Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3)

by Dobson, Shannon

  “A week, I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to tell you and well, you made that day today.” She smiles at me, her perfect lips so desirable. I kiss her hard, still holding onto the tiny socks and the stick that confirms my future.

  “Thank you, thank you for everything you have ever given me. I can’t wait for this baby, already. I love you so much, Abigail. Forever and always, Angel,” I tell her, kissing every part of her face, her eyes, her cheeks and nose, her chin and jaw then her perfect rosy red lips.

  “I love you too. I owe you my life, Leighton. I will do anything in my power to please you,” she whispers to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and climbing up me to wrap her legs around my waist.

  “I need to be inside you, baby,” I tell her, taking her through the room and to our bed. I smile to her before placing her down gently onto the bed sheets. I fall onto her, keeping my weight off her. Kissing her lips, I move down her body, shifting her beautiful silk dress up as I go. I reach her breasts, licking and sucking at the exposed flesh, watching as goosebumps rise upon her.

  I kiss further down, her stomach now in view. I get close to it, kissing her tiny bump present. How I haven’t noticed is beyond me, but I’m so glad I haven’t, the surprise is worth it. “Hey baby, I can’t wait to meet you,” I say quickly, kissing her stomach. I shuffle down the bed further, reaching her lace covered pussy, bending my nose in to inhale her glorious scent. “Fuck that is so fucking gorgeous,” I tell her, licking and sucking at her moistness through the fabric.

  Her body quivers under my touch, her groin pushing up against my attack on her. “Leighton. Fuck.” She moans out, her hands reaching into my hair and pulling at them. She is fighting with herself, whether to pull me up her or push me onto her further. Either way, I am a happy man, tasting her wet pussy or kissing her sweet lips both have the same effect on me. They make me fucking hard.

  “Fuck me Leighton.” She begs me, finally pulling me up to her.

  “Stand baby, I need to strip you,” I order her, standing from her beautiful body.

  She stands and presents herself to me, placing her hands behind her back and bowing her head to me in respect. I don’t want my submissive right now, I want my wife, my beautiful sexy glorious, pregnant wife.

  I walk around her, unzipping the zip to the side of her body, the back completely exposed. I walk back around to her front, grasping her chin in my forefinger and thumb. I lift her head up to look at me. “Baby, I want to see your eyes as I take in your beautiful body. You are not my submissive tonight, you are my wife,” I inform her, moving my hands to her shoulders to push her dress from her shoulders.

  I watch as it trickles down her body like water, pooling at her feet. I offer my hand and she steps out of it so elegantly, her high heeled Jimmy Choo’s making her legs seem like a mile high. “God you are just so perfect baby,” I tell her, stroking the side of her body, tickling her soft curves and luscious breasts. “God, I love you in lace,” I whisper. “Almost as much as I love you naked and bare for me,” I continue, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. Her breasts spill free into my waiting hands. I massage them, tweaking her erected nipples.

  She judders under my caress, begging for more. I bend my head and lick a nipple, drawing it into my mouth. “So sweet and so perfect,” I announce before dropping to my knees.

  Her pussy is in my view, so juicy and wet through the sodden lace of her panties. I draw them down her thighs, letting them drop to her slender ankles. “Fuck you smell so… intoxicating.” I bury my head between her thighs, inhaling her before letting my tongue dart out to taste her. Her body trembles as my tongue brushes against her clit, the bundle of nerves throbbing.

  “Leighton!” she screams, her hands clutching my strands so tightly they could rip out of my skull if I move an inch.

  “I need to be in you, baby. I need to fuck you like I should have on our wedding night.” I pick her up and toss her onto the bed. Her body shakes with her joyous laughter, as I remove my trousers and let them drop to the floor. I unbutton my shirt slowly, watching as greedy eyes eat me, her gaze laced with sexual need.

  “Keep the tie, we may need it later.” She smiles at me with those devilish blues. She winks at me, biting down on her lip so hard it may bleed, but it is okay I will fix her and make her better with every breath that I take.

  “Okay sweetheart. Now, open up and let me in.” I laugh out, watching as she parts like the red sea, giving me a glimpse of her glistening, juicy sex.

  I climb on her, slowly sliding my body against hers. The second our bodies connect, a zap of electricity passes through me straight to my heart, telling me everything is perfect. I smile at my beautiful wife, sliding my cock slowly inside of her tight opening.

  “This is how it should always be. You and me Angel, forever and eternity,” I whisper, sliding fully inside of her heat and connecting us as one, forever and always.

  The End

  Shannon is a twenty something, crazy, bubbly girl from Essex in the UK. Essex has been her home for her entire life, living in the same house from birth. She loves ink, piercings and being individual and unique. She loves to go bowling, watch movies and playing Dungeons and Dragons is one of her favourite pastimes.

  She began writing in 2013 with her debut novel released in march 2014. She has been a creative writer since a child, writing poems, short stories and books from the young age of 3.

  She has four brother, one who has passed, and one sister, who is her best friend.

  She has the most supportive father and a mother who was a massive fan of her writing. Shannon lost her mum in March 2016.

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  One-Dustin

  The pitter-patter of the rain against the high-rise windows soothed me. The intermittent flashes of electric bolts in the sky grounded me and the booming crashes of the thunder bought me a sense of peace I couldn’t and wouldn’t find anywhere else. It bought me back to solid ground.

  I stood by my floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in my trouser’s pocket, the other clutching a crystal tumbler as though it were my salvation. It rested against my chest, the scent of the whiskey strong and overpowering. I allowed it to infiltrate my body and bring me to reason.

  I could see my reflection as I stared out in to the darkened night. My dark brown wayward hair was brushed backwards from my hands continuously running through it. My eyes, normally a midnight blue, appeared nearly black, empty and hollow against my crinkled face; the stress from the previous day showing evidently in every line, wrinkle and crease. My shirt and trousers clung tightly to my body, my jacket strewn carelessly against the back of the sofa. My tie lies loosely around my neck, my top button undone and showering the tiniest smattering of chest hair.

  At thirty-two years old, I was worth a fair bit of money but I had worked hard for every penny and pound of my wealth, strived to create a successful business that helped save lives and council those who desperately needed it.

  I had worked my arse off at university for over six years, finally earning the title Dr Reynolds. I was a doctor of psychology, but I no longer practised my acquired profession, instead I used my abilities to start up retreats for abused people, guiding other psychologists and support workers to make people’s lives better.

  My job demanded a lot of my time and attention, I shouldn't have this amount of heartache and stress on me. I couldn’t handle worrying about anything unnecessary.

  If it were for my own emotional welfare and sanity the answer would be simple; it would be a straight forward, no-way-in-hell, no. But I didn’t just have myself to think of anymore, there was a child involved and I couldn’t and didn’t want to be known as the part-time father who couldn’t be bothered with his own son or
daughter.

  Lilian had been a sneaky, conniving bitch, but she now held my baby inside her body and there was no way on this earth I was losing rights to my child. I would fight her tooth and nail for parental rights. The only problem was, I didn’t want joint custody; seeing my child on weekends or when I was allowed. I wanted to be there for my child every moment I could.

  I had the money to give my baby the best life imaginable. A proper upbringing, an amazing education and opportunities in life I hadn’t had. My parents were brilliant but they weren’t rich. I had grown up in an average house, on an average street with average neighbours. I couldn’t fault my mum and dad for anything, they loved me unconditionally and would still, to this very day -even as they approach seventy years old- do anything for me. They would be over the moon about becoming grandparents to my child and I knew their love for this baby would outweigh its own mothers by miles.

  Lilian wanted me, that’s all she wanted from this. The child was just a means to an end with her. When she approached me four months after I had laid eyes on her, she had dropped a sonogram on my desk and told me the jelly-bean shaped greyness was mine.

  Staring at the foetus had brought me a sense of pride and happiness I had never felt before. Earning my first million, buying my first home and graduating college hadn’t compared to the elation seeing my own child had brought.

  At that point I had no intentions of being with her, no intentions of having more contact than necessary, she was a one night stand for heaven’s sake, but she had been brutal and there wasn’t a hope in hell, no magic lamp with a three-wish genie, that could get me out this mess.

  ‘You are going to marry me, Dustin, you are going to marry me or I will terminate this… thing and I will tell everyone, the press, the paparazzi, every news station I can contact, that you forced me in to having the abortion.’ A lump, the size of Great Britain, had formed in my throat that very second, clogging my airways and making the bile in the pit of my stomach rise.

  How? How could a person be so heartless and despicable? I didn’t care if she lied and said I forced her to abort the child, but there was no way I would let her terminate this pregnancy and destroy the first life I had created. When the child was born, then I would take legal action and gain full custody of my baby.

  The lights illuminating the skyline drowned me in tranquillity, I felt a thousand feet tall in my tower, watching down as small lights from the passing cars were barely visible. Nobody down below could see me, knowing I was watching them, but I could see them.

  I’ve always craved a little control, demanded respect and admiration from those around me. Unless it was my mother, that woman had me under the thumb. I would do anything she asked or ordered. Mainly out of respect, sorry I mean fear.

  You didn’t disrespect Carol Reynolds, not if you wanted to live. You disrespect my mother and my father will have you hanging from a tenth story window by your ankles, quicker than you can say sorry. His age didn’t stop him, nor did the bad back he had acquired from too much hard labour over his life-time.

  Just thinking about my folks brought a smile to my face, even as my current circumstances dampened my usual happy mood. My staff liked me, or so I liked to think. I was a good boss, my employees had great benefits, a support network that was thorough and would apply any means necessary to make sure every single member was happy. I didn’t care if someone was the photocopy boy or the management of a retreat, they were offered the same level of care.

  Lilian had ruined a place I found comforting. Entering my office yesterday and slapping me with the news of impending fatherhood had made me joyful, until she ruined it with her vile threat.

  I was somewhat excited to visit my parents tomorrow, to give them a copy of the sonogram I had taken from Lilian. I could already picture the smile in my mother’s turquoise green eyes. My father would hug me, slapping my back as he laughed with happiness. My brother, Donovan, would be over the moon. With two children of his own, I knew how much my mother and father enjoyed doting on children. He would hand me a cigar, a cheap one, but with such pride that I would smoke the damn thing anyway.

  I had offered all of my family financial assistance when I became wealthy, but all declined, stating it was my money and they were happy with their lives. My mother and father had no idea I paid their mortgage repayments every month and that the money they put towards the repayments was deterred to a savings account. I would present them with it on their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They deserved a break, deserved the around-the-world trip they had both always wanted.

  Donovan, older than I by six years, worked as an electrician. His sixty grand a year job made him happy and content. His beautiful wife and two daughters were safe and healthy and that was all any of them could ask for.

  I was happy as long as they were.

  Savings accounts were set up for all my family, without their knowledge, but I would give them the money they deserved when the time was right. I would pay every last damn penny I had, to make sure their lives ran smooth and safe.

  Clutching my now-empty glass, I sighed. I needed to get my head together and grasp whatever control I had left.

  I walked away from the window, placing the crystal tumbler on the kitchen unit, before retreating to my room. I stripped out of my suit, brushed my teeth and climbed in to bed.

  Switching the bedroom light off, I stared at the ceiling in the darkness.

  At three in the morning I finally allowed sleep to consume me.

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