by Gemma Weir
My mind goes to the pills in the bathroom cabinet and the fact that I’ve been feeding her the sugar pills every day for the last week. She has no idea she could already be pregnant, and after the conversation we had today about her not wanting to start a family yet, I’m sure she’s going to be plenty angry with me if she finds out what I’ve done. But I want to breed her and make her unrefutably mine more than anything, so I’ll take her anger when it comes.
Today was the last sugar pill in the packet and until we packed up her stuff from her apartment, I wasn’t sure how I was going to stop her from taking the real pills. But then I remembered the first packet I stole from her and saw the extra three packets she had in her medicine box in the kitchen, now I just have to hope that I can manage to get her pregnant before she figures out what I’ve done.
The next month is blissful. Living with Cora is better than I imagined and I’ve never been happier in my entire life. Just like I knew they would, my brothers have adopted Cora just like they did Bonnie and now they have two little sisters to tease and torment. The girls love living under the same roof and things in casa de Barnett are pretty damn blissful.
Grabbing her hips, I help her ride me, her tits bouncing as she grinds up and down on my dick, her hair a glorious mess, her head tipped back, her lips parted as she teeters on the edge of release. The more times I slide my dick into her perfect cunt, the more I want her, and I doubt I’ll ever get tired of watching myself slide into her wet heat.
“I love it like this,” she gasps, her hands covering mine as she grinds her hips, rising and falling as her pussy strangles my dick, the plug she loves so much buried deep in her ass and rubbing against my dick as she fucks me.
I growl, lifting my hips to meet her thrusts and watching as she explodes, a long, low moan falling from her parted lips. I follow her over the edge, my balls tightening before I come inside of her, filling her with my seed and silently praying that it takes root.
It’s been five weeks since the first time we had unprotected sex, since the first time I stole her contraceptive pills and started switching them with the sugar pills they provide in the pack, so women can still take a pill everyday even while they’re on their period.
She hasn’t bled yet, but I don’t know if that’s normal for her and I can’t ask without explaining that I’ve been trying my hardest to get her bred with my kid. We have a lot of sex, at least once a day most days, sometimes more, so if she’s not pregnant it’s not through lack of filling her with my cum.
I know she’s going to hate me when she finds out what I’ve done, but this need I have for her, to own her heart, body, soul and tie her to me through a baby that would be half me, half her is all consuming.
With each day that passes when she doesn’t get her period, the guilt is starting to creep in. She knows I’m crazy about her though. I’ve done plenty to piss her off in the last month, including throwing out some of her clothes because she was too sexy for anyone but me to see her in them and following her out on girls’ night, just like I was calling Beau a creeper for doing to Bonnie. But I can’t and won’t stop, because she is everything to me.
I love her, but more than that, I’m obsessed with her. When I’m not with her I worry about her, when she’s alone I panic that someone might try to take her from me. She’s so beautiful that it’s impossible others won’t notice and even though I trust her implicitly, I don’t trust anyone with a dick, apart from my family and hers around her.
She says I’m crazy, that I smother her… and I do, but it’s the only way I can stop myself from kidnapping her to run away to my cabin where there’s no one around for miles and I can keep her just for myself. I want the ring I picked out for her on her finger, I want her to have my last name, I want to own her.
Her eyes flutter open and she looks down at me, a soft smile gracing her full kiss swollen lips. “We’re gonna be late,” she laughs.
I shrug. “I don’t care.”
“We have to stop having sex before work, I’ve been late opening the shop almost every day since I moved in.”
“Quit your job, I’ve got plenty of money, then only one of us will be late for work after we fuck in the mornings.”
Slapping her palm against my stomach she lifts herself off my dick, and I feel the trickle of my cum leaking out of her. When she tries to climb off the bed, I grab her, turning her onto her back and kissing her while I use my fingers to push my cum back into her. I started doing this because I wanted her pregnant, but now I just love watching her face as I territorially force her body to accept all I’ve given her.
No matter how hard she argues that she hates my overbearing behavior, she loves it just as much. Her eyes heat and her cunt drips when I wrap my fingers around her throat and ask her who she belongs to.
She wears clothes to drive me wild so I’ll get jealous and finger fuck her under the table when we’re out for dinner. She taunts me with pictures of the plugs we both love so much and dirty texts about how she’d played with my pussy in the bathrooms of the store. Our life together is a rollercoaster of highs followed by more highs and I hope we never have to feel the force of a fall to the ground that will shatter our bubble of happiness, but I can almost feel it coming.
The more I worry and stress about her finding out I’ve been trying to get her pregnant, the more jealous and possessive I become. If I could, I’d keep her here in our room all the time, never sharing her with anyone, locked in a gilded cage of our creation.
“Roll over, baby, let me take the plug out, unless you want to wear it today?”
That first time we played with the butt plug she had in her box of sex toys I wasn’t expecting her to like it, but she did, and now we have a collection of plugs that we play with regularly. I haven’t claimed her ass yet, but she’s ready and my dick is aching to claim her virgin hole.
Flipping onto her stomach, she spreads her legs and I see the pink jeweled plug parting her perfect cheeks. “Fuck, I love seeing that,” I growl, taking hold of the plug and teasing her ass with it, pulling it out a little before sliding it back in, slowly fucking her with the metal plug that’s stretching her and preparing her to take my cock all the way inside her unused hole.
“Huck,” she moans, spreading her legs a little wider as I caress her cheek with one hand and play with the plug with the other.
“Ask me to fuck your ass with the plug until you come, Peaches,” I growl.
“We need to get up.”
“Ask me, baby, we both know you need it. You’ll be needy all day if you don’t get to come like this with your legs spread wide begging me to play with your ass and make you scream.”
I can see the wetness seeping from her pussy just from my words, dirty talk is a major turn on for Cora and I love telling her all the filthy things I want to do to her.
“Please,” she whines.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck my ass with the plug until I come,” she begs, wiggling her hips needily.
Sliding a finger across her clit, I circle it as I slowly work the plug almost all the way out of her, then push it roughly back in, rubbing at her clit as I pull the plug out again, then slide it back in. When I pull it all the way out, then force it back inside of her, her hips lift from the bed and a wanton moan falls from her lips as she pushes back against my touch, wanting more. I play with her more earnestly until I’m fucking her ass with the plug while my finger pinches her clit. When she comes, her whole body tenses, her legs twitching as the orgasm washes over her in a wave of pleasure until she finally collapses, a panting, breathy mess.
Pulling the plug free of her body, I side three fingers into her instead, pumping in and out of her slowly, feeling the way her pussy is clenching on nothing as the aftershocks from her orgasm ricochets through her sated body.
“Who does this ass belong to?”
“You,” she pants.
“I can’t wait to watch your ass take my dick, and feel the tightness of your virg
in hole gripping me.”
“Too big,” she mumbles.
She wants to try anal; she loves me playing with her ass, but she’s worried my dick is too thick and it’ll hurt her. “You can take me, Peaches, you want me to fuck your ass, don’t you?”
She nods, but I want to hear the words.
“Tell me.”
“I want you to fuck my ass.” She tilts her head and glances back at me over her shoulder, her eyes hooded and sleepy and the urge to just run away with her is stronger than ever.
Sighing, I slap her ass and reluctantly pull away from her. “Come on, baby, you’re gonna make us late again.”
Glaring at me, she flips me the bird as I pad into the bathroom and grab a washcloth to clean her up with. I know she’d rather shower, but we don’t have time for that and I like her to smell like me when she’s away from me all day.
She doesn’t move when I spread her legs, letting me clean her pussy and ass, removing all of the cum and lube from her before I lean down and bite her perky butt that’s on display and begging for me to sink my teeth into it.
She shrieks, reaching back to slap me as I jump off the bed and dash to the bathroom. After dumping the washcloth into the hamper, I open the medicine cabinet, pop out a sugar pill and take it and a glass of water into the bedroom. She’s no longer spread eagled on the bed, instead she’s sitting on the edge, pulling on peach colored silk panties, the matching bra on the comforter beside her.
Handing her the pill, she smiles at me, taking it from me with all the trust in the world, and my stomach feels like lead as I watch her swallow it down and hand the glass back to me. I want to confess, to ask her if she could be pregnant with my baby, but instead of speaking, I swallow down the words and then go back into the bathroom and pretend I haven’t potentially altered the course of both of our lives just because I’m desperate to make sure she can never get away from me.
17
Cora
It’s my day off and I’m home alone. The Barnett house is rarely empty, so instead of going out with friends or shopping, I plan to stay home and make the most of the peace and quiet.
Living with eight other people is easier than I expected, all the chores are distributed equally between us all, even though all the guys protested when Bonnie and I insisted on being added into the chores’ rotation. We all eat together on an evening unless we have plans and someone always makes breakfast and brown bagged lunches for us all whenever we’re at work. There’s even a bagged lunch on Saturdays and Sundays for Bonnie and I if we have to work when the guys usually have weekends off.
Sometimes we hang out together at the house as a family, sometimes we go axe throwing, or down to the bar. Sometimes we’re all together, sometimes it’s just a few of us and sometimes Huck and I disappear together not wanting to share the other with the world.
My life is awesome.
After the showdown at my parents’ house, Mitchell turned up again the following Friday and Huck completely lost his shit, literally kicking my ex out of the house while the rest of us watched. My brother has finally realized that he caused most of these problems, and after apologizing to me he warned Mitchell that his behavior was starting to become harassment and if he turned up again, he’d have no problem arresting him and taking him to the sheriff’s office to be charged. That was three weeks ago, and thankfully the last time I saw him. Huck’s still pretty pissed at Cam, but I’m sure they’ll eventually learn to tolerate each other or maybe even be friends.
Despite my mom’s initial reservations, she is now firmly team Huck. I swear she sighs every time he kisses me and wedding magazines keep appearing in her kitchen whenever we’re over there for dinner.
I’m happy, blissfully so, and it’s so good I feel like I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, like nothing can be this good and not be offset with something going wrong. When the door opens, I look up from my spot on the couch, not sure who would be coming home in the middle of the day.
Bonnie steps through the door, looking windswept, her cheeks pink from the cool air that’s blustering across the mountain.
“Hey,” Bonnie says when she spots me.
“Hey, I thought you were working on the ranch today?”
“I’m supposed to be, but Dad sent me home after I threatened to castrate Caleb.”
“What is your brother’s problem?”
“He’s an asshole who takes joy in pissing me off,” she scowls. “But I have cramps and his attitude just pushed me over the edge, and so here I am. I’m gonna go take a bath and then get into my pj’s. Wanna watch that new romcom film on Netflix when I’m done?”
“Sure,” I nod, but I’m barely paying her any attention as my mind spins at a thousand miles an hour. How long have I been living here? I know it’s over a month and the last time I got my period was while I was living in my apartment, before I got together with Huck.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, my hand shaking as I cover my mouth, grabbing for my cell and clicking into my fitness app that tracks my periods. I’m late, really late, so late that I can’t pretend this is just a glitch in the matrix, the kind of late that only means one thing.
But how is this possible? I’m on the pill, I take it religiously, I even take the sugar pills in the packet for the days when you’re on your period so I never get out of the habit of taking it. I mean I know it’s not one hundred percent guaranteed, but how have I become that one percent?
Standing on shaky legs, I make my way into our room and to the bathroom. Since Huck and I got together he’s been amazing at making sure I remember to always take my birth control, he brings me the pill at the same time every morning, how could this have happened?
Opening the medicine cabinet, I spot the box with my pill packets in it and lift it out, needing to prove to myself that I’ve been taking them, even though I know I haven’t missed a day. I open the box, and I’m surprised to find there’s five packets inside, not the one I usually keep in there. Taking them out one by one, I look at the tiny foil packets, then at the seven pills gone from each of the five packets, the rest of the tablets still perfectly sealed inside.
Five lots of seven, five weeks’ worth of pills hand delivered by my sweet, cautious, attentive boyfriend. Five weeks’ worth of sugar tablets containing nothing more than powder and sugar coating with absolutely no contraception drug inside.
My breath shudders as I take in the reality of the situation. For the last five weeks, Huck has been deliberately giving me the fake tablets, this wasn’t a mistake where he just popped a pill out of packet without looking at it. This was intentional.
We’ve had sex more times than I can remember since we got together and after that very first time, he refused to wear a condom. God, he even told me he’d love for me to get pregnant and I laughed it off.
I’m an idiot.
I trusted him and he deliberately did this.
I trusted him and he was plotting to get me pregnant.
I trusted him and he’s been lying to me every day since the day he barged his way into my apartment and my life.
My legs go weak and I slide to the floor, my eyes dry, even though I can feel the tears begging to be shed. I’m more than likely pregnant. Twenty-one and pregnant to the man I love, who apparently I don’t know at all. Why would he do this? We talked about having kids, but not now, not when only one of us made the decision.
I feel myself shutting down, but I don’t know what to do to stop it. My brain is telling me to confront him, to ask him why he would do this to me, why he would selfishly ruin our relationship. But my heart is telling me to hide, to run and hide and shield myself from his betrayal, because if I don’t deal with it, it doesn’t have to be true.
I’m not sure how long I sit on the bathroom floor, my eyes dry and gritty from unshed tears, my heart breaking in two as I try to process what he’s done. I’ve never experienced this level of fear before, I’ve never even had a pregnancy scare and now here I am, probably growin
g a baby inside of me and I don’t know what to do. The rational part of my brain is telling me I need to get a test, to find out if he succeeded, but my heart and the irrational side of my psyche is telling me to just pretend none of this is happening, to go back to loving him and trusting him and being happy with him.
Hearing Bonnie calling my name, I force my limbs to move, to accept the messages my brain is sending them, and to lift and bend until I’m upright and wondering how in the blink of an eye everything that was so right in my life this morning… is so catastrophically ruined by lunchtime.
I avoid looking at myself in the mirror as I splash water on my face and try to wash the despair from my expression. Each step feels devastating, but I keep moving forward, turning the handle to our bedroom and stepping into the living space where Bonnie is blustering around the kitchen, making herself a drink.
“Hey, you want a coffee? I’ve only had two cups this morning,” she asks, not looking in my direction.
“No, err… I know you wanted to veg and watch Netflix but is there any chance you could run me into town? I can get my mom to bring me back later.”
“Of course, I’ll just drop you off if that’s okay, Beau’s been bugging me for months to quit my job at the coffee shop and go work with him. I’m not going to, but maybe if I go up there this afternoon it might shut him up, at least for a while.” She laughs happily.
I try to look and act normal, but I know I’m failing miserably. Forcing a smile to my lips, I laugh along with her, but it sounds hollow and forced.
“Thanks, I’ll go grab my purse,” I say, turning away to try to hide my turmoil from her. I don’t want her to look at me and then ask questions that I just don’t have the answers to right now. Because if I have to talk about it, if I have to admit what he’s done to us, then I’ll fall apart and if I’m going to crumble, I don’t want it to be half way up a mountain with no way of leaving.