty talk before. Her hips rocked toward mine and the contractions of her pussy around my cock grew stronger. Faster. “Ohhhh!”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”
“Andrew!”
I forced my eyes open so that I could watch her writhe and scream on my cock, her entire body shaking with the force of her release. Then I gave in to my own pleasure, shoving in balls deep as spurt after spurt of seed shot from my cock and into her.
I had thought that coming inside her for the first time had been intense.
Even that was nothing compared to… this. “Emma!”
She let out a long wail, her body giving one last shudder before going limp under me. On the outside, at least. Inside, her muscles were still moving, still milking every last drop of my come out of my cock.
When it was over, I lifted her shaking legs from my shoulders and moved aside, letting her unfold and lie flat on her back. Remembering something I had read, I reached for a pillow.
Hesitated when I realized that Emma’s eyes were open. Her gaze was locked on the pillow in my hands. I could see that mix of emotion on her lovely face, the shimmering uncertainty in her eyes.
I set the pillow aside.
She looked at me, then at it, and back again. “You’re not going to…”
Her voice was hoarse as it trailed away, but I understood enough to know that had likely done the same research as I had. Knew what some people said, about placing a pillow under a woman’s hips to allow gravity to help in conception. It seemed like such a farfetched thing and yet…
I lay down next to her, drawing onto her side to face me. She was still panting and flushed, and my cock was still hard. “I have a better idea,” I said softly. I lifted her leg so that it was draped over my hip and shifted closer so that I could rub the head of my cock against her slit. “A way that will keep you filled up that will be a lot more fun. For the both of us.”
She cried out as I slid inside her again, and her hands came up to clutch at my shoulders. “I like the sound of that,” she whispered. “Fill me.”
And I did.
Chapter Nine (Emma)
I had known he wouldn’t be with me for this. And it was better that he wasn’t.
Or so I told myself.
Three incredible nights that I hadn’t wanted to end, two weeks ago, had led to this moment. My normally regular as clockwork period was now very definitely late. I didn’t feel any of the other symptoms yet, though my internet research had said that I might.
I suppose I was still in denial, in a way.
Hoping that I wasn’t actually pregnant, so I could have another three nights. Or maybe more…
The timer buzzed and I knew I would have an answer either way. There was no getting away from the truth now.
I took a deep breath and picked up the pregnancy test. I hadn’t bothered with the fancy digital ones, opting to make up for the potential inaccuracies—or difficult to read displays—by having more than one of the standard tests.
Since they were available in packages of two or three anyway, it wasn’t difficult.
My hand was shaking so much that I nearly dropped the plastic stick. This was a bad place to do this, where it was just as likely to end up in the toilet as on the ground. I tightened my grip and looked at the small window.
Maybe I was still hoping for one of the vague answers, the questionable results that I so often saw on the commercials that tried to proclaim that one brand of test would be so much better than another.
But even that small hope was denied.
Two lines.
Unmistakable and as clear as can be.
I was pregnant.
I sank to the floor, the swirl of emotions inside my head and my heart draining all of the strength from my legs. My hand covered my belly.
This was it.
One part was done. And though, barring a disaster, it meant that I would have a part of Andrew with me forever…
Tears threatened but I would not let myself cry. Not now.
I had too much to do.
For one thing, I had to take the second test. From a second, separate package. A different brand.
Maybe that was going a bit overboard, but I'd never done anything like this before and my anxiety—just while purchasing the damned things—had made it difficult for me to make a decision on which one to get.
All of them had seemed to promise the same things. Each brand claiming that they were the best, the fastest, the most accurate.
The second stick gave the same result.
It was time to tell Andrew, though my first impulse was to try to keep this a secret. Even from him. I couldn’t, of course.
As I’d left the office on Friday, we had talked about whether or not I was going to take the test this weekend. I had been too agitated to take it yesterday, and today was the last chance before I had to see him at work on Monday morning.
My throat tightened and it felt like a massive lump had taken up residence there.
No way I would be able to say the words out loud.
My fingers trembled as I tapped out the shortest of text messages: I’m pregnant.
There was no reply.
I knew he should already be awake. Though he lived quite a bit closer to the office than I did, he habitually rose with the dawn. No matter how little sleep he got the night before. Something I had found out firsthand, during those three nights.
Despite my nerves and my fears, my pussy fluttered an grew wet at the memory of just how he had chosen to wake me up on those mornings. With his lips and his tongue and…
The instant reaction I felt could have been explained by the high level of hormones that were now coursing through my body, according to those tests and the internet research I had done on the subject. But as much as I wanted to believe that, I couldn’t entirely convince myself that was the case here.
For one thing, it seemed contradictory for me to crave sex more after I was already knocked up.
And for another… it was not all that different from the way I had always gotten turned-on to thoughts of my boss, long before we had ever become intimate.
Back when being fucked by him had been nothing but a forbidden, secret fantasy.
This was not good. Not good at all.
Or maybe it was just too soon to be thinking about getting over him.
Maybe there was still a chance…
No.
If that were the case, then he would not have avoided touching me since I had left his bed. I would still be spending my nights with him, rather than home alone.
It was…
My phone buzzed with the notification of a text message. Are you sure?
That wasn’t the answer that I was expecting. Maybe because this whole thing had been his idea, I had thought he would show a bit more excitement.
To be fair, I knew it wasn’t always easy to convey emotion through text.
And Andrew certainly wasn’t the type to resort to using emojis. I wasn’t sure if he even knew
what they were, though they were likely to pop up as a potential auto-fill option.
Still…
I ignored the flutter in my heart and the first tendrils of hope that had instantly begun to form. Maybe he had been hoping for an excuse for us to continue fucking. Maybe this had really become about more than just fulfilling the terms of his uncle’s will.
It was madness to think such things.
He had fallen, all too easily, back into the same patterns of behavior since I’d left his bed for the last time. Acting almost as if nothing at all had happened, though I sometimes caught him looking at me.
Those looks, however, had been difficult to define. It hadn’t been anything as simple as desire.
I simply didn’t know what to think about any of this.
I just had to play along. If he wanted something different, he would tell me, right? Until then, I had to go with what I knew.
Taking a deep breath, I texted him back. First, sending him a photo of the tests.
Then: I’ll call my doctor’s office tomorrow try to get an appointment to get a blood test asap, but not sure if they’ll do it right away or make me wait until I miss next period.
Another long pause. Tomorrow?
I wondered if he’d lost track of what day it was. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. They’re not open on Sundays, sir.
As soon as I sent the text, I wished I could take it back. Not the whole thing, but definitely the last word.
‘Sir.’ Something I had called him without hesitation for so long, that it should not have felt odd now.
But that was before. Before the sex. Before… I dropped my hand to cover my stomach again. Thinking of how Andrew’s child was there.
Still just a clump of cells at this point, but already it was something that had the power to alter my life in so many ways.
I checked my phone repeatedly as I cleaned up the packaging from the pregnancy tests and tossed the used sticks in the trash. Looking for a text from Andrew that never came.
I didn’t have a whole lot of time to wait and to wonder or to worry, however. I rushed to get dressed, then headed out for a lunch cate with my best friend, Leah.
It was something that I was both looking forward to and dreading. On one hand, I hadn’t seen her at all for months, though we had texted each other several times a week.
A Baby for the Beastly Boss Page 5
