Their Secret: An MMF Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  I nodded, taking a big breath, staring at myself in the mirror. It’d be fine. Everything would be fine. Suddenly, a chiming voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “You look great, Sara.”

  My roomie stood on her side of the room getting ready for a date, pulling curlers out from her hair before fluffing up the blonde strands. Coincidentally, Martine and her boyfriend were going to the same restaurant where Mason and I had our first date. Immediately, I scolded myself. That wasn’t a date. That was the night when the SEAL made clear that this was a casual thing only. So I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

  “Thanks, Martine. You look really good too.”

  She had on sexy jeans, high heels, and a pink blouse with her thick-framed black glasses. Her blonde hair was curled up like a '50's pin-up model.

  I sighed. My buddy was so lucky to have a steady, long-term boyfriend. None of this “no strings” stuff, the “I don’t do relationships” talk. What would it be like to be completely sure about where you stood with a man, no ifs, ands or buts? What would it feel like to have his ring on your finger, a commitment to forever?

  But that was just wishful thinking, a runaway train, and I sighed again, looking down. Martine’s voice interrupted again.

  “Have fun tonight, babes,” she sang. “I know you'll have an awesome time hubba hubba,” Martine winked and giggled, before turning back to smear on some bright red lipstick.

  I turned back to the mirror and bit my lip. I hoped she was right and the evening with Mason would be good all the way around. All this wishing and hoping was doing nobody any favors, least of all me.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, looking at the floor. But this would never do, so I looked up again.

  “Thanks,” I said more loudly this time. “I’m gonna rock it.”

  Okay, my mind was set. Time to go. The taxi was outside, and in a blink, I was standing in front of Mason's apartment. Oh god, excitement burned in the pit of my stomach, sure, but also combined with some anxiety too. Because without him, I’d been at loose ends, my mind whirling like a top. But again, all this thinking was doing no good.

  So taking a deep breath, I started toward the apartment and up the stairs to Mason's door. Raising my fist to knock, my first tap-tap was gentle and even hesitant. But there was no reply for a minute or so. Hmm, that was weird. We had a date tonight, right? Had he forgotten? I frowned, knocking louder this time.

  And after some shuffling sounds and a long-ass pause, the door swung open revealing my man. I was gonna say something funny about mice in his underwear, but all words died on my lips. Because oh god, Mason was just so fucking gorgeous.

  Wherever they’d taken him for training left him a deeper shade of tan, that bronzed skin a beautiful, smooth mahogany. His hair was even shorter, and that body seemed bigger somehow, sexier. The plain white T-shirt stretched over his shoulders and muscled chest, emphasizing the width, while the jeans he wore clung to his narrow hips and big, hard, tree trunk thighs. My stomach fluttered.

  “Hi.” I stuttered the one word, barely even getting that out.

  “Come in,” the man replied, voice neutral, eyes strangely shuttered. The SEAL stepped away from the door to let me inside the apartment.

  Hesitantly, I went in before turning around to face the big man. What, no hug, no kiss hello? Not even a “how are you?” This was really fucking weird.

  I wanted to throw myself into his arms and cling to that muscular chest, to tell him how glad I was that he'd made it back home safely. I'd heard a few times about training exercises gone wrong, soldiers losing their lives. But all I could do was look at him, eyes wide and frozen, shivering like a rabbit. Because the place was cold, like the inside of an ice cube, and if my spidey sense was right, the alpha didn’t want me here. He wanted me gone, and all the worries I had before I left the dorm came rushing back in a wave.

  I swallowed and looked around, expecting to see evidence of something amiss. But there was nothing to see, his apartment as bare as always.

  “I can come back some other time,” I mumbled before snapping my head up. Why the fuck was I offering to leave? This was supposed to be a passionate reunion. Even if we weren’t in a relationship, surely he wanted to feel me up right? To make me cry out again, doing a private dance for him on his dick? So what the hell was going on?

  But the SEAL merely shook his head, expression still inscrutable.

  “Come in,” he said, that voice oddly tuneless. “I made us some dinner.”

  For the first time, I noticed that the place smelled like food. Tomato sauce and garlic bread, yum. Maybe even lasagna. The last time he and I talked, wrapped up in his sheets with my head on his chest, he'd asked me what my favorite food was. I told him it was lasagna, but with the way he was acting now, it didn't seem possible that he'd made it with me on his mind.

  Mason took my purse with big fingers and hung it on a hook by the door before turning back to me with those expressionless blue eyes.

  “You can go ahead into the bathroom and freshen up if you want. I already set the table.”

  “Oh —okay,” came my stammering reply. What was going on? What was with the impersonal language? My brain screamed again as I stumbled to the bathroom.

  Once the door closed, I leaned against the sink, head forward, trying to breathe deeply. Get yourself together Sara, came the voice again. You’re reading too much into things, it’s your imagination gone wild. I inhaled once, eyes closed, and then exhaled, summoning my inner Zen, before staring at my face in the mirror. What was going on? Did he find someone else? Was being a sex buddy with a recent virgin too much for him? Had I asked too much of him?

  But he was the one who’d initiated all the lovey-dovey things, the reasonable part of my brain said. He was the one who made breakfast, who tickled me between the sheets, and then made me come again and again. So what the hell was going on?

  I could only hide in the bathroom for so long. With a pounding heart, I exited, making my way back to the kitchen. But Mason barely looked at me.

  “Sit.” He pointed to the large table already set with two plates and silverware before asking what I wanted to drink.

  “Um, just water, please.” If there was anything going down tonight, I needed a clear head. I wasn't a big drinker so even a little something was out of the question.

  “Cool,” he tossed out carelessly.

  He poured water from a cooler he had in the fridge, brought a platter of garlic bread, and carefully scooped a square of lasagna on each plate. I stared at the pasta in astonishment. It smelled great, the sauce rich and meaty the way I like it. This had to mean something right? Because he wouldn't have done something so nice and kind for me if he didn't want me to be here, right? Mason could have just gotten me a burger from In-N-Out and then dragged me back to his bedroom for sex, and I wouldn’t have said a word.

  “You look nice,” he said in that tuneless voice.

  I gulped.

  “Thanks,” was my soft reply. Everything felt wrong, like the timing was off in some bad play. What in the world? But I chewed determinedly before taking another sip of water. Maybe some calories would help me maintain my courage.

  He finished serving both of us, a whiskey over ice for himself and another glass filled with water for me. And then he dug into his lasagna without another word, the silence ringing in my ears.

  This was awkward. I cleared my throat, trying to make conversation.

  “So, um. How was training?” The fork felt heavy between my fingers, uncomfortable and stiff. “You were gone for a long time.”

  “Good,” he said without any emotion. “It was good.”

  I tried teasing him. “You can't tell me about it? Even one tiny little bit?”

  The big man frowned.

  “I take my job very seriously, little girl. This isn’t some fun thing that I do on the side. Lives are lost, countries are conquered and if you think Fallujah or Addis Ababa are just names, think again. People live in these
places and their lives are fucked up beyond recognition because of war.”

  My mouth snapped shut. I’d just been trying to make conversation, and he’d just turned it into some military history lecture.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Just asking.”

  But Mason was disgusted.

  “Figures,” he grunted, refusing to look at me. “Figures.”

  At his harsh words, a piece of lasagna caught in my throat and I started coughing. Hand flailing, I reached for my water, hacking, eyes watering and burning as I tried to catch my breath. It was like that first time when we met and I almost drowned but much, much more painful. Because last time, we hadn’t known each other, but now it was like watching the person you loved walk away, that broad back disappearing into the mist.

  And across the table, Mason half-jumped up in his chair like he was coming to help me but I waved him away, still coughing but able to breathe a little bit better. I couldn’t bear for him to touch me right now.

  “I'm fine,” I croaked, tears still burning my eyes. “It just...just went down the wrong way.”

  He sank down into his chair and took another sip of whiskey. I smiled weakly, but inside, my heart felt cut in two. And not just because I'd almost choked to death on the lasagna, but because this dinner was all wrong. It was completely wrong and there was no point in trying to make it better now. So taking another sip of water, I cleared my throat and pushed back from the chair.

  “I think I better go. You don't seem in the mood for company tonight.”

  It broke me wide open to say it, but I had to give him this out. If Mason didn’t want me anymore, I’d leave with my head held high.

  “You don't have to go,” he grunted.

  Really? My heart jumped but then I realized they were just words. He didn’t really mean it. So tilting my chin up, I looked him square in the eye.

  “I know I don't have to do anything, but I think it makes sense for me to leave.”

  And with that, I folded my napkin into a neat square and put it on the table next to the untouched food. “I'll see you around, Mason.”

  Oh god, the words killed me. Why was this happening? What was going on? But moving stiffly, I turned away, ready to march to the front door.

  He was still in his chair for a moment and my heart sunk. Mason was gonna let me go. I was going to walk out of here with a million questions unanswered, the air between us thick with doubt and confusion.

  But my instincts were wrong because suddenly the SEAL was on me. One minute I was turning to go, and the next, that hot mouth was on mine as his hands spun me around.

  “Aww fuck, baby girl,” he growled into my throat, big palms lifting and squeezing my breasts. I gasped but my nipples responded immediately, hard as bullets in his palms.

  “Why?” I pleaded, almost crying into his mouth. “Why should I stay?” I could feel the tears burning but I didn't want to let them fall. “You can't even—”

  He kissed the rest of what I was going to say from my lips. I gasped in surprise and a flush of heat overtook my body, a familiar full-body blush and a flood of wetness between my legs.

  God! I'd missed him so much...

  But there was no time to talk because now I was desperate. All the pent-up feelings I’d been holding inside exploded in a rush, and I latched onto Mason like a hungry kitten, ravenously kissing him back.

  Oh god, his mouth was so good, bruising mine, that thick, insistent tongue plunging in right away to taste me. Moaning, I slid my arms around his neck, opening up my mouth for him, only for him. My nipples were suddenly tender and hard, desperately wanting to be sucked. Mewling, I cried out, and it was like Mason knew because in an instant, my blouse and bra were down to my waist as Mason's mouth latched onto my boob. Oh, fuck! It felt so good, jolts going straight from nip to cunt, insides juicing wetly. I gripped his hair and moaned frantically, wanting him and only him.

  “Mason!” I panted like a whore. “Oh god, Mason.”

  He pinched and sucked my nipples one after the other, yanking down my skirt before ripping it entirely off. But this was no gentle, easy fuck because in an instant, his finger pushed into me, stroking up my vaginal channel. Oh god, oh god, my pussy walls clamped around him, loving the deep slide.

  “You're already so wet for me, baby,” the alpha grunted heavily. For the first time that night, he sounded like himself, like he wanted me, actually treasured me. “I want to fuck you so bad. This pussy is mine, you hear?”

  He slid his finger deep inside me again as I squealed deliciously up top, spreading my legs wide. And settling into a slow and head-spinning rhythm, that man fucked into me with two, then three fingers. The stretch stung but I only wanted more.

  “I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me,” came that growl again. And true to his words, he pushed into me harder, fingers plunging in with a sticky liquid sound. “You got that?”

  Of course I understood, I belonged to the SEAL only, I’d never belong to anyone else. So I panted my reply, helpless to this man.

  “Yes!” I murmured desperately, grinding my heated pussy down on this fingers. “Yes, Mason. Fuck me, please! Do it Daddy please!”

  Oh god, were those really my words? Was I, a recent virgin, really begging an alpha SEAL to punish and take me hard? But the thing is, I desperately needed it, even more so after his earlier cold treatment. I needed his warmth all around, surrounding me, inside me. It was the only way I’d feel complete.

  And with a harsh, masculine groan, he drew back, looking intently at my face. “Fuck...Sara,” came his tortured growl.

  It felt like the SEAL wanted to say something because wild emotions twisted his face and he looked furious, then sad. But nothing else came out, and instead, he grabbed my hips and lifted me up. Shoving our interrupted dinner out of the way, the alpha dropped me on top of the table with a groan before dragging me to its very edge and shoving my thighs open. And then he was in. Oh yeah, that giant cock was in me and I gasped, eyes flying wide open. Even after a mere two weeks apart, I couldn’t believe how big he was, how huge and stiff, stretching out my insides.

  “Unnnh,” I moaned, shifting uncomfortably on his dick. “Unnnnh.”

  He kissed me deeply then, inhaling the moan.

  “That’s right baby girl, and don’t you forget it. You belong on Daddy’s cock.”

  I could barely hear, his dick owning every inch of my being. He was fucking massive inside, that thick pole splitting me open and I squirmed again on his cock, my pussy already aching and sore.

  “Unnnh,” I moaned again, throwing my head back this time while pushing my boobs forward. “Oh god, unnnh.”

  It only made Mason harder, his dick growing within me, stretching me out even more. Instinctively, I reached down between us for my clit. Oh god. Yes. That one touch felt so good and I wriggled more, fingers massaging furiously as that dick ripped apart my insides, pussy flowing a river. The juice leaked everywhere, dripping from my cunt, all around Mason’s fat cock and over the kitchen table.

  It was so filthy and slutty like this, straight out of some dirty porn movie. Because the table squeaked insistently as Mason started to move and the sound made my pussy clench tight. Eee-eee! Eee-eee! Oh god, I was such a fucking slut, letting him fuck me after being so mean.

  But I couldn’t help it. This man is my everything, I lived and died for his touch, and my pussy only juiced more, welcoming him inside.

  And Mason wasn’t immune either. Burying his face in my neck, he licked my throat, hips grinding below.

  “Fuck! You’re so fucking tight,” the big man growled, body tense and hard.

  I moaned my agreement, spreading my thighs wider so Mason could fuck deeper into me. His dick slammed into me, squelching wetly, such a dirty noise. I leaned back on the table now, bracing myself on flattened palms while he hammered me.

  “I missed your pussy so much.” He grunted each word after each stroke into me, his thrusts so hard and savage that they rocked the table, making
my big tits bobble up and down. “I didn't want to miss you,” he ground out. “I didn’t want to.”

  What did that mean? But there was no time to think because he shoved into me again, slamming into my soaked pussy, stuffing that cock up my sweet insides.

  “Unnh, ohhhh,” I cried out, gripping the table as my pussy got fucked. “Yes!”

  But Mason wasn’t done yet because the words kept coming, like he couldn’t help it.

  “I didn’t want to,” he ground out again, face a mask of lust and rage. “But damn, I fucking missed this slutty cunt.”

  And the dam broke loose then because he swelled even bigger inside me, the words coming like a torrent now.

  “I missed this.” The table rocked like we were in the middle of an earthquake. “You were all I could fucking think about.” The pounding sounds were insane, his dick squelching obscenely within. “But I want you. But I don't want to.”

  What? What did that mean? But it kept going. Fucking me and talking, grunting words to go along with every stroke of his dick inside me. He said more things, but I couldn’t hear, lost in haze of lust and pleasure. Because I'd missed him too, missed this, wanted this so bad that only a few strokes later I exploded, screaming wildly.

  “Mason!” came my full-body shriek, cunt spasming like I’d just been shocked with electricity. “Mason, unnh!”

  And at that moment, he burst as well, ejaculating with a roar.

  “Fuck!” came his deafening grunt. “Fuck you, fuck you!”

  I’m not sure if that’s what alphas say to their women, but there was some truth to it. He was fucking me, absolutely, and if he wanted to do it again, I was game. Because my body needed this man, I needed him and my pussy sucked that semen in deep, clenching and spasming around his dick.

  “Unnnnh!” I cried out again, head falling back as my pussy exploded once more. “Unnnh!”

  The big man grunted heavily again, dick blasting away inside, coating my inner channel with baby batter.

  “Awww fuck!” came his roar, “Fuck fuck fuck!”

  Exhausted, my thighs fell away from his hips as the sound of our loud panting filled the room. We stared at one another, amazed, before he pulled out and staggered off me, stumbling back with his pants around his ankles, dick still hard and wet from my juices and his cum. I pushed myself off the table and got to my feet, still dazed. Oh god, I had to get out of here. Spotting my blouse on the other side of the kitchen, I seized the garment, getting ready to put it on.