Knocked Up

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Knocked Up Page 38

by Nikki Chase

“You’re so wet you’re staining the bedsheets, kitten,” he says as he puts his hand over my pussy. “You’re enjoying this, aren't you?”

  “Yeah,” I answer breathlessly.

  Running his fingers between my folds, he continues to kiss my back.

  With my hands restrained and my legs spread by Ethan's powerful thighs, all I can do is hold on as my body shudders from Ethan's skillful manipulation.

  “Fuck, I love it when you do that.” I faintly hear Ethan unzip his pants, and I realize he's no longer restraining my hands. It only takes one of his fingers right on the hood of my clit to keep me still now. It's crazy how even the lightest touch from him affects me so much.

  When he gets on top of me, his chest on my back, he's already naked. I can tell because his hot, hard cock slips between my thighs. He slides back and forth along my slit, teasing me as he grabs my hair and bites the back of my neck.

  “Ethan,” I moan, spreading my legs wider for him. I clutch the bedsheets, letting his strength and sensuality overwhelm me.

  “Tell me what you want, kitten,” he says, nibbling my earlobe.

  “I want you inside me.” I don't know what comes over me, but I’ve lost all of my inhibitions. Now there's only one thing on my mind, one thing that I want. “Please, Ethan, I want you inside me.”

  “As you wish,” he whispers. He lines the head of his cock against my opening and spears inside me, burying himself to the hilt. Unlike the first time, now he enters smoothly, aided by my overflowing wetness.

  I whimper and quiver when as he slides in and out of me with his thick, hard cock. He thrusts at an angle so he's hitting me at my sweet spot.

  “Fuck, kitten. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long. You’re so damn sexy.”

  “Do it,” I sigh.

  “Do what? What do you want?” Ethan asks urgently.

  “Do it. Come inside me. Don't hold back.”

  Ethan goes quiet, even though he keeps thrusting into me faster and harder. “And here I thought you couldn't talk dirty to me.”

  “Fuck me hard, Ethan,” I moan desperately, ignoring his teasing. I want to be used. I want him to satisfy his lust with my body. Like a mantra, I repeat, “Fuck me hard and come inside me.”

  Ethan gets up to his knees. I miss his weight and his warmth on my back. But by the way he’s roughly grabbing onto my waist with his powerful hands now, I know he's about to get serious.

  He pins me down against the bed and pulls me back onto his cock. Soon, I’m crying out into the mattress, my body shaking uncontrollably as Ethan growls and slams into me again and again, until his whole body stills all of a sudden—only his cock continues moving, twitching and spurting inside me.

  He leans his sweaty body on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight. He grabs my hair again firmly, although with no urgency this time. He whispers, “You little minx.”

  I smile and reach behind me to stroke his thick, dark hair. My smile grows even wider when he sighs with contentment and drops his head on the bed.

  “Don't ever leave again,” he says.

  “I won't,” I blurt out before I can think.

  When my brain starts working again, I realize with surprise that I mean it. It's not just the happy brain chemicals from my orgasm talking.

  “I love you.” Ethan gazes softly into my eyes, looking strong and vulnerable at the same time.

  “I love you, too,” I say.

  Epilogue

  Megan—One Year Later

  “Megan, did you really use to think that being incarcerated meant being burned alive?” Penny asks, grinning at me mockingly as her little feet sink into the sand.

  “Mom, what have you been telling her?” I ask, half-shouting so she can hear me. She's smiling in the sun as she gets closer, her skin still wet from having been in the resort swimming pool. She looks happier and more beautiful than I’ve seen her in years.

  “Just some old stories,” she says.

  “‘Incarceration’ and ‘incineration’ sound similar,” I say to Penny, shrugging.

  “And to think I take grammar and vocabulary advice from you,” Penny says, shaking her head.

  “Hey, that was a long time ago. I must've been, like, six,” I protest, getting defensive despite my attempt at staying cool.

  “Twelve,” Mom corrects me.

  “Hey, whose side are you on, Mom?” I ask. “Wait. Twelve, really? Damn.”

  “Yes, honey, really,” Mom says, smiling as she turns around to follow Penny, who’s already laughing and wandering off toward the water.

  When I turn to look at Ethan, he's grinning at me from his wicker lounge chair, which is identical to mine. “So did you think people got arrested and then burned alive?”

  “Hey, I just used to misspell the words, okay? I didn't confuse the meanings.”

  “Okay,” Ethan says, laughing as he moves his hair out of his face. I can't help but notice the wedding band on his finger—a mark that he's all mine. I still can't believe my luck sometimes.

  Without thinking, my fingers rub my own wedding band. Not long after I moved back into our apartment, we decided to start wearing our wedding bands again. No pomp, no ceremony.

  One morning, I just came across the rings in a drawer and said that we should start wearing them again. Ethan was happy to oblige.

  “Are you sure you don't want a real wedding, kitten?” Ethan asks, as if he can read my mind.

  This is not the first time he asks about having a “real wedding,” like a vow renewal and a reception. We’ve already had the paperwork taken care of the first time we got married in his office, so we won't have to repeat that.

  “Yeah.” I’ve been telling him I’d rather use the time and money to travel as a family, which is why we’re here now.

  “You know we can afford to have a family vacation and a wedding, right?” Ethan asks.

  I laugh. “Yeah, I know you have truckloads of money.”

  “‘We,’” Ethan says, correcting me. “Whatever is mine is yours now. It has been one year, kitten. When are you going to realize that?”

  “I don't know. Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am. Everything still seems like a dream.”

  “It's okay. We have all the time in the world,” he says with a smile.

  “Yeah.” I return his smile. We may not have exchanged any real vows, but I don't doubt for one moment that Ethan plans to stay in my life forever. “Real wedding” or not, he’s the love of my life. He's the person I want to grow old with.

  What's a wedding for, anyway? I’ve seen too many dysfunctional marriages to believe in the institution. A marriage certificate didn't stop my dad from leaving.

  We’re a family. Just another American family in the Caribbean, enjoying a vacation.

  Right now, we’re just Ethan, Megan, and Penny. Oh, and my Mom—she’s the matriarch now that she has a step-grandchild.

  Mom has never had the money to travel before, so I was ecstatic when Ethan said there's enough room for her in his—I mean our—private jet. She makes a great babysitter; it warms my heart to watch her play with Penny.

  True to her words, Mom has been spending more time in the city, staying over every couple of weeks, giving Ethan and me some opportunities to be alone.

  Mom has been making comments, comparing my relationship with hers. It's slowly dawning on her that she can do better than Frank, that she can hope for a healthy relationship like the one I have with Ethan.

  I’m hoping this vacation will give her some space to think and make plans.

  She's always welcome in our home, of course. But she’d probably want to keep her home and kick Frank out, and that’ll take some time. Luckily, we have Ethan’s team of lawyers on our side. Oops, I just did it again—our team of lawyers, I mean.

  The legal team should be able to resolve things pretty quickly, even if they are getting busy with the upcoming case against Lucas Murdoch. At my urging, Ethan has been taking the complaint
s of people who were wronged by Primaland and having his lawyer prepare a case on their behalf.

  Previously, he was worried that countering Murdoch’s attacks against him would incite him to do something worse and affect Penny in some way. But after lengthy talks with Penny, he realized that she’s old enough to understand what's going on, and she fully supports the lawsuit.

  Taking care of Lucas Murdoch will take care of Ashley as well. Without his money and the might of his PR team behind her, there won’t be much she can do.

  Hopefully, everything will go smoothly and we’ll be able to help everyone—my Mom, as well as Lucas Murdoch’s victims.

  I think this experience has made Ethan more mindful of how his giant corporation can affect small, local businesses. Despite his shareholders’ protests, he has decided to scale down on his expansion plan so his team can conduct extensive research and make sure to take local communities into full consideration.

  But whether we succeed or not, the main thing is that our little family is happy—including Mom, even if she's still technically living with Frank, at least for the next couple of months.

  We’re happy, healthy, and we stick together.

  After going through a few tumultuous years, I’ve learned not to take things for granted. There are always going to be problems in life—sometimes big and sometimes, thankfully, small. But with Ethan on my side, I feel like I can do anything.

  Honestly, I haven't said this to anyone, but I'm even thinking about maybe having a baby with Ethan.

  Wait, don't get excited yet. I said maybe. In the future.

  I still want to focus my energy on my career right now; in fact, I’ve just gotten a pretty good internship at a broadsheet newspaper right here in San Francisco.

  It's just that I’d never found the idea of parenthood to be appealing. But then I look at Penny and I think, maybe it wouldn't be so bad; maybe it would be pretty cool. Just accepting it as a possibility is a big step for me.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ethan asks, looking at me with that smile that makes my knees go weak. Luckily for me, I’m reclining on a lounge chair on the beach, relaxed as can be.

  “You,” I answer honestly. “And our future together.”

  Ethan takes my hand and strokes the back of it with his fingers. Our gazes lock, and I know he's thinking the same thing: everything is perfect just the way it is, and we can’t wait to grow old together.

  The End

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  A Dark Fairy Tale Romance

  Prologue

  “Sir, I…” My sentence hangs in the air. I know what I want and I want to ask for it, but I can’t bring myself to.

  “Tell me, what do you want?” Prince James leans just close enough to let his lips graze lightly against my pussy as he speaks, making me gasp.

  “I want you to… finish what you were doing,” I say softly.

  “And what was that?” he asks, prolonging my torment. I can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

  “You were… You were eating me out, Sir,” I say again, my pussy throbbing, both from the prince’s oral attention and from the cocky, dominating way he’s talking to me right now.

  “Good girl,” he says, in the kind of voice that makes me want to please him even more. “But before that, let’s get your punishment over and done with, shall we?”

  “Uh, punishment, Sir?”

  He picks me up into his arms, making me shriek in surprise. He stands me up on my feet, then he sits on a chair by the big wooden desk, on which lie a few stacks of books.

  “Lie across my lap,” he says darkly.

  As if hypnotized, I step forward and put my belly across Prince James’ lap. I know what’s coming. I’ve seen it before. I’ve fantasized about it, but I still can’t quite believe it’s actually about to happen now.

  “Relax,” the prince says, chuckling. “You’re going to like it.”

  Despite his words, my muscles tense as he pulls the hem of my dress up over my waist.

  Naked and vulnerable, all I can do is lie here and wait, while the heat from the prince’s lustful gaze sears into my flesh. I can feel his anticipation. The thought of inflicting pain on my body excites him.

  I place my fingers on the marble floor to balance myself. The prince’s shadow moves as he raises his hand in the air. I brace myself for the impact.

  Smack!

  The prince’s palm lands on my ass cheek, making it hot with pain.

  I whimper.

  Why did I ever think this would feel good?

  Maybe I’m not cut out to be a Submissive after all. I should tell the prince I’m not what he thinks I am.

  As I part my lips, the prince rubs the part of my ass that’s stinging in pain. His hand feels so gentle and warm.

  At his soothing touch, the heat from the pain turns into pleasure that seeps through my skin and spreads throughout my body.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it, sweetheart?” Prince James asks.

  “N—no, Sir.”

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  I remain quiet.

  Did I…?

  James

  I almost can’t believe my eyes.

  But there’s no doubt in my mind.

  It’s her.

  She’s even wearing that same choker around her slender neck, the one that looks a lot like a collar.

  I can’t forget a face like that. Or a body like that. The picture I’m looking at doesn’t show any part of her below the neck, but I remember.

  “Pretty, aren’t they?” The man asks. Exhaustion is still written all over his face, but he’s beaming with pride.

  “Yes, they’re lovely,” I answer, briefly tearing my eyes from the man’s phone that I’m holding in my hands.

  I couldn’t care less about the other two girls in the picture. I only have my eyes on her, the one with the big, doe-like eyes the color of café au lait, the one with the wavy honey-brown hair tumbling down her back.

  “This is Clara, my oldest,” he says as he points at the girl on the left. “Irina, the middle one—” his index finger moves to the girl in the center, then finally to the girl on the right “—and Rosemary, my youngest daughter.”

  Rosemary.

  So that’s her name.

  It fits her. A name from the old world, classic and elegant. But most importantly of all, that name is just another clue that she belongs to me.

  I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I saw her last month. In fact, I’ve taken screenshots and short videos of the moments she’s caught by the surveillance cameras.

  That tight little yellow dress, covering her up while showing off all her curves. That black choker around her neck. That golden rose pendant that rests between her collar bones, pulsing to the beat of her heart.

  And now this old man is telling me that beauty is his daughter?

  If I were a little more naïve, I’d be stumbling all over myself to declare this to be the work of fate. I’m not going to do that, but I know an opportunity like this will not come by twice.

  “They’re all grown up,” I comment casually as Albert, my butler, comes to pour us more red wine. He raises a questioning eyebrow at me, but I press on. To the old man, I say, “They must be starting their own families now.”

  “Oh, no.” Wrinkles appear on the man’s forehead and around his brown eyes when he chuckles. “My girls haven’t been lucky when it comes to love, especially Rosemary. She hasn’t ever had a boyfriend.”

  And yet, despite the man having daughters of marriageable age and me obviously staring too long at the picture, he makes no mention of match-making.

>   It doesn’t surprise me, of course. Even though I’m royalty, my reputation as a sadistic beast has preceded me.

  Still, I suppress a smile from spreading across my face.

  So she’s really a virgin.

  I had my doubts when I saw the white band around her wrist at the club. There was a meaning attached to every color, and white was for virgins.

  But I thought a girl like her must have had many suitors. She couldn’t possibly be untouched.

  “I have to admit it’s good to have them all to myself, though, even though that sounds selfish,” the old man suddenly says, smiling awkwardly.

  Returning his smile, I wonder if he simply said that to fill the silence. I’m so used to quiet and solitude that it feels normal to me.

  “Well, Quentin, I should retire for the night,” I say. “I have an event to attend in the morning. It’s the anniversary of the women’s division of the Royal Navy tomorrow.”

  “Thank you so much for everything, Prince James. I mean, Your Royal Highness,” the old man says as he stands up.

  “Oh, please. No need to get up. Just sit back and enjoy your meal.”

  “Thank you,” he repeats, stubbornly getting up. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I could’ve gotten lost in the woods and gotten attacked by wolves. You’ve saved my life.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I give him the same polite smile that I usually give the press, then leave him with the mountains of food on the table.

  I live alone in this big palace—along with Albert and the rest of the staff, of course. So when a guest comes, Albert tends to go overboard.

  I thought this old man was just an ordinary lost traveler. This part of the woods is thick and it regularly swallows up hikers into its depths.

  But it turns out he’s related to her.

  Based on his non-reaction at my obvious interest in his daughters, Quentin has probably heard about my depraved desires. And just like the rest of the kingdom, he doesn’t want me to get close to any of them.

 

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