Forbidden Baby Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lara Swann

  She moans, arching up against me and kissing me hard, with all the passion that’s built up over the last few days - and the feelings that have built up over so much longer.

  “Ash…” She moans. “Ash…I want you…I need…”

  I know exactly what she needs, and I cover her mouth with my own, kissing her deeply before I start shifting further back on the couch, sliding down her body and kissing bare skin as I lift the blouse over her head. It’s not meant to be taken off that way - there are buttons for a reason - but she shimmies out of it anyway, and then it’s just her beautiful, soft skin and that pale blue bra. It’s got a nice lace, this one, with black edging highlighting it and a little bow in the clasp between her breasts. I’ve enjoyed watching as she’s experimented with these things - some of her underwear gradually getting more decorative and fun - and I can’t help wondering just how far that will go.

  Compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with, she’s still heavily on the sweet end of the spectrum, but I haven’t gotten tired of that at all. It’s still as wonderful and refreshing as it’s ever been - and teaching her a few things…well…that’s been fucking mind-blowing.

  She wriggles under me, impatient for my touch - and so much else - and I grin up at her as my mouth descends, kissing and nibbling at her soft skin, my hands disappearing around her back to unhook the clasp of her bra. It’s nice - but her bare breasts are so much nicer - and I groan the moment I have them in my hands, squeezing and caressing as I start sucking on her hard nipples. She moans in tandem, bucking up into me and clutching at my head the way she does when she really loves what I’m doing to her.

  It’s been too long. It’s only been five fucking days, but that’s still far too long.

  I step up my attentions as I dig my hands into the waistband of her skirt, starting to tug it down - making sure I hook my fingers to take her panties with it. There are plenty of days when I like to take my time, removing one piece of clothing at a time as I tease her to ever greater heights, but today I just want her. I want to feel her tight pussy around my cock as I revel in every part of that connection.

  From the way she eagerly wriggles, helping me and kicking her clothes to the floor, I know she’s craving the exact same thing. She pulls at my t-shirt, and I get the hint, ripping it off while barely pausing in the attention I’m paying her now naked body. She draws me back up toward her, taking my mouth in hers and kissing deeply as my hands glide over her breasts, stroking and teasing in all the best ways. I roll her nipples between my fingers and watch the pleasure flash across her eyes as she gasps, arching her chest up into my touch as we move together on the couch, kissing and touching everywhere we can, making out as desperately as two teenagers in a darkened car.

  She reaches for my belt, undoing it in the way she’s become practiced at these last couple of months - and then she’s slipping my pants down too, my hard cock springing out with a relief that makes me groan. It’s already thick and pulsing for her, eagerly anticipating what I’ve been waiting far too long for - and as her hand reaches down to stroke me, she moans as she feels it.

  Her touch is perfect - firm and soft in all the right ways, sliding down my thick shaft and caressing my oh-so-sensitive balls before tugging up again, making me groan with need. I can only take it for a few moments before I’m pressing her back down into the couch, positioning myself above her so I can finally feel all of her. She locks eyes with me as I do, her breathing fast and shallow as she clutches at my shoulders, wriggling her hips and urging me on.

  “Please…Ash…” She moans, pulling my head down to kiss her again and nipping at my lip as I do. “I need you.”

  Fuck.

  I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of those words. I grab her hips with both hands - and then plunge into the sweet, warm center I seem to crave more than anything else. Knowing she’s carrying my baby - knowing that doing this gave that to her - just makes it all sweeter. I lower my mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking as her eyes fly open, her head rocking back with the sudden sensation of it all, my cock stretching her open in all the right ways.

  “Ash!” She cries, and I growl at the sound of my name on her lips.

  I cover them with my own as I start moving inside her, my hips working fast as I thrust deep within her, again and again. We can take our time later - go slow and leisurely all we like - but right now, this is exactly what I need. What we need.

  “I love you.” I say again, tasting the words on my tongue, getting used to all the feelings behind them. “Fuck, Chloe, I love you so much—you’re—so—fucking—perfect—”

  I’m gasping as I talk, pleasure and heat coiling tightly within me, the pressure building until I’m sure that at any moment now, it will all be too much.

  “I love you…too…” She gasps against me, opening her eyes to meet mine and almost undoing me with everything I see there. “Love…you…”

  I grin, fierce and dangerous, and I can’t stop kissing her as I raise my hands to her breasts, my fingers stroking over those perfect nipples as I drive into her again and again, feeling everything in her tense up under me in perfect anticipation of what’s going to come.

  “Fucking…love you…” I mutter, kissing and touching every part of her I can reach, reveling in the way she clings to me as I hit all the right buttons, my cock pulsing hard as her tight, tight pussy clenches down on it.

  Every stroke has her gasping, moaning my name, giving me everything I need and then some.

  This. This is what I want. What I need. Just this.

  I only have a moment to think it before her breathing quickens under me and her fingers tighten on my back.

  “Ash…Ash…I…”

  I clutch her to me, drawing back to thrust into her hard, wanting her to feel every little thing as she flies over that edge - and then, just an instant later she does, unraveling before me as her whole body shudders. Her nails dig hard into my back, she gasps and cries as her head presses back into the couch and I clutch her to me, my hips still working hard and fast, wanting to give it all to her - give her everything - no thoughts left in my mind as the desperate need within me just takes over.

  Her tight pussy clenches hard around me, working my cock as I try to hold on, try to stay with this moment—this feeling—Chloe right here—only to explode moments later with a harsh cry, everything rocking up through me, my cock spurting and pulsing within her as she spasms in response. I bury my head into her neck, thrusting mindlessly as I drive us both through that release, that perfect moment of pleasure, Chloe the only thing I can think or feel. The only thing that exists.

  When I finally slump on top of her, twisting us both around in the limited space of the couch and pulling her into me, we’re both breathing heavily, exhausted and satiated in the best way possible. I stroke her hair, closing my eyes as every worry and concern floats away from me, at least for this simple, beautiful moment.

  “I love you.” I say again, the murmur so quiet I’m not sure she hears it until she responds, shifting closer.

  “I love you too.” She says, her words no more than a breath over my ear.

  I kiss the top of her head, feeling like some of the tension is finally seeping out of me.

  So long as we’ve got this, none of the rest of it matters.

  Nothing can get in the way of this simple, pure feeling between us.

  There’s no way I’m going to let it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chloe

  After that night together - and now that my parents have met him - I start seeing Ash more regularly. I know Dad doesn’t like it much - and he makes the occasional comment about how inappropriate it is for me to stay there overnight - but those are getting easier to ignore now, and he doesn’t overtly try to stop me. Ash is the father of my baby, after all, and I think Dad’s starting to realize forbidding me from doing things isn’t going to work so well anymore.

  It surprises me how much of a relief that is, too. It finally feel
s like I’m starting to take control of my life and get some of the independence I’ve been wanting for so long. I guess that’s to be expected now that I’m having a baby, but it feels like it’s long overdue.

  I smile as I think of my baby.

  My baby.

  It’s hard to believe how much it’s changed my life - and all for the better. I mean, that’s what everyone says children do, but even so…I never could have imagined this. Especially when I first found out. It’s hard to remember how scared I was back then, now that everything is finally working out so nicely.

  I’m starting to show now, too, and I can’t stop touching my belly. Ash can’t stop kissing it. Mom is getting more and more excited about everything, discussing all sorts of plans with me - and I even catch Dad looking over at my belly sometimes, probably when he thinks I won’t notice.

  Ash and I are already discussing names, even though we won’t know what gender it is until my next scan - that’s six weeks away and I’m so excited to see my baby again that I’m not sure how I’m ever going to cope with the wait.

  Except that it’s only a month until my art exhibition now, and since I still haven’t settled on a theme or idea for the paintings I’ll be submitting, I’m pretty sure that’s going to distract me for most of that time. I came back with all sorts of inspiration and ideas from Philadelphia, and I’ve experimented with all sorts of different subjects and styles since then, but still…nothing has had that ‘wow’ moment that tells me that’s the thing. I know I’m running out of time now, though, if I want to be able to create something and refine it properly - and I’m starting to wonder whether I’m ever going to get that moment, or if I’m just going to have to go with something I already have.

  If that’s my only concern, though, I know I have nothing to complain about. Those sort of challenges are the ones I want in my life - and for the first time, I actually feel excited about the future and all it’s possibilities. Ash seems to be too. I know he was only joking about getting married right now, but it’s got to the point I can actually picture it happening at some point, which is so much more than the vague, distant uncertainty it’s felt like so far.

  He’s slowly relaxing too, as the shop gets back up and running and he finds a way to work things out with the bikes that were hit - either compensating the owners, fixing the bikes, or using the damage to alter them in a way that gets the owners’ approval. I’m impressed he manages it, and more than a little proud of him, but then I guess he’s been living and breathing bikes for a long time now.

  It’s enough that I think he’s starting to get over what happened to the shop - he’s not looking over his shoulder nearly as much, or warning me about the streets outside his place. I’m still a little wary, but at least that area doesn’t feel quite as oppressive as it did.

  He still hasn’t gotten around to working on the Kawasaki, but we take the touring bike up to the reservoir again a couple of times, enjoying the warmer weather - and it’s such a thrill that we’re not even sneaking around anymore. I’m just visiting my boyfriend. It’s a crazy feeling, but I’m loving every moment of it.

  For that couple of weeks, everything seems perfect and I even start hoping that the strain between my father and I is easing into something more comfortable - until I get back from Ash’s shop one night, and it all comes crashing down.

  I walk into a tense atmosphere that hits me like a ton of bricks, even before I see either of my parents. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve grown accustomed to sensing these things - a strange quiet, a stillness in the house maybe - something that raises the hair on the back of my neck and alerts me that tonight isn’t going to be a good night.

  This time, though, I don’t have to go looking for my parents or find out what’s wrong - the moment I step into the hallway of our upstairs apartment, my father’s voice reverberates from the living room to the right.

  “CHLOE!”

  I freeze, tension and adrenaline hitting my body at once as my eyes go almost round. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him shout like that—and not straight away. Dad likes to do cool, calm and collected—

  “Come here! Right now!”

  I almost want to turn and run in the opposite direction, but some part of me is starting to panic - what if this isn’t about me at all? What if something has happened, or has really gone wrong? Is Mom okay?

  I step nervously forward, right up to the doorway - and then I freeze again. Dad seems to sense me there, spinning with a force and violence I’ve never seen from him and when I see his face—twisted and red, veins bulging from his forehead and eyes absolutely wild with fury—I clutch at the doorway, my heart galloping in my chest.

  “What—” I start timidly, my voice barely more than a whisper as I’m totally intimidated in a way I haven’t been for such a long time.

  I can’t look away from him - I’m scared that if I break his gaze, he’ll be on me and I won’t even see it - I don’t know if Mom is here too, or what’s going on, or—

  “What have you been doing? What have you become?! And when? When did my little girl start—start—” He sputters, too angry to speak.

  I have no idea what he’s talking about and my mind scrambles around for something—anything—that might have provoked this reaction. Even learning about my baby didn’t—

  Then my gaze finally catches on what’s lying on the floor - what’s scattered all around Dad, actually, the pieces of it shredded and torn.

  My sketch book.

  Or one of them, anyway, the thick paper and dark line drawings obvious. Something in me is horrified to see it destroyed in this way, but that part is distant, most of me still too shocked to feel anything - and I’m still so confused, my brow drawing together as Dad rages, trying to understand—until I see it. The drawings. Or what remains of them, anyway.

  This isn’t the sketch book with my concepts and ideas for the exhibition. This is another one entirely - for fun, for mindless entertainment - one that’s taken on a totally new direction recently.

  It’s the mostly-intact picture of him lying propped up on the bed that finally gives me that moment of recognition - elbow behind his head, chest bare and the covers low enough to just make out the perfect ‘V’ leading down to—

  Oh no. Oh, please no.

  My stomach drops out from under me and I stumble, falling into the doorway as - now that I’ve seen it - I’m suddenly unable to stop seeing the others, either. All the torn and scattered drawings that still spring immediately to life in my mind. There’s one over there showcasing the perfect lines of his ass, and others—I see the tip of his very erect cock in one remnant, the rest torn away—and every indecent image I’ve ever drawn plays across my mind.

  “I—I—” I stutter, not knowing what to say, eyes wide as I look at the wreckage of my sketch book, flung everywhere. The first thing that finally comes out isn’t at all the right thing, but the question burns in me anyway. “You…went through my things?”

  His head snaps around to me, jaw working hard as his teeth clench together.

  “What did you expect? Of course we did. After—everything—you think we could trust you—and it’s a good thing, too, or I never would have seen all this. All the dirty, sordid things you’ve been up to. This—this—is the kind of thing you want to draw? This is the art you’ve talked about pursuing all of your life—this?!”

  “No—” I try to say, heat rushing to my face, and I’m pretty sure I could be on fire it’s so red. “No—of course not—I just—I—”

  I know how it looks. I know, deep inside me, just why this is too much—why he’s so angry—and I have no idea how to explain, at all. There isn’t an explanation, except that Ash’s body is pure perfection and I just…I wanted…

  “Well, no more, Chloe.” He glares at me. “You’ve been under the wrong kind of influences for too long, now, and you need to be brought back to what’s right. I’m not taking any of this any longer—from now on, you go where I tell you, see who I
tell you and do what I tell you—and you can be sure he won’t be anywhere on that list.”

  “I—you can’t…” It’s the wrong thing to say, but I’m still too stunned to think straight.

  His eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, face flushing an ugly shade of purple.

  “I’ve had enough of your disrespect.” He practically spits as he marches right up to me. I can smell the alcohol on his breath and it sends a shudder down my spine. “I can and I will. I’m the head of this household, and for once in your damn life you’ll do as I say. Until you learn how to behave, you’re not leaving this house.”

  I shrink away and he grabs my arm, pulling me forward into the room as I cry out. I try to jerk back, but the hold is too strong - the vice-like grip feeling like it’s going to break something, his fingers digging hard into my skin.

  “Stop—” I cry, almost frantic as I struggle, but he’s so much stronger than me and I can’t break the hold as he pulls me over to the table, grabbing something off it. “Stop—Dad—stop it—”

  He shoves the piece of paper at my face and I briefly make out the full, detailed sketch of Ash’s thick, pulsing cock, with every vein lovingly outlined, but I barely even register it right now, too scared to give it more than a quick glance.

  “If this is what you’ve learned from him, I promise you, he’ll never step foot in this house again. I don’t care if he is the father of your child - that’s your fault - there’s no way he’s coming near my grandchild.”

  “Let me go!” I yell, pulling on my arm, panic and fear racing through me. I don’t remember ever being actually scared of him before. I’ve been frustrated, angry, sad, guilty…everything else when we’ve argued, but never actually scared. He’s never been like this—Dad doesn’t shout, or grab me, or talk like this— “Let…go…of…me…”