Pleasingly Plump (Babes of Biggal Mountain Book 2)

by Elaria Ride

  Just as I’d suspected, Marina doesn’t sound overly surprised.

  A moment later, she lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, Finn, I wish I could say that shocks me, but…” she trails off, shaking her head. “I’d always suspected as much. That’s why I insisted on going on the Pill right after Marco was born.”

  Mike’s body seizes even more tightly from his place by the door, and I can actually sense his whole body shaking with rage.

  My lip curls in satisfaction. He knows he’s been caught.

  “Well, I’m glad we’ve got that out in the open,” I say, releasing my hand from its place on the doorframe. Mike turns around slowly, and I wrap a protective arm around Marina.

  She shoots him a withering glare.

  “You know, I don’t think I trust you with my son right now,” she says cooly, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Mike has the arrogance to look baffled at her request. His eyes narrow as she lays into him.

  “Oh, and you know what?” Marina pauses in mock consideration. “You’re going to bring Marco back. And he’s going to spend the night with us, right in my apartment. Actually, he’s going to spend every night with me and my boyfriend Finn — I see that the two of you have met — until we have a formal meeting with the mediator.”

  Mike’s eyes narrow as she lays into him, and I’m a little alarmed to find that this is arousing.

  Marina plows on, unconcerned. “Per the terms of our custody agreement, Marco’s not even supposed to spend any time alone with someone who isn’t on the approved babysitting list. And last I checked? That list is limited to Sylvie and his daycare provider. Christina has her own kid, so I know she won’t hurt him, but I definitely wouldn’t have signed off on that floozy watching my kid.”

  I chuckle as pride surges through me. That’s my girl…

  Unbelievably, Mike continues to get ever redder, and Marina just smirks at the back of his neck. “And now that you’ve admitted to getting me pregnant on purpose?” She sucks her teeth, disgusted. “We will definitely be renegotiating the terms of our custody arrangement.”

  Apparently, her words remind Mike that he has a voice.

  He turns around to face her, his expression crumpled in a loathsome glare. “Prove it, bitch. It’s my word against yours.”

  But Marina just grins back — and I know she’s got him.

  “Actually? It’s my word against Christina’s.” She removes her phone from her pocket, and for the first time I see something akin to fear flicker across Mike’s face

  “If you don’t return my son to me within half an hour, I think Christina will receive an anonymous text telling her to inspect the condoms in your apartment. And I can’t wait to hear about how some of them contain mysterious little holes!”

  Mike is positively glowering now, so angry that I can almost feel the heat radiating off of him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he seethes, although I can see him scooting closer to the door. “No idea at all.”

  Marina shrugs casually. “Maybe. Maybe not. But if Marco isn’t in my arms in thirty minutes, we’ll get an answer.”

  There’s another beat of silence, but it’s not filled with anything resembling the pain or awkwardness of before. It’s definitive. Smug.

  And the silence is broken — quite quickly — when Mike takes one last, heaving breath and storms from the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

  Marina and I stare at the closed door, our breath coming in sharp pants.

  With his departure, something hums in the air between us — something primal, something possessive… and beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know that whatever is humming through the air means that she wants me almost as much as I want her.

  As if confirming my point, Marina turns to me, her eyes so hooded and wanton that it’s impossible to tell who moves first. We lunge for each other, mouths connecting fiercely in a kiss. Arousal thrums through my veins as she moans into my mouth, and I walk us up to the doorframe before reaching around to lock the door.

  I estimate we have about 15 minutes before Mike comes back — which I’ll take as a personal challenge. Marina’s clearly on the same page, because her fingers are already attacking my belt, pulling my cock from its confines once more. I’m thankful I’d never bothered to put on a shirt back on during the whole Mike exchange.

  “You,” I pant, sinking to my knees to unbutton her jeans. “Are so fucking sexy.”

  She giggles and helps me slide them off before removing her black lace panties, too. My cock throbs impatiently as I remove her— my? — shirt, and my eyes glaze over as her breasts give a little bounce at the friction.

  She makes quick work of my jeans and briefs, and in another second, I’m stepping out of them and grabbing handfuls of her perfect, fleshy ass. She arches against the door and moans from deep in her throat, and yes… I can smell how wet she is, even from this distance. I know she’s ready.

  My cock twitches against her belly, already full-fledged despite the strength of my earlier orgasm. She groans again and impatiently grabs it with her hands.

  I’m reading her loud and clear: I need to get on with it.

  In one swift motion, I grab her ass in both hands and hoist her up against the door, loving the little shriek that comes from her lips as the underside of my cock grazes against her sensitive pussy, just touching her clit.

  “You’re mine,” I say, still seized with possessiveness as I position myself against her entrance. She nods mutely, and her breath comes in even sharper gasps. I give her a devilish smirk; I hadn’t even considered this part — that it might be fun to dominate her, too.

  She impatiently wiggles her hips, but I know what she needs… and I know how to give her what she wants.

  So I do.

  In one thrust, I sheath myself completely inside her, relishing in our shared moan at the contact.

  Yes… I like this position.

  She throws her head back against the door as I begin slow, pounding thrusts, my hips snapping back again and again and again. I shift my hold on her ass to better hit her g-spot, and when she starts giving me breathy moans, I know my cock is providing the most perfect, delicious friction against her clit.

  “Finn,” she whimpers, her eyes sliding shut, “I want you to fill me up. Please. You’re going to — you’re going to make me —”

  “Good,” I growl, thrusting her even harder against the doorjamb. She writhes from her place in my arms, and I know she’s close, so close.

  I lean in close to her ear, surprised to hear that my voice is deep, possessive. “You’re mine,” I pant. “You’re mine, Marina. And you’re going to come for me. Because I. Fucking. Love. You.”

  I punctuate my words with a final thrust, too far gone to consider ramifications of what I’m actually admitting. But if Marina is put out by my confession, she doesn’t act like it. In another second, I hear her hoarse cry, and as soon as I feel her pussy start to contract, I know it’s over for me, too.

  I bellow from a place deep in my chest, unable to hold my orgasm back. I shove her against the door once more, the sounds of her breathy release still sounding in my ears as I empty myself inside her.

  My cock pulses again and again, and it arouses me, I realize… it turns me on that she’s letting me come inside, that she wants my cum to fill her up…

  I allow myself a few hesitant, trembling moments to return back to earth.

  And then my feelings promptly come rushing back, even as I clutch her intimately against me. I feel sick to my stomach, horrified that I’ve completely chased her away, ill at the thought that this might be the last time I ever see her…

  Because when I think about what I’ve just revealed? It’s absolutely insane. After all, being in love with someone you’ve barely met is a far cry from normal. Feelings hadn’t even come up during our brief courtship, and I’m sure she’s disgusted with me.

  I’m prepared to do damage control, to cover my words with any excuse, when Marina
leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

  And then she says the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

  “I love you too,” she whispers, tracing a finger down my cheek.

  I feel my face splitting into a deliriously happy grin as she peers up at me, and another thought occurs to me — one even crazier than the thought I’d had before.

  I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life showing her my love.

  11

  Marina

  Mike’s true to his word; I have to give him credit for that.

  After Finn and I had admitted our feelings for each other— which had somehow felt like an even greater release than the powerful orgasm we’d shared — we’d scarcely had time to clean up before Mike had returned with Marco. He’d spared us one filthy retreating look before crawling back to whatever den of depravity had released him in the first place.

  For someone who claims to value his manhood so much, he’d given up surprisingly quickly. But for an ego as weak as his? I suppose that’s not overly surprising. Even someone with his intellect could see that I’m happier with Finn.

  I shake my head, realizing that I’ve been staring at the closed door in disbelief, even as Finn begins to serve Marco dinner behind me. I stand up and make sure to lock the door, this time — and I promptly turn back to my phone to give Christina the head’s up she deserves. I don’t care much for the mistress who’d willingly slept with a married man, but I’d really hate to see Mike gain any shred of happiness at the expense of someone else… even if that “someone else” is his cheating secretary.

  By the time I’m done texting Christina, Mike has already cut up a dumpling for Marco from the Chinese takeout he’d brought. I’m sure it’s gone a little cold over the course of our…activities…but Marco doesn’t seem to mind. The three of us proceed to enjoy a pleasant meal so seamlessly that it’s almost like we’ve done it before. Marco makes conversation about cartoons, taking extra care to explain his favorite characters through the use of eating utensils.

  Finn chuckles at his antics and almost instinctively reaches out to ruffle Marco’s hair when the stops babbling for a split-second. Marco beams back at him, and that warm feeling blooms in my chest again, that one we’d only scarcely begun to define earlier.

  Even though it’s scarcely been any time at all, I know what this feeling is: Love.

  I’m so dazed that I hardly notice we’ve finished eating until Finn brings our plates to the sink and gets Marco to help with the washing. I move to stand from my seat at the table, but Finn gives me a firm shake of the head.

  “We do the cleaning, right Marco? Us guys.” He finishes with a wink, and I’ll be damned if Marco doesn’t act excited about cleaning for the first time in his life.

  I manage to suppress an eye roll. But just barely.

  I’ve certainly never managed to get Marco that excited about cleaning, but I can’t deny that Finn’s charm has certain benefits.

  Marco babbles some more about Lego characters while “helping” Finn clean up, and by the time they’re done, I think he’s convinced Finn to watch his favorite movie on Netflix. On any other night I might’ve insisted on a book before bed…but Finn’s giving me a warm, searching up-and-down look over the top of Marco’s head; snuggling up on the couch with my boyfriend suddenly seems like a good plan, too.

  Of course, we only get about fifteen minutes into the movie before Marco passes out cold. Which was part of my plan in the first place, truth be told.

  I press a soft kiss to Marco’s dark hair, and Finn doesn’t hesitate to ease him into his arms and they head down the hall to the bedrooms. All-in-all? I bite my lip. Yeah. It’s pretty adorable.

  Finn kicks open Marco’s door — which is pretty obvious since it’s adorned with his name — and strides over to his bed, gently gently lowering my sleeping boy onto the duvet. He wraps the blankets around him and kisses him again, and this time, I actually have to wipe away the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

  Fuck, this is embarrassing. But what can I say? Finn’s an absolute natural with him…

  We tiptoe to the door and pull it closed behind us, and I grab Finn’s hand, leading him into my room — the one directly next door. He smirks at me as we share the same thought: We’re going to have to be very, very quiet…

  As soon as we step inside and ensure that my door is fully closed, though, I know I can’t wait another second. It already feels like an eternity since I’ve felt him pressed up against me. He seems to be of a similar mind, because he clutches me in his large hands as I lean into him, our mouths hot and insistent.

  I wonder, if a second, if it’s weird that I’m a little turned on by the fact that he just put my kid to bed… but then he thrusts his hardening cock against me, and I stop wondering about too much at all.

  I pepper kisses along his jaw, nibbling lightly at his Adam’s apple, and he’s just wrapping his hands around my ass, just about to scoop me into his arms, when I get an idea.

  I know he’d fucked me against the door earlier — but that had been a one-off thing, right? Surely, he must understand…

  I take a few steps forward and shove him against my bed, hoping that helps him get the picture. He gives me a quizzical look, but doesn’t question it. Good. It seems he’s learned by now. Finn sinks down onto the mattress at my request, and I hear the backs of his knees hit my comforter with a soft hiss.

  The lighting in my room is soft, gentle, but it’s perfect for what I want to attempt… absolutely perfect. I saunter to my desk chair on the side of the room and flip my chair around to straddle it.

  I’m going to try something I’ve always wanted to do… something that will make me happy; I know it will be well-received, that I’ll finally be doing it with someone who loves my body and cares about me.

  Without giving it a second thought, I stare Finn dead in the eyes and remove my shirt from over my head. Even though he’s seen my breasts several times by now, his eyes fixate on them as the shirt ripples across my cleavage. I arch my back, caressing, massaging them in front of him before finally reaching behind to unclasp my bra.

  The lacy garment flutters to the ground and my large breasts sway free, hanging over my belly. Finn lets out a low moan from deep in his throat, and glance over to see that his right hand is almost absentmindedly caressing the seam of his jeans.

  I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it, really— he’s just so focused on my tits that it’s all he can do to relieve the pressure, entirely trapped under my spell.

  Yes. That’s where I want him.

  I move to stand and unbutton my jeans, shimmying them down my thighs. I’ve called them every variation of unsexy for most of my life — thunder thighs. Love handles. Cellulite sites.

  But the way Finn is staring at my exposed lower half doesn’t make me feel disgusting or unloved… not at all. In fact, my curves make me feel more wanted, make me even more desirable. I step out of my underwear, too, and I’m a little surprised that its kept up this long. After all, I’ve been very, very aroused today.

  It’s about then I realize I’m standing in front of him, completely naked. This is a new experience, because for the first time, I’m bare, exposed… and honestly more confident than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  In that instant, I know I’m hooked.

  I’m addicted to that feeling, to the way Finn wants me, to the way I feel empowered. He sees my curves and flab and stretch marks, but he doesn’t mind, not at all. In fact, he’s still grabbing himself through his pants, his hands making rhythmic motions, and I can tell he’s just as entranced as I am.

  But I’m not done playing — not even close.

  I straddle the chair again, facing him directly.

  “Finn,” I emphasize, reaching down to cup one of my breasts. He arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t say a word. Yes. He knows me very well…

  I toss my head back and begin rubbing my breast again. “Have you ever watched
a woman touch herself?” I love that my voice has this low, husky sort of quality I hadn’t noticed before.

  Finn’s head perks up in interest. “No,” he admits, swallowing. “But… I’d like to.”

  I snort, but don’t bother telling him that I’ve never done this, either. Not in front of anyone else.

  “Well, you’re going to,” I pronounce, shifting against the seat. “You’re going to watch me. And you’re not going to come until I do.” I snap my eyes back to his. “Is that clear?”

  He makes a kind of frustrated moan, but does nothing to object, just as I knew he wouldn’t.

  One of my hands remains on my breast, and the other works its way down between my parted thighs. I begin thrusting my fingers in and out of my sopping folds in earnest, not bothering to muffle my moans. I say a silent prayer of thanks that Marco is a heavy sleeper.

  As soon as I begin to caress my clit, I hear his jeans unzip as his belt clatters to the floor.

  “Please,” he pants, and I crack open an eyelid to see that a huge, throbbing erection has sprung up. He’s clenching his fists at his size as he watches me, mesmerized. I decide that I’ve tortured him enough, and with the briefest nod — ok — his right hand descends on his cock, a string of relieved curses falling from his lips.

  I make a big show of swirling and dipping my fingers inside my dripping pussy, removing just enough moisture to provide the perfect friction against my clit. Soon, my hips begin pumping against my fingers, my breath coming in short gasps, and I know it’s the thrill of being watched — of being lusted after and admired — that has gotten me this close to the edge this quickly.

  Finn’s breathing is labored, too; he’s beginning to make deeper and deeper groans, and I know we’re both close, so close, that it wouldn’t take much.

  “Finn,” I moan, throwing my head back. “Come for me.”

  As soon as the words leave my lips, I begin to clench and pound around my fingers, thrusting my hips up and down to ride out my orgasm. I hear Finn’s muffled cry from across the bedroom, and I glance in his direction as soon as the ripples of my release have passed through me.