Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Balto moved me onto my bed and held himself on top of me. He already knew how he wanted to take me because he pinned his arms behind my knees and parted me wide. My belly was against him, but it wasn’t big enough to make this angle impossible. He pointed his head toward me then slid deep inside, pushing through my wet tightness. He closed his eyes and groaned as his dick became saturated with my slickness. “Jesus Fucking Christ.” He stopped when he was balls deep.
My hands slid against his chest, and I rolled my head back in joy. It felt so good to feel him inside me once again, to love the father of my child, to love the man who loved me in return.
He thrust three times before he came, releasing a mound of come inside me that wouldn’t fit. He moaned loudly as he reached his threshold so quickly, his face turning red with desire.
It always turned me on when I felt this man come inside me. It made me feel owned, made me feel sexy. Watching this man crumble apart for me showed me how much he wanted me, that he’d really been alone for the last three months.
He finished, but his cock never softened. He looked into my eyes without apology, not feeling ashamed for lasting five seconds. “Three months is a long time, baby.” He started to thrust again, moving through his come.
I cupped his cheek and felt my climax rise to the surface as he made love to me. “You know I love feeling your come inside me. You know it gets me off.”
“Then you’re going to get off a lot tonight.”
31
Balto
When I woke up that morning, I was a new man.
I wasn’t the ruthless Skull King anymore. I wasn’t the man who crushed the skulls of my enemies. I wasn’t the man who collected taxes from the criminals I ruled.
Now I was just a man.
A man with a woman.
Not just any ordinary woman. But my woman.
I spooned her from behind with my arm just above her stomach. My chest was pressed against her small back, and every time I breathed, she breathed too. When I woke up, my hand moved to her stomach, and I felt the sign of life underneath my fingertips. My fingers brushed over her soft skin, unable to believe we’d made this little person together. I never asked her how it happened because it didn’t seem to matter. Women got pregnant from sex—and we had a lot of sex.
My face rested against her soft hair, smelling the scent of her shampoo and perfume mixed together. I hadn’t woken up like this in three months, sexually satisfied with my woman beside me.
It nearly felt like a dream.
I wanted to wake her up so I could fuck her again. All the rounds we enjoyed last night simply weren’t enough. I never knew how sexy a pregnant woman could be. The second she told me the baby was mine, I was so hard, I thought my dick would rip through my jeans. All her curves drove me crazy. The way her stomach made her waddle was sexy. Knowing she was so uncomfortable because I’d made her that way turned me on for inexplicable reasons.
I’d never wanted kids, but I was so relieved when she told me the baby was mine.
That meant I would be a father. That meant I would have to raise a son to be a man or raise a daughter to be a lady—who could fight like a man. I would spend my days in a house somewhere, having more children with her in peace and quiet. It had sounded boring at first, but now I was grateful I got to experience it.
Money stopped being important. My ambition completely dried up. There was no more blood lust either, not with Lucian gone. Everything else seemed pointless, especially when I stopped caring.
The only thing I cared about was there with me.
My woman and my baby.
I let her sleep because I knew she needed to rest. Otherwise, I would roll her over and fuck her whether she was ready for it or not. I slipped out of bed and made my way down the hallway. I didn’t have any clothes there, so I pulled on my boxers and stepped into the other bedroom.
It was the baby’s room.
With a wooden crib in the center and a dresser stacked with diapers, it was the place where she’d imagined raising this kid on her own. There was a box of toys in the corner, and the drawers were filled with baby clothes, unisex outfits with tiny socks.
Standing in that room made me realize how real this was.
In three months, I would be a father.
I heard her footsteps a second later. Practically running, she headed to the bathroom and opened the toilet lid. Then I heard her vomit.