by Zoey Parker
It’s so breathy, that one word, I don’t figure he’s heard. Yet his brows sink deeper, his mouth clamps close and his gaze darts over my face. I can hear the cogs working in his mind as he jumps from Derrick Smyth’s evil legacy to my news.
“You’re what?”
I lower my head, unable to say it again staring him head on. All of this is happening so fast. One moment I’m determined not to share anything with Luke and the next I’m rushing through it, like the window of opportunity is shutting, closing forever.
“I’m pregnant. In the family way. Carrying your child.”
“I heard you,” Luke pushes out the words on a long exhale. “How? I mean, I know how, but when? But how too? Weren’t you on the pill?”
I glower at him. My wrath at his implication of my being at fault with the birth control pills makes it easier to look at him. “Last time I checked I was taking my pills just fine. Besides, what happened to wanting to do it without the condom on Sunday?”
“That was three days ago. You don’t get pregnant in three days.”
He’s right, but it only irritates me more. “Well, how do I know you weren’t popping holes into your condoms?”
“Oh, Lily,” he shakes his head.
“Don’t do that.” I snap. “Don’t turn this on me.” And then the wrath slips away and exhausting melancholy supplants it. My hands lay limp in Luke’s hold. I stare holes into his strong chest. “I didn’t want this, but I’m not going to lose the baby. I’ll raise him or her alone if I have to.”
“No, you won’t.”
I find his steely eyes, horror replacing the waves of coming and going sorrow.
What I hadn’t factored into my planning a new future around the baby is Luke’s wealth, not to mention his charisma and sway in Potentia. He could easily take this child from me and keep him or her far away.
Once that idea is implanted, I can’t uproot it. Struggling against him with renewed vigor, I yell, “I will. I will! It’s my baby. Mine! You’re not going to muscle in here and do what you want, not this time, Luke!”
“Lily—” Luke’s tone is warning. I’m pushing him…and he’s not used to it. Well, he better get comfy because this is how I’ll be treating him from now on, so long as he plans to rip my child from me.
“You don’t even want the baby,” I snap.
“Who said I didn’t want the baby?” Luke roars.
I yelp, shutting my mouth, my eyes wide with a surge of shock.
We’re both panting. It’s as close as we can get to being hot and bothered in each other’s company without actually doing the deed.
“So,” I blink, licking my lips. “You want the baby then?”
He glares down at my belly like he’s got Clark Kent’s laser vision and can see our little fetus nestled away in there, safe from mommy and daddy’s angry words. “Of course I do. It’s my baby, isn’t it? A Hanley doesn’t turn their back on family.”
I’d say something smart and snippy then, maybe along the lines of how I don’t know much about the Hanleys, but there’s a subtext in his statement—more to the comment than a random boast of bravado. I have no doubt Luke will take care of whatever he sets his mind to, and if he really does care for this baby, then he’ll be there.
For the baby, I remind myself. And in nine-ish months, I won’t come with the baby as a two-in-one deal.
“Fine,” I say.
“Fine,” he echoes.
A silence stretches on endlessly until Luke gives my wrists a squeeze. “So, you’re not really sick?”
I bite my lip, shaking my head slowly.
He nods curtly. “Good. I guess we have two reasons to celebrate.”
But I’m not sure either of us is up to celebrating, not after the ugly words we’ve traded. They could have been nastier, sure, but this is the closest to a fight we’ve had since that first time.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want you think you have to raise the baby. I can do it alone, really.”
Luke slowly raises my hand on his chest to his lips, brushing his mouth over my knuckles. “You’re not alone. Not ever again.”
I’m tearing up again. Luke’s small smile is coming through a blurry veil. I hate to be falling into hope when I’m not even clear on what he means. Surely he isn’t suggesting we…
“We’ll get married, if that makes you happy. Or we could wait, see the pregnancy through, and then talk wedding.” Luke’s deep voice rolls out more possibilities, planning our lives. He mentions how he’ll have to talk to his father, introduce me to Floyd Hanley more properly, and how he’d like for me to move in with him.
It’s everything my heart wants to hear, but I’m telling him the exact opposite. “I can’t.”
Blinking rapidly, I raise my eyes to the ceiling to get my grounding. A couple deep breaths help. Luke waits, confused, for me to elaborate.
“You’re doing it for the baby, and as much as I appreciate hearing you’ll be a good father, I can’t move in with you. And we definitely shouldn’t be talking marriage—” I’m cut off, Luke’s hand cupping my mouth. The rest of what I had to say, along the same fall-over-my-sword lines, is muffled.
“Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?” Dropping his hand away, Luke sighs. He releases my hands, freeing his arms to snake around my middle, pulling me against him.
In my camisole and leggings I can feel all of his delicious male hardness. If I wasn’t waiting with bated breath to see what he has to say, I’d have been rubbing against him, trying to get to the thickness kissing my belly.
“I would have done this eventually.”
“Married me?” I ask, breathless at this odd proposal.
“Yeah, someday…maybe,” he says.
At my frown, he rushes on, “I would have liked to get to know you more, have this unfold more organically, but we’re having a baby. And I’m fucking ecstatic.” Luke smiles shyly, his gaze darting to a spot over my shoulder. “And, uh, yeah, I’m happy it’s you. Not that I’ve been seeing any other women.” He winces.
I laugh.
Luke’s deeper, gruffer laugh mingles with mine.
“Not my finest moment,” he says when we settle down from the hysterics. So much has happened—the laughter is what we needed. The mood between us clears up, right as rain, and the future is brighter, crisper, and more welcoming.
“About that celebration then?”
“Trying to change the subject,” I laugh. “I do have ice cream in the freezer.”
Luke’s gaze scorches a path to my chest. “Ice cream sounds great. And I think I know where I’d like it.”
Flipping me around then, Luke presses me to the door, his body covering mine. I drag a leg up and hook it over his hip and around to his ass. I push him closer, almost getting our crotches together. Luke has to help me there, his hands hoisting me up. Then using the door as support, we grind against each other.
My clit finds purchase in his relentless hips. They work fast, his zipper bumping me a couple times, sending skitters of pussy-clenching pleasure through me. I moan my release, seizing back against the door, allowing the cresting waves to rise and crash before rippling off to calm.
Luke is still wild and horny.
I know where he’s carrying me, but we do make a pit stop for some ice cream. “Strip,” he commands, sitting me on my bed.
My naked breasts have an instant effect. Luke prowls forward and I flop down on the bed with him crawling over me. He kisses me hard and smacks away wetly, his greedy lips latching onto a pert nipple. He’s given me one orgasm, and I can feel another building from his nipple play.
“I could suck you all day,” he confesses, hot breath falling over a wet nipple.
I arch up into him, restrained by his heavy body. I beg for him incoherently, parting my legs open with the invitation I can’t voice.
He has the ice cream now, his digit soaked with the sweet coldness, his fingers tracing around my puckered areolas. His tongue is quick to
clean me up; the contrast of the hot, wet muscle slurping up the cold ice cream brings forth a gushing from my crotch.
Luke chuckles. “You like that, don’t you?” He takes more ice cream down lower, his hand covering my aching core and his wet digit smearing my clit with the coldness.
He plays with my clit, alternating between dabbing it with ice cream and sucking it off with loud pops. His talented tongue traces my opening, and setting aside his ice cream, Luke parts my outer lips. I feel the cold air brushing in before his warm, wriggling tongue squirms inside me.
“Luke,” I cry out his name, hands grabbing his head, fingers daggering through the soft, mussed locks.
I’m riding his tongue, wanton and wild. Luke has to reach up to restrain me from rubbing myself on his face. He wipes my juices from his lips, his jaw stained with the shiny wetness. I get a taste myself when he kisses me, his still-clothed cock brushing my entrance.
“Luke,” I moan. “No more.”
“No more?” He shakes his head and I mimic him.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, he draws closer. I hear his zipper, the sound tauntingly loud, and I feel how my core hugs emptiness in anticipation. When he’s inside me, filling me up, I’m sighing with relief.
But then I’m demanding he move with my hips. Luke complies, done tormenting me, and he thrusts at a pace we can both reach our orgasms. I come first, his thumb reaching down and flicking my clit to start the first swell of arresting pleasure.
I hear Luke coming, groaning my name loud. He fills me up with his warm seed, holding himself deep inside until he’s spent and tumbling us around with him under me now.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, and soon his breathing evens out.
I study his slumbering profile, reaching to connect our mouths. When I move back, I swear I catch a smile. It’s enough for me to snuggle in and close my eyes knowing I’m safe in Luke’s arms.
Chapter 17
Luke
Waking up to Lily’s hand stroking me is easily the best alarm clock.
My dick juts out, long, thick, and weeping in her tiny hand. She pumps, her leg tossed over mine, face peering up at me. She smiles when she sees I’ve woken.
“Finally,” she whispers, her yearning punching husky notes in that one word. “I thought you’d never wake, sleeping beauty.”
“Beauty, huh?” I snort. “I haven’t heard anyone call me beautiful.”
“That’s a shame. All that light blond hair, that gorgeous strong jaw and those juicy lips; you’re a walking, talking sex toy.” Lily’s lazy smile parts for a yawn, her dark, lust-glazed orbs closing.
She nods, snapping alert. “Oops,” she giggles, “almost conked out there, leaving you so hard and wanting...” Her hand fastens a tighter grip around me. She’s going too slowly for me.
“What’s with the potty mouth, suddenly?” I reach for her ass, grabbing a fistful of one cheek. Squeezing, I smack the plush flesh, watching her mouth round out for her sharp moan. Smacking her again, I say, “I’m going to have to fill that mouth, occupy it, and wash it out nice and good…”
“Yes.” She pants, breath hitching at my next smack. Her ass is a becoming red by the time my hand is smarting.
Lily’s been stroking me, trying her best to give me pleasure while I rewarded her rear with some attention. She’s slowed and her pace before was torturous, so I’m going to have to show her how to milk her man.
“You ever give a hand job, babe?”
She nods, tentatively. Her hand has stilled.
“I’m not jealous. What you did before me is the past.” I assuage her worry, kissing her brow, right above the wrinkled creamy flesh between her dark, shapely brows. “And I’m your future, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she smiles. She looks down when my hand wraps around hers over my cock. I slide her palm up my shaft and drag our hands back down to the base.
Lily watches, entranced while I take us up again, her pink tongue lashing out to massage her lips.
“Adding a little spin is always welcome,” I say. Maneuvering her palm, I show her what I mean by twisting our hands around my shaft from base to head. “You don’t have lube, but I’d normally recommend it.”
Lily frowns and then she reaches between her legs to tease her core. She takes her juicy hand out and holds it up for me to see. “But this will do?”
“That will most certainly do.” I grin.
Moving our hands, I let her palm coat my shaft before we pick up with the tag-team hand job.
“Can I?” Lily asks at one point.
My breathing has grown more labored and my balls have drawn up. I see her fixated gaze on my cock, so I nod, dropping my hand and digging my fingers into the mattress.
Lily crawls down, her hair tickling my thighs as she nestles between my legs. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this position. Most of the time she’s open to me, but now I’m at her mercy.
She swipes at the pearly drop of come pushing out of my slit. She digs her tongue in and I lurch off the bed, not expecting it at all. Lily pulls off, her eyes wide, hands clasps together in front of her naked breasts.
“Was I not supposed to do that?”
God. She hasn’t given a blow job before. So I’d be her first in one way.
I shake my head, grunting, “No, it’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” I nod at my cock. “Get back to work, Lily. You're not done.”
Lily eagerly goes at it—goes at me.
“Just like that, sweet thing. You’re going to get real good as I’d like this once in a while.” I smile at her enthusiastic nod before she takes another bolder lick over my slit. She traces her tongue around my corona, her other hand pumping and twisting my shaft, just as I’d shown her.
I hold back from spearing myself past her mouth. She’s new at this; a keen learner, but still a novice.
She licks me like the ice cream I’ve forgotten on her night stand. Sometime after we had sex the first time, I woke to find her out for the count and I rearranged us on the bed and saw to it that the ice cream didn’t spend the night with us under the blanket.
“You’re salty a bit. And you’re so red. Is it always so red like this up here? You like it when I suck just the tip?” She makes little observations like that, panting around me, driving me mental with need.
Lily takes more of me in gradually. Soon her head is bobbing up and down my shaft, her cheeks hollowing out as she gets to the tip before she vacuums the rest of me down. Her nose burrows into my pubes, her eyes watering. The gag reflexes are fighting her, but she’s a trooper, taking me all in, keeping me on the edge.
It’s her hand sneaking under and cupping and squeezing my scrotum that does it.
When I come, I raise off her bed.
Lily moans too.
The vibrations flow through my cock to my balls and the bloom of pleasure flowers out to my extremities, my toes curling and my head snapping back further into the pillows.
“Lily,” I groan her name.
She catches me, swallowing as I spurt in her mouth. She coughs then, sitting up and spattering out my juices before covering her mouth and turning away to catch her breath. I leak the rest of my ejaculate onto her bed, and as soon as I can gather myself up, I sit up and draw her close.
Rubbing her back, I coo encouragement. I’m still a livewire, sparking with the intense orgasm. I kiss her hot cheek, nuzzling my nose in her throat, my lips touching her leaping pulse.
“We should take a shower.”
Lily lets me sweep her feet out from under her, carrying her across the hall to the bathroom. We shower together. I soap her up and she does the same for me. During the rinse, I see to it that I give her the release she’s been holding while giving me her first blow job.
I have Lily’s back pressed to my front. I stop her from searching out my half-mast erection. It’s nudging her back and it’ll stay like that. This moment is for her.
I hold her still by flattening a palm over her belly. She’s carryin
g my baby in there, and I can’t wait for her to grow fat with the evidence. Then everyone will know Lily’s mine.
“Mine,” I breathe into her hair. Pinching her clit, I rub the hard button, my fingers slipping down to spread her warm folds and slide into her hot core.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Let it out, baby. Give me your honey.” I curl two fingers against that secret spot.
She doesn’t need much. Lily comes quickly, surprising me when she gushes hard. Her juices spurt over my hand, and down my wrist and arm. Her walls grip my fingers, her back arching up and with a final, long moan, she sags against me.
