Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“You feel so good, baby,” she whispers.
Sensation, searing and hot, rips through my center. The white light returns. I squeeze my eyes shut and surrender, the pressure in my balls releasing in a series of agonizing pulses. It feels like falling off a bike or a skateboard, the pavement rising up to meet me before I slam into it in a burning collision of skin and blood and bone.
I black out. For a second, an hour, a year, I have no fucking clue. All I know is when I come to, Wheeler’s got my hands in hers, our fingers twined over her belly.
My heart thunders. The baby.
Our baby.
I’m gripped by that fierceness again.
I think I wanna have this kid. And if we have it, there’s no way I’m letting another man raise her.
No way I’m letting another man touch Wheeler the way I’m touching her right now.
These girls—I’m still assuming we’ll have a daughter—are mine. Maybe staking my claim makes me a caveman, but I don’t give a fuck. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I wasn’t there for them. Knowing I didn’t work my fingers to the bone to make them happy.
Take care of them the way they deserve to be cared for.
So I care for Wheeler the only way I know how—with everything I’ve got. I turn off the water. I help her gently to her feet. She wobbles, still orgasm-drunk, and her arms fly out in a desperate bid for balance.
“I got you.” I keep my hands placed firmly on her waist. Pressing my front to her back, I use the bulk of my body to nudge her out of the shower. I grab a clean towel off a nearby shelf and wrap her in it. She shivers when I press a kiss to her nape.
“Cold?” I ask.
She glances at me over her shoulder. “Overwhelmed.”
My chest cramps. Grabbing another towel, I make quick work of drying myself off, then wrap it around my waist.
Wheeler looks at me in the mirror above the vanity, its corners fogged over from the heat of the shower.
Her lips are swollen, eyes hazy as they rake over my bare shoulders and chest. “You’re the pretty one.”
“Glad you think so. You can admire me all you want when we’re in bed.” Bending down, I scoop her up into my arms. “Preferably with your hands.”
Her lips curl into a small smile. She reaches up to play with a tendril of my hair as I walk the three steps to my bedroom. “What about dinner?”
“What about it? Thought I’d have you.”
“Ha.”
“Ain’t gonna be funny when you’re begging me to let you come again.”
I set her on her feet, and before I know what’s happening, she’s letting the towel fall to the floor and she’s stepping into me, pressing her tits against my chest at the same time as she wraps her arms around my neck.
Looking down at her, it strikes me how happy she looks. Tired, sure. But her brown eyes are bright, the tears gone, and her skin is flush with color.
“I don’t need your permission.” Her eyes glide to my mouth.
I smirk. “But you do want my help.”
She bites her lip. “I kinda do. I haven’t been feeling my best lately, but you…” Her eyes flick to meet mine. “You really do make me feel beautiful and sexy, even though I’m bloated and sick and my body is—”
“Sensitive.” I reach up to cup her breast, and her breath catches. “I know that’s not always a good thing, but it is right now. So lemme make you feel good, Wheeler. I’ll feed you. Then I’ll fuck you. Rinse and repeat as many times as you want. ’Cause you’re outta your mind if you think I’m letting you out of my sight tonight. Or my bed.”
She blinks, expression softening. “I can’t make any promises, Duke.”
“I’m not asking you to. Tonight, all I want is your company. We’ll talk about the rest tomorrow.”
“Sounds too easy.”
“Surely you know that I’m too easy when it comes to you.”
She laughs, scrunching her brow. “I’m not sure that makes much sense—”
“Does it have to make sense if it feels this good?” I swallow. “Because you gotta admit, this feels really fucking good right now, sweetheart.”
She cups my face in her hand. The tenderness of the gesture makes my stomach flip. “It does. I don’t want it to end.”
“Doesn’t have to.”
She searches my eyes. “I love what an optimist you are.”
“Try it on. Optimism. Bet it’ll fit you just fine.”
She grins. “It doesn’t come naturally to me. But I’ll try.”
“Good.” I shape her waist with my hands, and she lets out a happy little yell when I toss her onto the bed. “You sleep here on one condition.”
“Name it.”
Aw, yeah, she wants to sleep beside me as much as I wanna sleep beside her.