Hunter’s Baby

by Alexis Abbott

  That seems to hit a little too close to home, and I see Ronald’s mouth twitch. His eyes roll over to me.

  “You’ve got a feisty one on your hands,” he says. “She probably rehearsed that, in case she ever met one of the killers like us she likes to prattle about. Shame you didn’t stay with me. I could have taught you a lot, if you’d shown potential.”

  “Don’t worry, I learned plenty from you,” I say. “I learned what to look for in my prey.”

  “You two have such fun little comebacks,” he says, his mouth splitting into a hideously mild laugh. He pauses, then looks thoughtful. “I wonder if Flora will be as lively?”

  His hand wraps around his machete, and he lurches up far more quickly than either of us thought him capable of. His face looks more like a demon’s than a man’s. He lunges for me, arm raised as he crosses the small room.

  And at the same time, I flip the knife upside-down, bring it back, and let it fly from my hand, right toward him.

  He hasn’t even hit the ground before I’ve taken out the last lilac I’ll ever place.

  Blossom

  It has been one hell of an eight months.

  I lean back in my chair, groaning in relief as I shut the laptop in front of me. I feel satisfied. I’ve just finished two more chapters in the saga of the White Lilac Killer, the book that I’ve finally gotten around to writing. Just a few more, and I’ll have a workable draft to send off to editing.

  I hear footsteps behind me, and I let my head fall back enough to look behind me upside-down, where I see Hunter walking toward me, still in uniform after getting home from work just ten minutes ago.

  “Hey there, bestseller,” he says in a husky voice as he slides his hands over my shoulders and starts to rub them. “How’d it go?”

  “Just finished for the day, I think,” I say with a relieved sigh. “I’m dreading having to work on the ending, honestly.”

  “Is the publisher still giving you trouble about changing the ending?” he asks.

  “Yeah, and I’m not sure what to tell him,” I say. “You and I both know the White Lilac Killer died back in Maine. I didn’t think I’d have to play fiction writer for real, but I think we can come up with something good.”

  “I agree,” he says, leaning down and kissing me on the head before sliding his arms further down…

  ...and over my swollen, pregnant belly.

  We framed Ronald back in Maine, arranging the scene so that it looked like he’d killed himself and been the White Lilac Killer all along. I still don’t know entirely how Hunter pulled that off, but it fooled police reports. He evaded public attention, leaving Flora and I to be the ones who survived him.

  As soon as that blew over, we packed up and moved out here to Lancaster, New Hampshire, and Hunter’s new job set us up in this house that I don’t have a single complaint about. It’s a quaint little Victorian style house in a soft baby blue color with white trim that looks like a dollhouse come to life.

  The perfect place to wait for our second child to come.

  And it wasn’t long after finding out that our son was on the way that Hunter put a ring on my finger. He said he’d been planning it since we escaped the hell-house in Maine, and finding out about the pregnancy just felt like it was the right time.

  Besides, his new job as superintendent at White Mountain National Forest means we’re going to be stable and steadier than ever...and I’ve finally had time to get my true crime podcast off the ground.

  He kisses me on the cheek, and that kiss turns into several more all up and down the side of my neck, and by the time he has me blushing and laughing, he takes my hands and stands me up. I look up at him, unable to stop smiling, and I know the look on his face. He runs his hands over my swollen belly, then moves them around to my ass and gives it a squeeze as he pulls me closer to him. He kisses me on the lips this time, so deeply that I sigh into him, feeling warmth spread all over my body.

  He brings my hand up to his mouth, and he kisses the massive engagement ring on my finger, smiling at me.

  “What do you say, bride-to-be?” he asks. “I think you’ve earned some relaxation.”

  Less than a minute later, I’m giggling like a teenager again as I roll back onto the bed, and he slides my comfy pants off my legs. I crawl backward as he exposes my legs and my pussy, a hungry look in his eyes as he pulls the flowing maternity shirt off me, tossing it aside and leaving me naked before him. Something about being so exposed while he’s in uniform thrills me, and he seems to like it too.

  He runs his hands over my body, and I shiver, feeling him savoring every inch of me. I squirm on the bedsheets, reveling in how soft and comfortable everything feels. Clean sheets, a fresh room, and a rugged man who smells like rich earth and pine-- I don’t know what I did to deserve a guy like Hunter, but whatever it was, I want to keep doing it.

  We have to be more gentle now that I’m so swollen I feel like I’m going to pop at any second, but that hasn’t made the bedroom any less exciting. His hands grope my hips, then slide up and down my thighs as he kisses me all over. Anywhere there’s exposed skin, I feel his lips and the ruggedness of his beard brushing over me, making me tingle and feel so, so warm in the way only he can do.

  I let my head fall back, running my hands through my hair as I stretch out, and a moment later, I feel his tongue on my pussy. I let out a gasp as he starts licking me, hands clutching my hips and scooting me back into a more comfortable position as he crawls onto the bed. I feel like I’m a reward being devoured after a hard day’s work, both for him and for me. His tongue massages my pussy in long, strong strokes that end in some much-needed attention to my clit.

  Writing this book has been a passionate experience, both because I just like writing about the man I know to be my lover, and because I didn’t omit the parts of it that got a little less than family-friendly. Fortunately, Hunter is always here to scratch that itch.

  His tongue works my pussy relentlessly. Each time the tip of his tongue kisses my clit, I feel my heart pound faster, every nerve in my body enjoying the warm waves of bliss pulsing through me. I was already wet when he carried me to the bedroom, and now, I’m all the more excited. Being so uninhibited is beyond freeing.

  It’s perfect.

  Over and over again, his tongue makes me squirm, but his hands are so strong and firm that I can’t escape him. I’m a prisoner to his attention, and I feel myself getting tighter the more he works me. I reach forward and run my hands through his short hair, feeling his head as he devours me. I’m so wet that I can hear him down there, and it’s both embarrassing and wonderfully exciting all at once. I feel like I’m indulging myself more than I deserve, no matter how much Hunter tells me I deserve it.

  It doesn’t take long for me to give that telltale gasp. Ever since Hunter pointed out that he can tell when I’m about to come, I’ve gotten more embarrassed every time I start to. He thinks it’s cute, though, and I can’t get enough of the way he looks at me when he knows I’m squirming in his hands.

  I bring my hands down to the sheets and clutch them as I feel my whole body getting ready to release. The next moment, I let out a long, desperate sigh, arching my back as the fire in my pussy spreads out to the rest of my body. It’s utter bliss, and I let myself smile with my eyes closed while Hunter gives me one last, long lick up my pussy before standing up on his knees.

  He unzips his pants and moves forward, releasing that massive cock of his and stroking it while I crack my eyes open to look up at him and the pillar he holds over me.

  “I love you,” his thick voice growls as he perches his cock on my lower lips.

  “I love you so fucking much,” I breathe desperately, just a second before he penetrates me.

  His cock goes in deep, and since my orgasm hasn’t even finished yet, I whimper and shudder wonderfully as I feel his bulging, eager cock burying itself into me. I feel his rough clothes against my thighs as he picks my legs up and starts rutting into me. He’s gentle at first
, rocking back and forth to ease me into the action.

  It’s almost funny, seeing such a huge, powerful, aggressive man being so careful around my pregnant stomach. But he loves every second of it. Even being gentle and showing restraint, it’s just another way to show me that he loves me. And he doesn’t just love me-- he loves the family that we’ve made together.

  The ring on my finger is the only piece of ‘clothing’ I have on right now, and I never want to take it off unless I have to. Something about that visual symbol of our togetherness fills me with such a warm feeling that my heart does a somersault whenever I’m close to him.

  That means that when he’s inside me, it’s pure, uninhibited bliss.

  He gets faster as he finds a comfortable pace, sliding his cock in and out of me with hip and ab muscles that have only gotten stronger over time. He’s always looking for ways to perfect himself for me-- those are his words, not mine.

  He reaches further under my ass and hoists me up, angling me so he can get to an even better angle and start pounding into me the way he knows I love it. His cock is so long and thick that it fills every space inside of me better than I could have ever dreamed. It’s easy to lose myself in the feeling, letting my arms fall back and just pushing up my hips as much as I can to help him along. He insists on it being that way. He doesn’t want a pregnant woman having to go through too much trouble, even in bed, and I’m in no rush to argue.

  Besides, once this last month is over, I’m going to make it well worth his while.

  I feel him pulse inside me, and I know there’s a bead of precum spilling into me, mixing with my honey and letting me know that he’s soon going to be letting all that pent-up tension out on me soon. Every sensation in my body feels so much more intense when he’s in me. He’s a storm of passion every time he touches me, and it never seems to end.

  The bulging tip of his cock is grinding against the innermost depths of my pussy. It feels different almost every day now, thanks to the growing baby inside me. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s there. In fact, I kind of like it, more than I expected to like it. Everything feels more tight, but thanks to how wet he gets me any time he starts touching me, it doesn’t make it any harder. He feels bigger than ever, and he’s already huge.

  More importantly, he knows how to use it.

  His thrusting gets faster, and I watch his whole body moving like one perfect machine to fuck deep into me, pistoning with such precision that I feel the warmth in my body starting to crest up again. It’s like every part of me is being strung back, ready for release, and it’s such a warm and overwhelming feeling that I can do absolutely nothing to stop it. He has me impaled on his cock, and every time the rim of the crown of his cock slides through my wet pussy, I want him to just keep going.

  I lose track of time, gripping the sheets and clenching my eyes as the feelings get almost too strong to bear. But soon, I realize he’s losing his focus and going wild. I feel more precum spurt out of him, and I know he’s about to reach his peak.

  I bite my lip, bracing myself as I feel tighter and tighter under my belly, and finally, I let out a long, sweet gasp as I feel warmth spread out through my whole body at the same time that he comes. His hot cock releases spurt after spurt of healthy, virile seed, the same seed that put our second child in me.

  In that heightened state mid-orgasm, all I can think about is Hunter. The look on his face, the way he touches me, the feeling of his rippling muscles under my fingertips, it’s all too much to resist. Finally, it comes to an end, and reality seeps back into the room while he’s still lodged in me, panting and satisfied.

  I open my eyes to look up at his loving face, and he leans down slowly, scooping my head into his hand and kissing me deeply. We lose ourselves for just another moment until he pulls out of me slowly and smiles.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  I step out of the shower just in time to hear the school bus outside.

  We hurry to throw some clothes on, and Hunter leads the way, hurrying downstairs to open the front door. Flora comes racing inside just in time, right into Hunter’s arms, and he picks her up and hugs her, laughing.

  “Daddy!” she gushes as he swings her around, laughing.

  “Hey now, what about me?” I tease, putting my hands on my hips as I approach the two.

  “You gotta beat him to the door, Mommy!” she says, laughing as he kisses her head and lets her back down. She’s too big to be picked up very regularly, but that doesn’t stop Hunter. I have a feeling he’ll be doing that until she gets into her rebellious phase, and then he’ll surprise her and start up again when she chills out in her twenties.

  Oh god, nevermind, I don’t want to think that far in the future yet!

  “Come on,” Hunter says, gesturing for Flora to follow him toward the back door. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  “What is it?” she asks as she trots after him, and I follow along, beaming at the two.

  “You’ll see!”

  We step out onto the yard, where Flora wastes no time in running out at full tilt and going in circles while Hunter crosses the yard to the lilac tree in the middle of the back yard, and before he even points it out to Flora, I can see why he’s excited.

  “Here, look,” he says as Flora runs up to him, and he scoops the girl up into his arms and holds her up to the foliage.

  “Flowers!” she says excitedly as I come up beside them.

  “Yep,” he says, chuckling. “Blue lilacs. They’re just starting to bud. They’ll be blossoming in a few days, we should keep an eye on them.”

  Flora looks absolutely fascinated, and I can’t help but smile at it before nudging Hunter.

  “So,” I say, “Mr. Symbolism, if you liked white lilacs for the innocence, what do blue lilacs mean?”

  He laughs and looks at me lovingly, peering into my eyes for a long moment before answering.

  “Tranquility,” he says in a soft tone. “And happiness.”

  Blossom

  This is the happiest day of my life.

  And let me tell you, with the way things have been going over the past year or so, that’s a pretty big statement to make. Because my life is good. No, it’s amazing. I’m currently standing at the altar in front of the most handsome, clever, brave, selfless man in the world. He’s gazing down at me with something almost like tears sparkling in those gorgeous brown eyes, and I know I should be listening to what the priest is saying, but it’s hard to focus on anything except for the love thumping like crazy in my heart. It’s finally happening. We’re getting married.

  Behind me are my two bridesmaids, the most important women in my life. My sister Sage looks radiant with her hair elaborately twisted up into an elegant bun. For once, she’s let a real makeup artist do her makeup, and she didn’t even balk at the dress I picked out for her: a sapphire-blue, floor-length gown with intricate beading. Wearing the same dress but a long, flowy braid instead of a bun, is Samantha, standing next to her. As it turns out, Sam has been quite the busy little bee, finding a job, a place to rent, and getting her GED. Sage and Samantha have grown closer, since they still live in Albany. Last month, they got an apartment together and are helping each other get through classes. Sometimes it can be hard being away from them, since Hunter, the kids, and I all live in New Hampshire. But we Skype almost every day, and we visit as much as possible. It’s truly a blessing to have them here for our special day.

  On the other side of the altar, behind Hunter, are his groomsmen. Hunter has always led a solitary lifestyle, so it’s new for him to finally have a real group of friends. He met these guys at his job working in the national park. Their names are Travis and Will, and they’re exactly the kind of outdoorsy, rugged, lumberjack-esque types that make the girls swoon.

  Well, not me, of course. Because they may be great, but I’ve landed the best man of all: the boy I have loved since I was eighteen years old, since the first time I caught him hopping our fence while I was picking berries.
Since we first lay under the lilacs together, kissing and daydreaming about some distant, beautiful future. Well, that future is now.

  We’re here. We’ve made it!

  Standing off to the side a little, holding Sage’s hand, is Flora. I’m amazed at how she’s been able to keep quiet and well-behaved throughout the marriage ceremony. But that was the bargain; I promised her she could be the flower girl if she promised to be good. It worked. She’s been a perfect angel the whole time. Still, I’m kind of hoping the priest will hurry things along-- I’m eager to get past all the ceremonial stuff and just kiss my new husband already.

  Especially because there’s another little one struggling to keep quiet: our baby son, Forrest. Samantha, bless her, is holding him during the vows. She keeps having to rock him back and forth to keep him from getting cranky. Overall, he’s an angel baby; he rarely cries for long, and he’s got this thousand-watt smile that could melt even the coldest heart. I can’t wait to spend my life with Hunter, raising our little family and watching our kids grow up close and happy. I’m even thinking about getting licensed to work in child care and development, with hopes of Hunter and I eventually getting our foster licenses. We want to provide the service he was so cruelly denied. We want to be good parents, to offer a warm and happy home to children who so desperately need one. It’s a lot to take on, but with Hunter by my side, nothing is impossible.

  Finally, the priest says, “You may kiss your bride.”

  My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst as Hunter, the love of my life, the prince charming I’ve dreamed of for years, leans in to kiss me softly at first, then with a little more passion. I know it’s probably not super appropriate for church, but what can I say? We can’t help ourselves. He takes me by the hand and leads me down the aisle as our well-wishers stand up and applaud, tossing little white flowers over us as we pass. Once we all spill out onto the grassy lawn of the little white chapel with the red door, the festivities begin.