Knocked Up by the Dom: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance (Babies for the Doms Book 1)

by Penelope Bloom

  Lacey and I are dragged back through the hallway. The gloved hand is clamped so firmly over my mouth I can’t even open my jaw to bite. I try desperately to kick and pry myself free or scream, but I’m completely and totally helpless. Until the man reaches for the door to the stairwell. The movement gives me just enough freedom to slip my arm free and yank down on the fire alarm.

  The siren blares throughout the dorms.

  The man holding me wrestles my arm painfully back in his grasp and carries me down the stairs, not bothering to clamp his hand over my mouth anymore.

  “Fucking bitch. You’ll regret that,” he says in a thick accent.

  “Go out the back,” says the other guy, who has an equally strong hold on Lacey.

  “No shit,” snaps the guy holding me.

  They kick the back door open at the bottom of the stairwell and take us toward a car parked in the middle of the grass behind our dorm. Lacey and I are thrown into the back seat, where the men use plastic ties to bind our wrists behind our backs. They slam the doors on us. I expect them to get in seconds later, but instead I hear a muffled groan, a gunshot, and then something bangs against the car hard enough to crack the window on Lacey’s side. I strain to see outside the car, but I can only hear the sounds of struggle. There’s a loud snapping sound and two meaty thuds, then nothing.

  The driver’s door is yanked open and Jackson gets inside, breathing heavily. He leans across the middle console and runs his hands over my legs, arms, and face. His eyes are intently scanning me and his expression has worry written all over it.

  “I’m okay, don’t worry,” mutters Lacey.

  “Did they hurt you?” Jackson asks me.

  “Where are those guys? I heard a gunshot. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. We’re getting out of here. And then you’re going to explain what the fuck you were thinking running off like that.”

  Lacey and I exchange a few dubious looks, but Jackson is clearly not happy with us, and neither of us seem to want to be the ones to provoke him. The passenger door is yanked open. Both Lacey and I jump back, but Jackson doesn’t react. The man who enters is handsome. He wears a dress shirt and his hair is combed back. From the look he exchanges with Jackson, it’s clear they know each other.

  “So,” I say casually. “Any chance either of you want to cut these plastic things off of us?”

  “I think I’ll leave them on for now. Less chance of you running away again,” says Jackson before turning back to the wheel and continuing to drive in silence.

  “So,” says Lacey. “Who is the hunk?”

  I kick her foot, but she ignores me, leaning forward to look at Hunter.

  “Hunter Carlyle,” he says, half-turning to grin at her. “And you?”

  “Lacey.”

  He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Just the first name? Like Cher or Prince? I like that. It’s classy.”

  For the first time since I’ve known Lacey, I see her blush. She leans back, touching her fingertips to her lips and smiling distantly when Hunter turns back around. I lean over to her and lower my voice so only she can hear me. “Should you really be flirting? What about Cameron?”

  “Cameron,” she whispers angrily, “broke up with me today. He said he needed to focus on baseball. I’m a distraction, I guess.”

  “Why didn’t you call me or something?”

  She shrugs. Tears glisten in her eyes, but she blinks them away. “I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

  I hug her and let her rest her head on my shoulder for the rest of the drive. As bad as I feel for her, I can’t help wondering if getting out of that relationship could really be bad in any way. After the pain of being broken up with goes away, I think Lacey might end up happier.

  “Where are we?” asks Lacey a few minutes later when we pull up to the gate at Fairfield’s.

  I notice for the first time he wasn’t taking us to his house and frown in confusion. “Are you allowed to take people out of places like this?” I ask. I can guess at what he’s planning, and don’t see how it’s a possibility.

  “Technically?” asks Jackson, “No. I’ve prepared for something like this though. I think I’ll be able to figure it out.”

  “We grabbing her?” asks Hunter.

  “Something like that, yeah,” says Jackson as he pulls the car in front of Fairfield’s.

  “Wait here,” says Jackson. “This will only take a minute.”

  “Nope,” I say, getting out of the car. “I made the mistake of separating from you once. I’m not doing it again.”

  Jackson looks like he’s about to protest, but the corner of his mouth twitches up in a small grin and he nods. “Fine. Let’s go. Hunter, keep an eye on her friend.”

  Hunter winks. “One step ahead of you.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Lacey as we walk away and she mouths for me to shut up. Nothing like cute guys to distract us from nearly being kidnapped or killed.

  Jackson heads straight for the reception desk and asks for a man named Carl. The woman mutters something into a walkie-talkie and tells us to wait. A few moments later, a short, balding man hobbles into the reception area. He sees Jackson and narrows his eyes.

  “Is it that thing we talked about?” he asks cryptically.

  “Yes,” says Jackson. “I assume none of your information has changed?”

  The man licks his lips, nodding rapidly. “Yes, sir. Nothing changed. Meet me out back in two or three minutes.”

  Jackson and I head to the back of the building and wait again. We stand in silence for close to a minute before I finally wander closer to him and bump him with my shoulder. I give him a pleading, sorry for doing something so stupid look.

  He laughs softly, pulling me in tight and hugging me to his chest. “It’s okay, Princess. But you should know, I’m going to make you pay for it when I get you alone. I still have several weeks of this contract left, and I plan to use them to the fullest.

  I smile into him, hugging him tightly and wondering for the first time what happens when the contract ends. I was so worried about not being discarded before the month was up that I never stopped to think about what happens at the end. Does he just give me a handshake and send me on my way? Is any of this real, or is it all part of the game he plays? I’m about to ask him when the back door to Fairfield’s opens and Carl emerges, leading Jackson’s sister carefully out.

  Sarah lets herself be led to Jackson.

  “Remember,” says Carl. “I can give you one day before they come looking for her.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” says Jackson, leading Sarah and I back around to the front of the building where the car is still waiting.

  Jackson orders Hunter to get in the back so Sarah can sit up front. Judging by the look on Hunter and Lacey’s faces, they were talking about something while we were gone, and Hunter doesn’t put up a fight about being pushed to the back. Lacey moves over to the middle seat so I can get in, conveniently pushing herself closer to Hunter.

  The drive home is… interesting to say the least. No one speaks, but there’s definitely something brewing between Lacey and Hunter, who keep looking toward each other and laughing softly. Jackson is preoccupied with humming the lullaby I first heard him use to calm Sarah down in the cafeteria. She probably hasn’t been out of that hospital in years, and he’s probably trying to keep her from starting to panic.

  I spend my time looking out the window, letting my mind wander. I retrace the last few weeks in wonder. I feel like I’ve lived more in three weeks than I have in my whole life, and despite the faint tinge of regret when I think how I could have been experiencing life like this all along, I’m glad I waited. I don’t think any of this could have been so special if things hadn’t happened exactly how they did. Jackson wouldn’t have told me my writing was forgettable, I wouldn’t have had the extra bit of anger to push me past my shyness, and I might not have been the virgin he craved.

  I also think about how my mind is practically brimming with ideas for my st
ory now. I just haven’t had time to work on it. The time I’ve spent with Jackson has already filled me with pages and pages of material. I don’t feel guilty about it anymore, either. The inspiration for my story is just an extra little bonus. Being with Jackson is its own reward, and I know more firmly than ever that I would want to be with him whether it helped me with my story or not.

  I just wish I knew if he forgives me for it. For all I know, he’s up there dreaming of ways to punish me in the playroom for lying to him and for being dumb enough to leave the house without him at a time like this. Though I have to admit, part of me is hoping he hasn’t forgiven me yet because I’ll take any excuse I can get to have him put his hands on me again.

  62

  Jackson

  I breathe deeply and savor the scent of her. Brianne’s soft blonde curls cascade over the pillow. Her body feels so small and fragile in my hands, reminding me how much I would sacrifice to keep her safe. She had a long night tonight, so I wasn’t surprised that she fell asleep almost immediately when she laid down on my bed. I’m tired as hell, too, but I still haven’t completely put this thing with the Dominicans to rest.

  I slip out of bed without waking her and walk outside, pulling out my phone to make a call.

  The phone rings a few times before I hear the click of someone answering. “It’s late,” says a voice with a heavy accent.

  “I’m ready to make a deal,” I say. I thought this would be harder. From the moment I decided buying the Dominicans off was best, I thought it would feel like a defeat, like I was giving up. I thought it would make me resent Brianne for being a weakness that could be exploited. Except I feel none of that. I feel only calm. Serene. I’m doing exactly what I have to do to protect my Princess. There’s no defeat in it. I realize there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for that.

  The man on the other end sighs. “I’ve told you, Mr. Pierce. We want you to pay for making fools of us.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I get that. And I’ll pay you a hundred million dollars a year for the rest of my life. How’s that for payment?”

  There’s a long, very silent pause.

  “Can you even afford that?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say. I’m willing to give more, too, if this doesn’t work. I’ll give him every last penny if that’s what it takes to get them to call off their dogs. I just want to know I don’t have to worry about them hurting Brianne anymore.

  “Two hundred million right now. A hundred a year after that,” he counters.

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll have a contract sent to you. You should know,” I add. “If anything happens to me or the people I care about, the money will stop coming. So it’s in your best interest to make sure nothing happens to us. Do you understand?”

  The man chuckles. “Yeah, I understand.”

  I get the signed copy of the contract back the next evening. Seeing it is like a massive weight off my chest. It’s over. Hell, I won’t be surprised if the Dominicans assign a security detail to Brianne and I now just to make sure their payday doesn’t end. My life and hers are now worth a hundred million a year to them. I had to force Brianne and Lacey to miss classes today, but they will be happy to know it’s safe for them to get back to their normal lives now.

  Then again, Hunter will probably be disappointed. I look out to the back porch where Hunter and Lacey are sitting together on the patio, drinking wine.

  Brianne leans into me at the kitchen island, looking up to me with those adorably sexy blue eyes of hers. “What’s that?” she asks, looking at the contract in my hands.

  “This is assurance that it’s over. They aren’t going to bother us anymore. You can go back to your normal life.”

  She looks down, picking at something on the countertop. “What if I don’t want my normal life anymore? What if I want you?”

  I grin. “Are you implying I’m abnormal?”

  “Only in the best ways,” she laughs.

  I sweep her up in my arms, sitting her on the countertop and bending in to kiss her neck. “I’ll tell you what’s abnormal,” I say. “My submissive getting away without being punished for so long. You’ve been naughty as hell, and I think it’s time you paid the price.”

  She laughs as I carry her upstairs toward my playroom. She punches my back and kicks playfully, making half-hearted attempts to escape the whole time. Every step I take toward the playroom molds me more and more into the dominant, until my face is set hard with resolve. I kick the door open and throw her down on the bed, glaring down at her.

  When she sees the look on my face, her smile fades, replaced by something hungry and full of lust.

  “Don’t you dare move,” I say.

  She gets a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Or?”

  I narrow my eyes. I’ve forgotten how much I still need to teach her. How much I still get to teach her. I turn my back to her so she doesn’t see the satisfied smirk on my face.

  “When I turn around, I expect to find you with all your clothes off. I expect you to be on your knees and showing me that perfect ass of yours. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she says. I hear the sound of clothing dropping to the ground and the snap of elastic. When I haven’t heard anything for a few seconds I turn around.

  I find my princess is doing exactly as I asked. I walk a slow half-circle around where she kneels at the foot of my bed, admiring every line of her smooth body, relishing in the knowledge that it’s all for me, and it has only ever been for me. She’ll always be my virgin.

  She’s more than that, though. The thought strikes me out of nowhere, and maybe for the first time I’m standing face to face with the reality of what this relationship is becoming. I don’t give the thought the time to fully form though, because my Princess is waiting for me so patiently, and I can already see how badly she wants it.

  First thing’s first though, she need to be punished.

  I have a small freezer embedded in the wall of my playroom, and I open it to pull out a container of ice. I can tell Brianne wants to look so badly to see what I’m doing, but she obediently keeps her head down.

  I strip my clothes off and hold a single ice cube above the small of her back. The cube melts from the warmth of my fingers and droplets patter to her skin. She jumps slightly at the sensation. I kneel beside her and bend to suck the water from her skin, letting my lips and tongue linger enough to enjoy her taste.

  She makes no sound, but her breath quickens. I let more drops of cold water fall on her body, quickly following with my mouth each time. I press the ice cube now between her shoulder blades, dragging a path down her spine and watch as goose bumps form in my wake. I trace the same path with my mouth, kissing away the cold from her skin.

  “Now it’s time for your punishment,” I say, removing several ice cubes and placing them on her skin. I put one in the small of her back, one between her shoulderblades, and several more down the length of her spine. “The sensation of extreme cold begins to feel like pain very quickly. And this particular pain is for lying to me about your intentions when we met.”

  She begins to shiver, and though I would like nothing more than to remove the source of her discomfort, I don’t. I keep focused on the greater goal. When she steps into this room with me, one goal rises above all else: the perfect orgasm. Every single time she enters here, I have no bigger purpose than to give her the most mind-shattering, life-changing orgasms I can possibly give her. It’s her reward for being my submissive and it’s part of my promise as her dominant. Outside this room, there are many other elements to our relationship, but in here… One rules above all else: I’m in charge.

  I remove the ice, kissing my way between the cold patches of skin until she’s nearly warm again, relishing in every sigh and moan she gives me.

  But I don’t stop. I place more ice across her back, knowing full well that the cold will feel more intense this time.

  The difference between myself and other men isn’t just that I can introduce a woman to extremes.
It’s that I can push those extremes further than they thought they could handle. I know how to bring my submissive to the absolute brink and then help her ride the wave of euphoria all the way back to me.

  Determining the limits of a submissive is one of the most intimate experiences any dominant can have. Pain, as unpleasant as it is, has a way of stripping away all nonessential concerns. All the vanities and insecurities of the outside world can disappear in an instant in the presence of pain. It forces the body’s most primal drive to take control and demand one thing and one thing only: survival. And nothing activates the nerves like the survival instinct. Endorphins and adrenaline will flood her body, and that’s exactly when I’ll strip away the pain, when I’ll shock her system with pleasure.

  “You’re nearing your limit, Princess,” I say as I watch the cubes of ice pooling and melting, dripping down her body as she shivers.

  “No, S-sir,” she says through clenched teeth.

  I slap my palm across her bare ass and she jolts forward against the blow. It’s not a hard slap, but it’s enough to surprise her, and that’s enough. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. You’re nearing your limit. Aren’t you?”

  She nods her head.

  I lean close to her so she can see into my eyes. I can see all the strength and determination in hers, the will to push through whatever it takes. I can see how badly she is trying to trust me completely and believe that I wouldn’t put her through this if I didn’t think the reward would be worth it.

  “You’re not alone,” I say softly, kissing her tenderly as she shivers against me. I pull back long enough to speak between kisses. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

  “Always?” she asks. I’m about to swipe all the ice from her back and get her straight into the bed but I see something in her eyes that stops me.

  “Always,” I say.