by K. S. Adkins
So that’s what I do. Paying attention to each one I suck, tug, knead, and nibble, and dammit, nothing. Well, not nothing. She’s moaning and grabbing my shoulders, but I’m coming up dry.
“Last trimester,” she moans.
“Huh?” I ask, her running my fingers over her rock-hard nipples.
“Milk,” she whimpers. “Comes in last trimester.”
“Oh,” I say, disappointed.
“I need you, Jonas,” she begs, pulling me down to her.
“I don’t want to hurt your stomach, Princess.”
“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I swear to god when my milk comes in I’ll bottle that shit and pass it out to the homeless, now get inside me …”
Blinking, I just stare at her, replaying her threat in my head. “You do know that makes no sense right? And it’s just gross, Princess, really.”
“Jonas…”
“Are you hurting, Princess?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need me?”
“God, yes.”
“Who’s milk is that, Princess?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Still got fifteen seconds left, who’s is it?”
“Yours,” she moans. “You want it, it’s yours now —”
Never let it be said I like my woman to beg much.
When he latches on to my breasts again I’m close to coming unglued. I haven’t had a chance to tell him how sensitive they are, but he’s applying just enough pressure to give me that pleasure-pain sensation, and I can’t bear to have him stop. So when my inner geek showed up, I decided to roll with it, this way we can get off and educated at the same time. Running me hands in his hair I use it as an anchor and begin our lesson.
“My breasts are so sensitive, my nipples especially. You’ve noticed I cry easily because it’s like there’s an amplifier on my emotions, but I have a feeling once you’re inside me you’ll amplify my orgasm too.” When he moans and sucks deeper I remove both hands from his hair and move them into his jeans. Reaching in with my right, I grab hold while pulling his underwear down with the left, freeing him. His grunts assure me I’m on the right track.
“Your mouth is magical,” I tell him while stroking his cock. “Your tongue is so wet and warm.” When he gives me a tortured mmhmm I continue. “I want to feel it between my legs, Captain.”
He mumbles a “Fuck yes,” so I stroke him harder, faster, and deeper.
“I want to suck you too,” I tell him. “Missed your cock so much.” When he nods eagerly while biting my nipple, I take the next step, hoping he doesn’t shut me down.
“Get on your back for me, Captain,” I tell him while removing my hands, and slowly prying him from my breasts. Looking up at me he looks … hungry.
“Princess, I was happy where I was.”
“I’m about to make both of us a whole lot happier,” I advise him.
Reluctantly he lies back; when he looks comfortable, I turn around and straddle him with my ass in his face. Looking over my shoulder I let him know what comes next. “I’m going to suck you and you’re going to devour me, okay, Captain? Call it a two for one.”
When he’s quiet, my nerve starts to falter. Looking further over my shoulder I just see him staring. He’s deep in thought, and if possible, he looks even hungrier. Taking the first step I lean down to take him in my mouth while raising my ass even higher in invitation. He tenses when I first pull him in, then I feel his hands running over my ass, down my legs, back up, and then he runs a finger over my slit, causing me to shiver. Sucking him deeper, harder, he adds another finger, which causes me to moan. He follows me with a moan, then suddenly his face is buried, and holy shit he spares no time feasting on me inside and out.
While I do my best to keep up it hits me why I’ve never done this with anyone else, it’s because I was waiting for him. Telling him his mouth was magical wasn’t a lie. He’s giving me such a workout with his tongue, I can’t concentrate on him, at all. Sadly, my own mouth is all over the place. Not that I’ve ever had anyone complain, but even I know I’m giving the world’s worst blow job while getting the best tongue thrashing of my life in return. He’s working me with single-minded focus. His mouth, tongue, chin, everything is deep in there while his hands grip my ass. Just as I was about to take him even deeper into my throat my stomach tightens, my toes curl, and my orgasm reaches out, grabs hold, and forces a scream from my throat.
Ass in the air, face between his legs, all I can do is gasp for air. Holy shit, that was amazing. Suddenly he’s running his hands over my ass, up and down my legs, and when he runs his fingers through the evidence, it’s all I can do not to orgasm again.
“I did that,” he says, filling his fingers with my wetness.
“Mmm,” is all I can manage.
“You’re soaked,” he says, moving me to my lay on my back.
“Told you your mouth was magical.”
“My cock is, too, since I knocked you up first time around.”
“You sound proud of yourself.”
“Fuck yeah I am,” he says, kissing my neck. “So if I don’t pull out, I can’t knock you up twice, can I?”
“No,” I smile at him. “You can enjoy the privileges for a while, though, if you want.”
“Princess,” he whispers.
“Yeah, Captain?”
“I ain’t ever pulling out again. We can have ten kids, I don’t care, long as I come inside you.”
“I’ve never done that before,” I tell him, kissing his throat.
“No? Me, neither. Was that one of the things you wanted to try?”
“Yeah,” I tell him honestly.
“What else do you want to try?”
“I’d like to watch your masturbate,” I whisper. “Now.”
He closes his eyes, swallows twice, grabs my ass, and his hand finds my wet spot again. Moaning, I reach for him, wanting to keep him hard and willing.
“What else?” he asks.
“I’d like you to masturbate for me, and just before you come I want to climb on your lap and sink myself on top of you and ride you hard until you explode,” I tell him, getting hotter with every word I speak. “I want those things with you Jonas, only ever you. But only if you want it, too.”
When he moves over onto his back, takes his boxers all the way off, puts a pillow behind his head, and takes himself in hand, my own hands find the way back between my legs, and any expectations I had fly right out the window, because watching him jerk off in front of me is the hottest fucking moment of my life, and for me he is willing to do it.
Jonas
Don’t blow.
Don’t blow.
Don’t blow.
That’s what I keep telling myself. Until she mentioned it, I hadn’t realized how much I’d get off by doing it. Her eyes are glued to every move I make. When I moan she works her fingers faster, when my breathing picks up, so does hers. I’ve never done this in front of anyone or had anyone do this in front of me. I’m so close, but I want to watch her longer, just like I can tell she wants to watch me longer. Sweat is running from my neck to my back, my ass is wet and clenching, and my balls are so tight it fucking hurts, but nothing compares to the filth falling from her lips.
She’s begging me to go faster, to slow down, to grab my balls, to come in her mouth, on her face and inside of her. She wants me to spank her, pull her hair, fuck her, hold her down, and in between all that she tells me she loves me. She’s mindless, and honest to god? I’m right there with her. When she begs me to say something, I come up blank. She said she likes my filthy mouth, but any filth said was done by accident in the moment. Instead I tell her I’m going to come and, like a shot she jumps up on all fours, climbs up my body, and puts her wet fingers in my mouth. Straddling me I do the only thing I can think of, I suck her fingers focusing on ridding each one of her juice. I want that shit in my body, mingled with my blood, and belonging to me.
Already knowing
what comes next, I anchor each hand on a hip, and without thought my cock seeks inside of her. It can’t be denied anymore. She balances herself just on top of me, opens herself with one hand while resting the other on my shoulder, and then like her pussy knows it needs filling, it slides down on my cock until it’s skin on skin.
Dual moans fill the room. She’s panting, I’m grunting, and looking at us connected, I can’t deny the urge to put my hands on her slightly rounded stomach.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she starts to move. Slow at first, more like a rocking back and forth, then she moves her knees flush with my legs and starts bouncing up and down on me, and I just cannot fucking take it. It’s too good. Grabbing her hips again, I use my strength to make the thrusts harder and deeper, and when she cries out I do it even harder. Something primitive comes over me; where it came from, I don’t know, but when I looked up to watch my woman bounce up and down on my cock with rapture on her face, I fucking snap.
Tackling her to her back I roll her onto her side the push her up so she’s on all fours facing away from me. Needing her complete submission I apply pressure to her lower back and she instantly puts her head down on the mattress for me. Spreading her legs I want to stare at my prize, but I can do that later; fucking her is what I needed right now.
“Not gonna last,” I growl.
Not waiting for permission I take both hands, spread her wide, position myself, grab both hips, and absolutely bury myself deep inside of her. She screams. I about pass out, then realizing I really am going to come, I go at her like a man starved. Pounding her with force and possession, spewing words together not caring if they make sense. Just knowing I need more, I need to be up there as far as possible. I needed to make her mine again, and just as I feel the cum blaze up my balls to shoot out of my cock like a goddamned cannon, I do the only thing I can do.
I fell on her back tightening my grip around her, taking her flush to the bed. Fucking her, claiming her, owning her, pumping my hips, and soon shoot my seed into her perfect body. My last act of claiming is when I attach my mouth, teeth, and tongue to her neck where that motherfucker had hurt her, and bite down.
Erasing that piece-of-shit’s mark forever and replacing it with my own.
She screams in bliss, arches her back, then somehow tightens the hold her pussy has on me, and then I yell some profanity, followed by coming the hardest I ever had in my life. I’m in a daze, totally spent. So minutes later when she’s wrapped around me sound asleep, I realize I’m holding her, one hand on her belly, and still sucking on my mark.
Tonight, I fell asleep feeling pretty fucking smug and pretty fucking peaceful.
Waking up with a smile on my face is a nice change. Waking up with Jonas’ hands between my legs is even better. Taking my hands and sinking them into his hair, he works me faster and has me gasping, then coming in minutes. Surely that’s a record? Either that or I’m just easy.
Very pleased with himself, he kisses me and pulls me on top of him, whispering a rough “Mornin’, Princess” in my ear. Reaching down to give him some lovin’ in return, he stops me, but before I can ask why he tells me, “I’ve got my ring on your finger, kid in your belly, and your come still on my tongue, so get your sweet ass up so we can go apply for our marriage license.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he says. “Rogan and Venessa are meeting us in an hour to act as witnesses, so get that sweet ass dressed and ready to go.”
“What’s the rush? Not that I don’t want to, but —”
“I ain’t waiting to make you mine, I told you that.”
“You did a pretty good job of that last night, Captain.” I smile watching his eyes close, knowing he’s remembering, too.
“I did, didn’t I? Well, I still want it legal, so the first step is the license.”
“Okay,” I say in agreement.
Getting up from the bed, he takes me around the waist, pulling me onto his lap. Tilting my neck for access, he starts sucking on my neck again, and though it hurts, it feels really fucking good, too.
“You still wanna marry me?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “More than anything.”
“Love you, Princess.”
“I love you too, Jonas. Always.”
“I’m going to be a good husband and father, I promise.”
“I never doubted that,” I tell him, turning around. “We’ll do what they didn’t. We’ll do it right.”
“You’re gonna be an amazing mom, Macy.”
When he releases me, I kiss him soundly on the lips, turn, and make my way to the bathroom smiling the entire way, knowing he’s staring at my naked ass. Just before closing the door I say a silent prayer, hoping my ass is spared in the delivery of this baby.
Once in the bathroom I take care of business, then hop in the shower. Nausea is present, but I’m fighting it back, silently begging my own body for a small break. This time yesterday I was an emotional mess, pitiful, destroyed by grief and loss, and now this morning I’m engaged to be married to the man I love. Holy fucking shit.
Reality starts creeping in while I rinse the soap off. What about who wants my data? What of the missing girls? My research? My job? I have so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. Oh, and I don’t know, plan a wedding, too. Stepping out of the shower I take a deep breath, towel off, and calm myself. I can do this, all of it. One step at a time, if anyone can multitask, it’s me.
Putting on my lotion, deodorant, and moisturizer I drop the towel to look in the mirror to see if I look as different as I feel. Once the bathroom steam clears I turn to the left then slowly turn to the right and yep, I look different, all right. Leaning forward over the sink and turning my neck, I see I’m sporting a hickey the size of a goddamn hockey puck.
“Jonas Rafe, you motherfuckin’ sonofadonkeywhore!”
Within seconds the door busts open with Jonas looking around for something to kill. When he sees no threat he approaches me and asks, “The fuck are you screaming for?”
“Look. At. My. Neck,” I grate out.
“Oh, right, that. What about it?”
“What about it? A little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. Since we can’t get married today, I wanted you to wear my mark and now you are, simple.”
“Why didn’t you just tattoo ‘Property of Jonas Rafe’ on my fucking forehead?”
“You’d go for that?”
“I may kick your ass if you don’t promptly exit this bathroom.”
“Princess, come on, it looks hot. Get used to it, I’m going to be doing that every chance I get,” he says, then exits wearing a fucking smirk on his face. “Oh, and that language? Probably not good for the baby.”
Slamming the door closed, I throw my robe on, tilt my head, and look in the mirror one last time. Fuck, he’s right, it is hot. I’ve never had anyone claim me like this before. I don’t know, but it’s very … primitive. I’m so fucked, and with that thought, I grab a scarf before leaving the bedroom, knowing that what’s under this scarf is mine, and I am not sharing it.
City Hall is a clusterfuck, but I expect nothing less. All I care about is that the license is applied for, and the next step is vows. I want those vows. Rogan and Venessa go do their own thing after, while we do ours. If I give Macy her way, she will obsess over finding those girls, who accessed the Rohypnol to dose Venessa, and who paid Briggs to assault her for the info in her head. So I’m taking Venessa’s advice and gently steering her in another direction, hoping she’ll allow Rogan and I to do the investigating. As if I wasn’t paranoid about her in the field before, I’m flat-out frantic now that she’s pregnant. Venessa is going to be calling asking Macy to go shopping which she also told me could blow up in my face because, and I’m paraphrasing here, “We don’t fucking shop.”
After making lunch she goes right back to work collecting more data. Shortly after sitting down she runs to the bathroom to chuck and makes me promise to stay in the kitc
hen, so here I am. Feeling helpless. Coming from the bathroom, she looks so tired. Beautiful, but tired. She smiles at me and digs right back in, typing all sorts of shit I’ll never understand into her computer. My own brain is getting foggy looking up anything that might link these girls to Macy, her research, the club, or the hospital, but I’m coming up with vague leads. Needing a break, I open a new search engine and type in pharmaceutical scientist to get a better idea of what exactly it is she does, and once I start reading my eyes glaze over. Jesus, it’s like smart people speak a completely different language.
Basically, there are several branches, but she specifically works in pharmaceutical chemistry, and her job is to study drugs and determine how drugs affect the body, and also how the body affects drugs. If I’m reading it right, that is. Bottom line, she’s wicked fucking smart.
I’m focusing so hard on learning more about her career that she is able to sneak up on me and wrap her arms around. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.
“Venessa called,” she says, licking my ear. “Get this, she wants to go shopping.”
“I take it that ain’t something she usually does?”
“Try never, but she’s excited for the baby and wants to grab some things. Do you mind?”
“It’s cool. Rogue and I have to hit the station, so you can take my truck if you want.”
“You’d let me drive it?”
“It’s insured.”
“I’m not going to wreck it.”
“If you drive like you walk you will. Like I said, it’s insured.”
“It was one time!” she squeals in my ear. “The cement was uneven!”
“Princess, take my truck. Shop, have fun, and meet me back here for dinner.”
“Oh, okay then,” she says, switching moods, then kissing me on the cheek.
Ten minutes later she leaves. Five minutes later Rogan pulls up, and two minutes after that I’m told two more girls from her work are missing, and I can’t help but feel time is running out and that my woman has a target on her back. Rogue and me have to figure some shit out, and soon. My anxiety has anxiety, knowing my woman is out there without me. No, it doesn’t help knowing her and Venessa are a powerhouse. I’m not there, so we need to investigate and put this shit to bed.
