Have My Baby: Baby and Pregnancy Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  Looping my arms around his neck, I lay my head to Hugo’s chest as he carried me into the bathroom. One of the larger of its type, it came complete with a full-sized bathtub that would easily fit us both.

  Setting me on his lap on the edge, still hard cock pressing against my ass, Hugo turned on the water. I couldn’t help but marvel a little at his stamina.

  “Was there, um –”

  “No, not much, ” he said, catching on to what I was nervously hinting at, “There was a little bit of blood, but no more than I couldn’t handle with some tissues.

  The water squeaked to a stop and, before I knew it, I was being lowered into the restored claw-foot tub, Hugo following close behind. Gentle as ever, he washed me all over. Toe to head and then back again, even washing my hair.

  No mean feat, considering I’d let it grow down nearly to my waist. I usually kept it in a braid, or even a bun, like I had on the video-call. Yet, there it was, long and loose, my sweet lover shampooing and rinsing every inch with all care and attention.

  The sex had been wonderful, amazing even. Though when it came to intimacy, washing my hair probably took the most trust. Sex happened all the time. Lots of times between strangers. I’d never let anyone wash my hair. At least since I was old enough to do it myself. A surrender I never thought I’d make. Yet there was something about Hugo that made me trust him innately. Something that let me know that he would never hurt me. Not just so I believed it as a conviction but knew it as an objective fact.

  Egyptian cotton kissed my skin as Hugo patted me dry. He moved over me with a meticulous efficiency, leaving not a spot of moisture anywhere on me. Wrapping a second towel around my hair, he put us both into pure silk robes, Chinese dragons rampaging on the back.

  Once again in his arms, I was carried back to the bed and tucked in under the heavy duvet. Keeping a hand on me at all times, Hugo went around to the other side and climbed in beside me, my body instinctively rolling toward him. He took me in a warm embrace and held me until I fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven - Vega

  It wasn’t what I expected. Though often, the part you don’t expect was the good stuff. I wasn’t sure what it spoke to more, but I really had expected the two weeks with Hugo to be a continuous sexual escapade.

  My initial virginity in no way dampening my enthusiasm for the prospect. He seemed to know that. And what the likely result would be. My ravenous desire for sex leveling off, at least to more manageable levels. The final release of years of pent up frustration, as satisfying as it was edifying.

  I was certainly up for more, but also understood the importance of interludes. For the sake of my health and comfort if nothing else. I’d only just started learning what could be done. Probably best to take it easy at first. Until my body had time to adjust to the new reality.

  Pages rolled in a steady rhythm. Like the tide on the beach, slow and measured. The powerful, visceral sentences coming together to punch me in the heart. This manuscript was curb-stomping my feelings until I wanted to cry out in pain. But despite the agony the book put me through, I also couldn’t stop, an undeniable drive compelling me to continue, as though it would hurt more to stop.

  It was all there. The poetry, the humor. The glorious, glorious historical references. Woven together into a tapestry worthy of the Vatican. Yet, struck through with an aching agony I could feel pressing in my chest as the narrative unwound. Each page, each paragraph bursting a new wealth-spring of tears I refused to let flow.

  I stole a look at Hugo as he busied himself on his computer, waiting for my notes on the first few chapters. The book was broken into smaller sections to make the editing process easier. I wondered how much of it was true. It was difficult to imagine such authentic anguish coming out of nowhere.

  There must have been something. An event, small or large, that gave him some insight. Most likely in the past five years, because his earlier writing had no such elements. I couldn’t see the cracks, but could sense something had broken. Most likely his heart.

  “What do you think?

  He might as well have asked how many licks to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. How the fuck was I supposed to answer that question? I couldn’t without the risk of hurting him even more.

  “Luminous,” I hedged, going for the nicest descriptor to hand, “like your earlier work but also stands alone. There is a new - maturity.

  I did my best not to make it sound like a question. There was maturity to be sure. As well as the stinging, lashing wages of hard experience. One came more readily to mind than the other. It took some quick thinking to come up with a compromise, ‘maturity’ not the first descriptor that came to mind.

  “Thank you. I really wasn’t sure it was, you know, any good. I only started working on it again a couple years ago. Perhaps I’d lost my touch.

  I wanted to reassure him. Quote what Harlan Ellison said about how writers get to a level below which they did not sink. It seemed inappropriate, considering all the new blood, metaphorical and apparently literal, that had gone into the new manuscript. If the foreshadowing was anything to go by. He would hate the comparison but Hugo really did have a mystery writer’s sense of structure. Nothing came out of nowhere. Each element present, sometimes very subtly, to the end. It was unlikely he’d have read Sherlock Holmes as a boy, but there was more than one French-language equivalent.

  The beast grumbled, Hugo’s joining in chorus. Their urgency clear as it was undeniable. Hunger was becoming of paramount focus.

  We had already eaten lunch, some kind soul leaving a tray outside the office door. Predicting we wouldn’t be making it to the dining room. I thought of the woman who’d taken me to him and wondered how much staff he still had that I hadn’t seen, especially for the actual vineyard. There were no grapes on the plants that I could see, alhough that could have been a seasonal thing, unless he specialized in ice wine. In which case things had gone very badly indeed.

  Stuck in the void between lunchtime and dinner, which was always served at eight, we were left to our own devices.

  “I’m not sure what to make but –

  “I do.”

  “Oh?”

  “Show me to the pans and cutlery and then stand back,” I told him confidently.

  “…Right.”

  Despite its size, the kitchen was easy to move in. Everything set up with perfect logic once you learned the system. The selection of food was fairly random, but I’d gotten used to improvising.

  I’d never seen Grandma meet an ingredient she couldn’t work in somehow. Even ghost pepper on one memorable occasion. I wasn’t quite at her level of skill, lacking about fifty years of practice, but still did my best. Pulling together a serviceable fry up. “I wish you’ve let me help,” Hugo said, as I brought the plates to the table.

  “You’d have been taking your life in your hands. I move fast, and often with sharp objects.”

  “Even so,” he protested, “I like to feel useful.”

  “Even at the risk of your life?” I challenged.

  “Apparently, given recent history.”

  Temptation burned. Threatening to slide the flesh from my bones. Yet, I remained silent. There were some things it was best not to probe. It would have been a reasonable question, had I asked it.

  I just wanted Hugo to tell me in his own time, if at all. I had wondered at his mild nature. How it could cohabitate with such darkness as I’d already found in his pages. I didn’t want to upset that balance.

  “Sit, dishes are my domain,” he ordered, gathering the cutlery on to the already stacked plates.

  “Yes, sir.”

  But as he walked from the room, a childish fear overtook me and I didn’t want to be in the dining room alone. I’d somehow developed an isolation anxiety, despite having no idea how.

  Entering the kitchen as quietly as I could, I watched in silence as Hugo cleaned, dried and put away. The silverware was already drying on the tea towel set under t
he dish rack. I couldn’t help but observe how the muscles moved under his Oxford cloth shirt. So neatly tucked into charcoal gray Perry Ellis slacks.

  He wasn’t really dressed up, but always managed to look incredibly good with what he wore. I would have to get him to teach me sometime.

  He turned to face me. Making it clear he’d known I was there all along. Not much got past him really.

  “What would you like for dessert?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  Crossing the gap in what seemed like nanoseconds, I had my hands in his hair and my tongue in his mouth. Standing on my tip-toes, cold stone under my bare feet, so I could reach him. As the hunger in my belly was sated, another arose, making equally powerful demands.

  Hugo, my hero, answered the call. Taking me into his arms, to carry me up to our bed chamber. Like something from a Romance novel. A fun one with a painted cover featuring Fabio.

  I was conflicted. Hugo started kissing my neck as soon as he got me on the bed. Holding me gently like the beautiful lover he was. It felt amazing, though my immediate concern was with trying to get my damn pants off. The heat between thighs was getting to the approximate intensity of a fucking blast furnace.

  “Here.”

  In what felt like a single movement, I was naked below the waist. The cool air heaven on my wet, aching pussy.

  “Better?”

  “Much!”

  He went back to necking me, his hand finding its way between my legs to softly relieve the built up tension.

  The orgasm arrived like a snow storm, unexpected and fierce, shaking me to my core and making me howl as I came. Mad intensity slowly way to a satisfied calm, Hugo continuing to stroke my outer lips as I melted.

  I felt a tugging on the bottom of my shirt. Instinctively I lifted my arms. Hugo pulled my tank top up over my head. He unfastened my bra from the front, which I didn’t even know it could do. Naked and vulnerable to his every desire, I did my best to lay still as Hugo made his way southward. Opening my legs in welcome as he approached.

  Fireworks went off in my head as his tongue made first contact. It was like he pressed a button to trigger all my pleasure centers at once. Letting the first few, slow licks ring, he started to go faster, pressing his lovely tongue even harder against my eager lips.

  I wanted as much as I could possibly get. Even if some of it felt a bit weird at first. Hugo had never done anything to hurt me and I wanted him to feel at liberty to try anything he liked.

  He let loose the shapes. Figure eights. Tight spirals. What felt like a star and a bevy of others I couldn’t readily identify. My mind was somewhat occupied with the technicolor explosions of pleasure going off every second behind my eyes.

  My body shuddered. A natural response to the chemical reactions brought on by sexual contact. Though it felt like a miracle. Something not of the mortal plane that I had lucked onto by accident. It was difficult to believe there were people who felt this way often. Or at least when they had sex. It seemed so beautiful as to be impossible.

  I heard Hugo’s belt come undone, a sound that brought me to full attention. Sitting bolt upright, not wanting to miss a thing. I was on him as soon as I saw it, pouncing on his cock like a predator. I worked his beautiful shaft with an enthusiasm I usually reserved for great books and, occasionally, wine. My hands picked up on the work my mouth couldn’t manage, some part of me pleasuring him at all times.

  The torrent came in a beautiful blast, his sweet cum filling my mouth as fast as I could take it. I swallowed down each flood as it came, never giving up, nor losing a drop. I wanted it all. To feel every last morsel warming me from the core.

  Picking me up as though I weighed nothing, Hugo turned me around on the bed so I was laying straight and flat. Not quite as interesting as the edge of the bed, though admittedly more comfortable. Taking me by the calves, he pushed up and back. Getting my knees up near my tits, while keeping them near, if not together. I wrapped both arms around my legs, holding them in position.

  I let out a whimper of desire, the warm head of his cock against my wet and ready pussy making me want to melt with pleasure. I heard a rip of foil and there was a pause. I peeked over my shoulder to see him rolling a condom down his length.

  With all due care, taking into account my recent virginity, along with his massive size, Hugo coaxed my pussy into taking him in more than half way, then slowly filling me up almost entirely. My pussy hugged him snugly as he started to move.

  He took it easy on me. Never getting beyond a steady, moderate rhythm. As though I might break if fucked any harder. Despite the evidence from the night before. Still, I understood his caution. I was barely broken in and he wanted me to stretch a bit more before he tried going really hard again. We had lots of time to try out everything

  “Getting close?

  I nodded, unable to speak, in any language other than my body.

  “Good girl.

  He leaned down and kissed me, easing up on my pussy as I started to cum. Tiny shudders built to a level 4 earthquake as I held onto him, his cock still deep inside me.

  “Fuck,” I exclaimed, breathlessly.

  “That was the idea,” Hugo said with a wink.

  I would have smacked him under other circumstances. Right then though. I just laughed. The mix of adrenaline and pleasure hormones making me giddy.

  “Would you like to try something a bit different?’ he asked me when I was a little more coherent.

  “Always!”

  When I was able to move freely again, Hugo got onto his back. With some help, I got on top.

  “Good, lift up a little.”

  Placing my hands on his chest, I lifted my hips as far as I could with some support from Hugo.

  “Oh!” I gasped, feeling the head of his cock brush my pussy.

  “Forward a little more and then ease down, slowly. You’re in control here.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to focus as I sank down onto his throbbing cock. Both of Hugo’s hands on my hips kept me from going too far, too fast. I didn’t slide down all the way, even though I wanted to, stopping a little past where he’d gone when he was on top.

  All was stillness as I adjusted to having his beautiful cock, so deep in my pussy, throbbing inside me like a second heartbeat. Then the biggest issue was figuring out the right alignment so I didn’t go toppling off him as soon as I started to pump. An eventuality Hugo safeguarded against by holding my hips until I was comfortable. I was vaguely aware such a thing existed from a book Maya showed me once. Though it hadn’t really gone into specifics about how it could be done. Just that it was good for clitoral stimulation, a claim I could absolutely attest to.

  I was tentative at first. Not least because of the massive stimulation on my clit promised so long ago. I figured the slower I went the less intense it would fee. A plan which worked, for a while. Though the more I did it, the more I wanted to know what it felt like to do it hard.

  One by one I put my hands on Hugo’s shoulders, for support as well as leverage. Lifting my hips so my pussy was hugging the head of his cock, I dropped back down.

  The plan had been to go back to the position I’d been in before. A little more than half-way down his considerable length. Imagine my shock, when I found myself sitting flush on his lap. The entirety of his considerable cock buried deep in my twice-fucked pussy.

  Tears trickled down my cheeks, dropping off my chin, to land softly on my bare thighs. Tears of pure joy.

  “Are you okay?” Hugo asked from what seemed like far away.

  His voice was full of concern. He must have thought he’d really hurt me, even though nothing could be further from the truth.

  “I-I’m fine. Wonderful. I-it feels - wonderful. Just kind of overwhelming, but in the best possible way,” I laughed a little, embarrassed.

  Hugo exhaled into the mattress. Pure relief reading on his gentle face.

  My hands were still on his shoulders. It had wor
ked once. Might as well keep going.

  Hugo gasped as I began to ride him. His expression flickering from relief to surprise, to utter elation. My hips worked up and down on him like I was riding a pogo-stick downhill, working us both toward explosive orgasms.

  “Fuck, Vega,” he groaned, tensing underneath me, and as I spiraled over the edge, I felt a surge of heat as he bathed the inside of our latex barrier with his seed.

  He pulled out slowly and laid me down on the bed, sitting on the edge as he tossed the condom in the trash. He then got to his feet and offered me his hand.

  I took the offering, getting up on shaky legs, and kissed his cheek. Both of us sated, and no words needed between us, we got into the shower and scrubbed each other before going to the waiting breakfast.

  Chapter Eight - Hugo

  Her warmth was intoxicating. The rays of the new day made a halo around her head. Much like the candles had in my imagining. Confirmation or conscience, it was a lovely sight to see. In the Arcadian moments of the morning after, I was left to fanciful considerations. Certain that, given the choice, I would never get out of that bed. Remaining with her, safe in that moment forever

  It came from nothing. A spark of an impulse, driving action, creating something visceral. My lips touching hers in a moment of mad abandon. At least so it seemed. Kissing was not specified anywhere in the contract. Nor was it specifically forbidden. More of an unspoken agreement. One so unspoken, it might as well exist at all.

  Looking like an amorous sleepwalker, eyes still closed like in dedicated slumber, Vega returned my affections. Matching them in kind. She learned quick. The intensity grew with the passing of the moments. Evolving from entrant I’ve smooches, to a full on make-out session. Her tongue as deep in my mouth as I was in hers.

  There it was. Stirring under the silk. The intensity of the moment manifesting in other ways. Vega slipped her hand between the folds, grasping lightly on my shaft. Stroking with a sensitive fluidity as our tongues explored each other.

  Vega pulled away for a breath. The trick of breathing through her nose not there yet. She would learn soon enough. She stroked my cock faster. Licking her lips as she did so.