Pulling her back up, I look her hard in the eyes. “You could’ve had a say in these things if you hadn’t put yourself in the position you did. I told you once, be a good girl and I would keep you safe. I’ve kept my word on that. I will never allow you to be hurt again. Not by anyone. You’re fucking mine. Do we need a reminder of that?”
Shaking her head, she doesn’t speak. I don’t know if it’s the spanking or the vehemence in my voice… It’s probably a mixture of them both leaving her mute as she stares at me.
Leaning in, I rest my forehead against hers. “You need to give up the silly notion you’re not pregnant. It’s a fact.”
She shakes her head again and turns away from me. “How can you be so certain?”
“Because, like that night in the limo when I chose to take you as mine, I know that you’re pregnant. I know it in here,” I say pointing to my chest.
It’s a bold statement, but it’s true. Pressing my lips against hers, I hold her to me. I won’t stop until she’s panting.
Her hands push at me as always. Always fighting my little angel is. Always fighting the demon whose stolen her.
Slowly those soft lips of hers part and her breath comes out in short little bursts as my tongue skims across her own. Melting in my arms, she allows me to pull her tight to my body.
When we finally stop, I force myself to not push her over the engine hood again. Force myself to not thrust my cock into her achingly tight pussy.
Rolling my shoulders, I step back and smile. “That’s the angel I know. Now let’s look at your new car.”
She shakes her head and says, “It’s way too much, Andrew…”
I growl at her and resist the urge to spank her again. “No, it’s not. This is for your safety and I won’t skimp on that. This car is armored against most bullets. I want you three as safe as possible when you start driving Abigail to school.”
She nods her head hesitantly and squeezes my hand. Then her trembling fingers take the key fob I hold out to her.
I nudge her towards the shiny silver S550 Benz.
She looks at the car, then back at me like she just can’t believe it. I nod at her and keep nudging her.
After sliding behind the wheel and getting comfortable, she finally cracks a smile.
That smile fills my chest with warmth.
I’m happy with my life, I think, and that worries the fuck out me.
18
Amy
Is it possible to fall in love with someone just because they fuck you a lot? Because if it is, then I’m totally fucked.
No pun intended.
These past few weeks it feels like that’s all Andrew and I have done. We take care of Abigail, get her off to school, then start fucking.
On the kitchen counter. In the backseat of the car.
Up against the wall in the garage.
We’ve even snuck in a few quickies in the houses we’ve been looking at.
You’d think by now we’d start to get tired of each other, that we’d get our fill. But this lust, this craving I have for Andrew only seems to be getting worse. The sickness inside of me is spreading.
It’s no longer a simple matter of just giving into the attraction growing between us.
It’s turning into a real need.
I need to have him inside me. I need to feel his skin against my skin. To feel his teeth sinking into my neck, marking me.
On a daily basis.
There’s a safety in being his. There’s a rightness to it.
And it’s terrifying.
I can’t rely on him, I can’t… To do so would be giving up, and I’m not ready to give up yet. There’s still a chance that Abigail and I can get away from all this madness. From these men who rule the world with their money and viciousness.
There’s still a chance I’m not pregnant.
“What are you doing?” I ask Lily.
She’s scrunching up her face and squinting her eyes at me.
I walked into her room a moment ago but I know she’s been expecting me. We planned this days ago.
“I’m trying to tell if you’re pregnant.”
“You look like you’re constipated and trying to take a shit,” I tell her.
She tips her head back and laughs. And nearly tumbles off her bed. I quickly grab her, tugging her back up, and she instantly sobers.
“Why were you looking at me like that?” I ask once she’s got her balance back.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she says, “I was trying to open my third eye.”
“Huh?” I frown at her, still not getting it.
She sighs and leans away. “This old Japanese guy once told me you could tell a lot about someone if you looked closely enough.”