I swallow a whimper, sitting up on my heels with my back arched the way he likes. I stare at the button of his fly, but I worry my lower lip with my teeth instead of reaching for him. Deep down I wish he would just do it himself. Set this in motion. But he won't. He expects me to do it. The shame is mine to be had.
I reach for him with clumsy fingers and unzip his pants. He shifts his hips enough that I can tug both his jeans and briefs down and expose his turgid prick. He is impossibly hard and thick. It makes my mouth water. He’s even bigger than my husband and that’s saying something. I have been taking mental notes of all the similarities and differences between them.
"Open your pretty little mouth and get it wet," he says.
I know can do this. God how I want to do this. I sit up and lean in, keeping my eyes on his. Moaning, I take him into my mouth. I feel the shape and contour of sin in my mouth, salivating on the taste of it. I slide down the length of him and close my eyes. I lick and swirl my tongue back up and around the tip, flattening against the underside and sucking firmly. I’m not looking at him, but I’m listening for the primal sound of his approval or appreciation.
Even as hard as he is, and he is oh so very hard, he is quiet. My eyelashes flutter as I give in to curiosity and look up to see him watching me. He laughs as I look away at once. He strokes my hair gently, rubbing my scalp in such a way it makes me purr with my mouth full of cock. I’m in ecstasy serving him. It’s like I’ve arrived at the place I was meant to be. Euphoria doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel in the depths of my depravity.
In a sweet but decadent voice laced with callous intentions he breaks me from within when he starts, "When he leaves you…"
I immediately tense up and try to jerk away from him. His hand is gripping the back of my neck now, holding me down, and successfully quieting my protest before I can voice it. In doing so he’s denying me the sound of it in my ears, not allowing me to defend myself by holding me down to choke on his cock as he continues snidely, "Like I was saying, when he leaves you, I'll take you in, baby."
He holds me there until I am fighting, scratching, and punching at him, frantic to inhale a greedy breathe of air. Even more desperate to lash out and bruise him, make him hurt like he is hurting me.
"All three of you."
He chuckles before he lets me up. I cough hard, crying as I suck in deep gasps of air. The smirk on his face makes me appalled by him even more.
"Shh, now, don't wake my son." He pats my cheek like a petulant child. There is a sadistic gleam in his eyes that rips into my soul.
I trusted him…
Tears are still dripping from my eyes as I lift my head to glare up at him and wheeze, "He isn't yours."
He is staring intently at me. "Oh you,” he chuckles. “…you're not sure, are you?" His rough hand strokes my cheek lovingly. His fingers tangling in my hair, giving it an affectionate tug until I lean into it, savoring the moment of tenderness before I can stop myself.
I can no longer look him in the eye so I drop my head as I listen to his next words he’s murmuring sympathetically, "Not sure, baby?"
A tear drops down onto my bared breast that is blossoming with the beginnings of bruises. I try to tell myself I won't dignify the question with a response, and I hear him begin laughing at my stubborn silence.
Through my hanging curls, I can see that he is still erect. If anything, he is even more so. He gets off on shaming me. The dark side of me loves it—adores that he’s so thick and stiff that I can see his veins throbbing.
All for me.
"Get up and take your jeans off."
I hesitate. I'd rather he do it, or physically make me do it, and he knows it, just as I know he won't. Once more, he will bask in me proving my disgrace is on the back burner to my need to get fucked by him. Maybe that, in turn, makes me somewhat shameless. My face heats as I dare to look into his eyes again as I hesitate.
"Tell me to go," he says.
Willfully silent, I rise with a jerky motion and undo my jeans, pushing them down over the curve of my hips. Obedience to dominant men is something I have learned from my husband. Doing things that were expected of me came naturally now. In fact, it is comforting to me to have my decisions taken from me, so to think of it in this way, it feels right. After all, I was taught to obey without question. I slide my panties down and his lips part in a way that shows his pearl white teeth in a feral grin.
"Well, that is interesting. Ana, did you shave your cunt for your husband even though he’s not fucking you?"
I clench my jaw, my stubborn streak kicking in, but he jerks me closer by my hips, all traces of amusement gone from his voice as he demands quietly but firmly, "Answer me, girl."
With quiet admission, I look up at him and state clearly, "No, I did not. I,” clearing my throat, I finish the hardest admission thus far. “I did it for you."
It's more than enough for him. He is grinning. In fact, he looks delighted. He stands up and takes hold of my hand and says, "Come, Ana, it’s time to go to your bedroom."
"No!" I blurt out, horrified at the thought of him in the bed I have only shared with my husband. I try jerking my arm away, but his fingers tighten around my wrist and he pulls me close, close enough to bring his other hand across my cheek with an unapologetic slap that makes my knees weak. It won’t leave a bruise but it efficiently silenced my protests.
And it made me wetter.
I flinch as he raises his hand again, and shrink away from a second blow that never falls. He holds his raised hand where I can see it so terribly close to my face, and holds me in place as he promises low in my ear, "When you're my wife, you’ll never look for another to fuck you. I’ll fuck you so often, so rough, so deeply, everyone will know who you belong to. My marks will stain your skin with ownership."
His face is so calm it makes me quiver. His eyes show a dark and dangerous emotion. He’s so close I can feel the heat of his even breath on my face. He releases my wrist. "You don't ever tell me no again, Ana. I fucking own you." His tone was lethal. I dare not cross him now. “Say it…” he demands.
“You…”
“Fucking say it.”
“…own me. You fucking own me.” My cunt clenches in anticipation. I know once we are in the bedroom there will be no turning back. He’ll take me like the whore I am and I will love him for it.
I’m so fucked in the head.
He waits, and after a very brief moment, I turn from him and lead him up the stairs to the bedroom. When we cross the threshold, I hang back in the doorway and watch as he begins easing his pants down his hips, gesturing for me to come closer when he sits on the edge of the bed.
"Come here."
My steps are tentative, though I want this more than I care to admit. When I reach him, he slides my shirt off shoulders so that I am standing naked at his side. I feel more than naked, if that makes sense. Utterly bare down to my very soul.
In an attempt to deny my desire, I whisper, "We—we are not going to do this..." I wish I said it with conviction and authority. But in truth, I don’t want it to stop. He knows it.
"Yes we are," he interrupts lightly, as if it isn't even a question. He is reaching to gently caress the swell of one breast.
"...unless—unless you make me," I finish haltingly.
He chuckles in the silence that follows, allowing me to catch my breath and brood on that thought. Then, smiling, "I don't have to make you, Ana. You called me, remember? You asked for this. Need this. You’re starved for it."
His fingers close in a pinching, painful grip on my nipple, drawing me to him as I wince in pain. “You poor, depraved, girl.” He takes my other breast in hand, palming it, gripping it as he tugs me so I am facing him. I realize he is pulling me down, down to his erect cock. I shudder as his fingers release my breast to slip down and pinch my nipple instead, pulling them both now in a breathtaking tug.
Hunching over, I brace my palms on his massive shoulders and try to push back, only increasi
ng the pressure, stretching my nipples and making myself whimper as I attempt to keep away.
"You can't—I can't—we can’t…" I gasp, resisting yet relenting when the pain is too fierce, and then resisting again, as if I didn’t want his cock. He is incredibly amused. Now that he has me where he wants and needs me, all he has to do is hold on, knowing I’ll soon give in. How could I not? The nubs of my nipples between his fingers are blood red and the pleasure pain of it has my cunt dripping steadily down my inner thighs.
"Better stay off it then," he warns me, as if it is just that easy. The mushroom head of his cock brushes the inside of my thigh too high up, all too close to my sodden cunt. I know he likes watching me fight this, feeling me pull back with all my strength and knowing, as do I, that he is far superior and can force me at any time. I know he is making me fight him because it's keeping his cock hard without me even having to touch him. He leans back, jerking me down another inch so that I have to arch my back just like he likes in order to keep clear of him though my cunt is so soaked he must feel me dripping by now.
"You needed me," he taunts me. “You begged me to come.” I can’t help but look him in the eye as I hurt myself, straining persistently against him. His fingers are wet, but they hold fast. "What did you think was going to happen, Ana? What did you think we’d be doing while your husband is gone and my son is sound asleep?"
Trembling with the effort, through clenched teeth, I manage breathlessly, "Don't, don’t do it like this…"
"Then tell me to go," he whispers hotly in my ear. I cry out as I feel his stiff cock nudging into the slick cleft of my cunt. His eyes widen and his pleased grin is appalling. "Ah ha ha ha! You did miss me, you slutty, beautiful girl. Get on my cock. Ride it, Ana."
He barely tilts his hips and slips it in, and then thrusts it in easily, deeply, again and again. In spite of how I twist in my disgrace, beginning to buck my hips while pushing with my hands on his thighs, I can't dislodge him now.
I won’t.
I can’t stop.
I gratefully hold him there, clenching my hungry pussy around him and he rises from the bed slightly to drive even deeper. It's only a matter of time before I lose myself completely. Before I give him what I’ve been denying us both.
I am shaking, and sweating, and moaning, begging with him in hungry gasps. "In the ass, please! Fuck me in the ass instead…"
He laughs wickedly, shaking his head from side to side. He’s lifting his hips yet again so I can feel him shove his perfect cock in and out wetly, but never all the way. He’s content to give me just enough to make me want to beg for more. He is not even out of breath, but I feel like I’m near fainting for need of deep gulps of air.
"Not a chance. As much as I’d love to slam into your perfect, lush ass, your cunt needs this too badly. That’s what I’m here for. To take care of you, baby. Give you what you need. What you deserve."
I hold his gaze to show him just how serious I am. "I can’t have your baby."
"You will," he growls. "You did it last time. You’ll do it again. Now shut up and kiss me."
"No…"
He lunges at me and catches my mouth with his, kissing me brutally over my already tender lips. It’s effective in devouring my protest, and at the same time, he exerts his superior strength at last and pulls me all the way down on him, seating me fully on his cock.
It’s divine.
Our fucking is flawless.
We moan into each other’s mouths as we both feel him impale me deeply, with such perfection I forget to breathe. He wraps his arms around me to keep me still and begins to rock, as though comforting me, loving me, and he mumbles against my lips, "It's over. Stop fighting me, Ana. Feel me. Take what you need. Give me what’s mine."
I turn my head, even as he clamps his teeth down on my lower lip to make me stay, and blurt stubbornly, "No."
"He's my son," he says, pulling my hips down onto him as he thrusts deep enough to make it hurt. Hurt so fucking good I scream for him.
"He's not!"
We fall into silence as he fucks me. A hush peppered with moaning grunts, filthy, sloppy, wet sex noises that make me feel like a woman again.
A hot, sexy, and wanton woman.
I stop struggling, but I am edgy, staring at his gorgeous face, waiting for the moment he relaxes his hold just a bit.
Once he lets his guard down I can pull out of his embrace, and escape before he comes inside of me.
He doesn't.
His rhythm accelerates, his breathing is harsh and he is beginning to make animalistic primal noises on each upward thrust into my wet cunt. His dark eyes are on my face the whole time, drinking in my pained, near orgasmic expression.
"Don't come inside me," I am begging, "Please don't come inside me—please…"
"Of course I'm going to come inside you," he smiles up at me. I feel a twisted sense of pride that now he's a little breathless. I pull back violently, trying to dislodge from him, but he only tightens his hold and snaps his pelvis to let gravity punish me. A punishment I crave. No one has ever fucked me with abandon like he does.
"When you're my wife," he growls, "I'm going to knock you up over and over and over again. You'll always be my barefoot and pregnant wife. I know how much you want my babies. We did make a beautiful baby, Ana."
"I don't, please don't..."
Seething under me, he grunts "Say it. Tell me you want to have my baby again and I won't do it."
"I—I can't…"
No words now, just thrusting up into me, over and over. I know he's close. I feel the change in him. I begin to murmur, terrified, "I want your—your baby." I hardly any voice on the last word. "I do."
His grin is savage. "Bullshit. I don't believe you." He pulls my hips down harder on him, beginning to ram himself into me faster, harder, and fiercer, using me to get off. I’m nothing but his fuck doll now.
"Please, Martin!" My voice breaks as I whimper frantically. "Do it. Come inside me. I want all of it. I want your baby. I want to carry your child. I want to be yours."
He is timing his powerful thrusts so that my pleas become screams and it is uniquely troubling, to beg him to do the one thing I desperately don't want him to do.
"Please don't stop!" Unsettling, to hear these words roll off my tongue. "Don't pull out. I want to have your baby. Please, knock me up. I want to give you a son, another b…"
I go silent with my words and gasp as I realize what is going on. His body is unbearably tense. His gorgeous face is twisted in pain and exhilaration, arching his back under me, all in complete silence. I thrash about violently in frantic alarm, striving to dislodge myself, but he is holding me tight in spite of my twisting. Through my dismay I feel his hand between my thighs, his thumb pressing into my clit, and my reaction is instantaneous.
I orgasm so hard it hurts. I come so rapidly and brutally that I have to shriek with it as I feel my cunt grasp him like a fist and drain his cock into me in hot, wonderful pulses. The tears trail down my cheeks even as I'm grinding in his lap, chasing the last twinges of pleasure as I comprehend what he's done—what I've done.
He finishes well before I do, but as soon as I can think clearly enough to do it, I am pushing off of him, stumbling backwards. He lets me off him, but snatches my wrist and pulls me onto the bed with him. I can’t help but fight him again, smacking at his chest and face until he twines his fingers with mine and makes fists. Still, I am crying out at him, sobbing and frantic.
"Why?"
With his fingers white knuckled against mine, he manages to wrap our arms together around me like a straitjacket, and he holds me quietly. He lets me fight and swear at him until I am limp and exhausted in his embrace. Even then, he won't let me go. I will never tell him how grateful I am for it. Deep down, I don’t ever want him to let me go. Not truly.
His sinful lips move in the damp curls at my temple. "Tell me to go." The kisses he traces down my cheek, nuzzling into my neck nearly break me. I want to cry and shout my frustra
tions. I need to push my anger out and on to him.
Immediately, I want to tell him to go. Instead, I turn and look into his eyes. I love him in this moment. His look is tender, so very loving. His dark hair is wet with sweat, and his five o’clock shadow makes his lean jaw look rough and weathered. One last time I ask him, “Why would you do that to me? Say those awful things…”
Again, he ignores my request and brushes a soft kiss on my bruised lips. “You wanted it. Your soaked cunt is proof. The way you lay here lax in my arms, a sated and trembling mess of a sex kitten with my come drenching you between your thighs is proof you were begging for it.”
"Go, you bastard! Get out. I want you out of here now!"
He exhales very slowly for a moment. His snug arms across my limbs depart all too quickly, but I yank away from him at once as he sits up, and curl into the fetal position on my bed.
"I will," he promises smoothly. "But first I have something for you. Consider it a gift of sorts."
I lift my head guardedly to watch him rise, and to my utter degradation he draws a thin leather wallet out of his back pocket of his discarded jeans and searches in it for a few folded bills that he tosses to land on the mattress next to me.
The lighting in the room is dim, so I rub the texture between thumb and fingers. It is wrong, and I blink as I focus on the paper and confirm that it's not bills of any sort.
Sitting up straight now, I ask, "What is this?"
Patiently and unenthusiastically, he replies, "Look at it. You tell me what you think it is." He began getting dressed, covering up his muscled body from my eager eyes. I pulled my gaze from him and looked down at what I held in my hands.
I unfold the documents in my possession, turning so I can see them in the light from the hall. "I don't—I don't know what I'm looking at."
He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he glances down the hallway at the closed door that is my son's room. By some crazy miracle, he hasn't woken up.
"They’re test results…"
I can feel the blood drain from my face as my heart sinks with the weight of the world, shoving it down into my stomach.
Expecting Him Page 2
