Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology 2)

Bang!

‘Yes!’ she cries, the word literally hammered out of her.

My cheeks puff out, the tip of my cock starting to spasm in preparation, every drop of blood rushing to my head. I’m going to come, and the power of it is going to make me collapse. Or pass out completely.

‘Becker!’

‘Hold on,’ I shout, jacking her onto me, causing her hands to slip from the car. My stone dick starts swelling, pushing further into her soft, convulsing walls, sending me over the edge. She flips out, throwing her head back, screaming an insane torrent of nonsense into thin air. And then I literally feel her shatter, her body going slack, making it impossible to keep herself up any longer. ‘Motherfucker,’ I choke, coiling my arm around her waist to keep her in place. With one last mind-boggling plunge, I gasp, pushing my hips upward and releasing everything I have in consistent, steady pulses. I moan, groan and curse as I stagger back, taking her with me, literally crumbling to the floor, catching Eleanor as she comes down. I’m fucked, gasping for oxygen, my cock throbbing uncontrollably with the aftermath. I give into my heavy lids and close my eyes, her wet dress-covered back stuck to my chest and the back of her head falling onto my shoulder.

I sigh my satisfaction, letting my hands creep around her tummy and lock down, keeping her secure to me. The pounding blood in my ears is joined by the sound of Eleanor panting. It’s the sweetest sound, and I nuzzle into her ear, nipping at her lobe. She exhales happily and grumbles her protest when I break away. ‘Bed,’ I order as I drag myself to my feet, smiling at her slighted face when I fasten my fly. Without another word, I bend, gather her into my arms, and stride out of the garage with my wife draped across my arms. Her head settles on my shoulder, and I look down at her glowing face.

‘Do you think you can stand?’

‘No,’ she answers quickly. ‘Why? Is my arse getting too heavy these days?’

‘Your arse is just perfect.’ Let’s get that straight before she takes it away from me. ‘Leave my arse alone.’

‘It might grow even bigger soon,’ she whispers quietly.

I pull to a halt, my eyes shooting down to hers. I find her grinning. ‘Are you playing with me? Please don’t play with me.’

‘I did a test this morning.’

And just when I thought I couldn’t be any happier. I exhale and sink my face into her hair. ‘How many weeks?’

‘Just twelve.’

‘God, woman, you make me so happy.’

‘Me or my ever-increasing arse?’

‘You. Your arse is just a bonus.’ But the sight of it when Eleanor was at full term with George is suddenly riddling my mind. I grin into her neck. ‘I can’t fucking wait. But I wanted to be there when you did the test.’

‘I wasn’t certain. And I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I know how much you loved my massive arse when I was expecting.’

‘Not massive. Perfect.’

‘Yes, because there’s more area for you to slap stu—’ Eleanor’s head shoots up. ‘Was that Clementine?’

‘What?’ Just as I ask, I hear another whimper.

‘That.’ Eleanor is out of my arms in a flash, picking the bottom of her dress up and running out of the garage.

I grab the baby monitor and slip on my glasses as I follow, a little less urgently than Eleanor.

‘I’m coming,’ she yells. ‘Where’s Mrs Potts?’

‘So she can use her feet for her dog?’ I grumble. But I’m still grinning. Boobs, belly and arse. I wish she could be permanently pregnant.

Mrs Potts appears from the spare room, as if by magic, rollers in her hair, a floral nighty drowning her short, plump body. ‘Is it time?’

‘You’d better get the blankets.’ I push my way into the kitchen and find Eleanor crouched by the dog bed, her dress a mass of bunched-up satin puddled on the kitchen floor. She has Clementine’s jowls in one palm, her hand tenderly stroking her head with the other while Winston circles close by. ‘Well?’ I ask, joining her and trying to settle Winston.

‘She’s in labour,’ Eleanor says without looking at me. ‘It could be a long night.’

‘To go with a long day.’ I sigh, just as Mrs Potts bursts through the door with arms full of blankets.

‘I’m here!’ She wobbles over and dumps the pile next to the dog bed, assessing Clementine. ‘Look at that face,’ she says happily. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to have The Haven full of puppies.’

I take Winston by the collar. ‘C’mon, boy. Let’s leave the ladies to do their thing.’ I gently coax him towards the door, looking back as I go on a smile. A wife, two kids, two bulldogs and puppies to boot. Fucking crazy.

Winston grumbles a little as I lead him to my office. ‘You’ll just worry more,’ I tell him. ‘It’s not pretty. Best to try and relax a little. Get some rest. She’ll need you soon, you know.’ I push the door to my office open and usher him inside, and he looks up at me and barks in agreement, ambling over to the chair and jumping on. He curls up as I sit the baby monitor on the drinks cabinet and pour myself a Haig, taking a quick swig before placing it on my desk and wandering to the foot of my bookcase. Scanning the shelf before me, I locate the book I need and tilt it, standing back as the shelf creeps open, revealing my safe. I bend a little at the waist, presenting my eye to the scanner before twiddling the dial the few times needed and getting the key from my pocket. I slip it in the lock and turn, getting my usual thrill from the clicking that indicates the release of the locks. My tummy actually flutters. It never gets old.