“Come on, baby. Let’s collapse together.”
Serena slipped in beside me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Gazing into my eyes, she gushed with excitement, her eyes gleaming.
“I can’t believe we’re really here. I can’t believe it’s over. When he drew out that gun, I thought…”
“I know. I know,” I whispered, kissing her nose once more. “But come now. Let’s talk about the good things. The things we’ve only just learned.” I placed my hand on her stomach, feeling the slight bump.
“It’s barely even there,” she murmured, squeezing my hand.
“When did you find out?”
“Just today.”
I chuckled, sliding my fingers through her hair. “Surely you must have noticed before now?”
“I’ve been so lost in my own thoughts the past few weeks. I could hardly concentrate on anything. Just wondering if I would ever see you again. If it was too late to call you…”
“It was never too late,” I said, remembering the long, lonesome, chilly nights.
“I wouldn’t have come. Not if I hadn’t learned I was pregnant,” Serena breathed. “I was too frightened.”
“And maybe just a little stubborn,” I said, giving her a smile.
“But I remembered what you said about Gracie. That you missed all those precious years.”
“I want to be there for every single step,” I said, reaching for her hand and kissing her fingers, one after another. It nearly broke my heart, hearing her say she’d thought about Gracie in that way. That it had stuck with her that I’d missed so much.
I continued, growing more wistful. “I want to be there to help you with morning sickness, and put cool cloths on your head. I want to make you dinner, help our baby grow.” I sighed, feeling a wave of emotion flow through me. “I want to put the past away, and build our family. Together.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I stroked Serena’s head. I felt I could hear the whirling thoughts in her mind. Her skin shimmered. Above the crackling fire, the clock’s long hand ticked over the top. My face broke into a smile, realizing.
“Serena. It’s Christmas.”
She had a beaming, bright smile. Turning to face the fire, I watched as the flames reflected in her eyes. She tossed her shoulders back, chuckling.
“After all that, and it’s still only a few hours later.”
“Time moves strangely when you’re not paying attention,” I agreed, rubbing at the base of her spine. As I rubbed, I watched as her eyes changed, as they grew dark and wide. I sensed the air shift around us. Diving toward her, I brought my lips to hers, sucking at her bottom one. Deep within her, she released a gorgeous moan. I felt it vibrate along my neck, in my chest, in my arms.
As we kissed, I lifted her into me and whirled her around. As she giggled, our kiss broke, but the tension remained. Her breasts heaved against my chest as her passion rose and I burst toward the bedroom, tossing her onto the top of the sheets.
Animalistic aggression took over me. My hands tingled, yearning to rip at her clothes. She looked at me like a small, innocent animal, with wide eyes blinking up.
As she sat, she slowly brought her legs apart, revealing a glistening wetness between her thighs. My cock grew insistent, hard against my pant leg. I could see the shape of my girth—the veiny, pulsing member against the softness of my boxers.
Entranced, I brought my hands along the length, feeling the weight of my cock. I yearned to be inside this woman, to feel the softness of her pussy, the wet tightness between her thighs.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I breathed.
“Come here,” she whispered, biting her lip. Reaching down, she tore at her blouse, exposing the top crest of her breast.
Without hesitation, I reached forward, gripping the fabric. I tore it from her breast down to her belly button. Bringing my face forward, I kissed at the softness of her skin, closing my eyes.
I drew my head upward, peppering light kisses from her belly button to her breasts to her soft, round, brown nipples. Catching the small, tart blueberry of her nipple in my mouth, I brought my tongue over and over the ridge, hearing a moan escape her mouth.
“Do you like that, baby?” I asked her, my voice gruff and wild.
“Don’t stop touching me,” she ordered. Reaching for my shoulders, she drew me over her and kissed me. I pressed my body across hers, forcing my cock against her leg, still straining inside my pants.
Taking my cue, Serena reached toward my belt and unlatched it, bringing my massive, rock-hard cock into her hand. Her eyes were wide at its girth, its length—as if she’d forgotten.
“It’s even better than I remembered,” she whispered, her shoulders shaking with delight.
I brought myself onto my feet, on the side of the bed, and drew off the rest of my clothes and hers. She sat on all fours, completely naked, with her ass skyward and her back arched. I swept a hand down her back, toward the crest of her ass, as she moved her lips toward my cock.
With her eyes closed, Serena brought her lips around the edge and then slowly eased down the thickness of my member, bringing the tip into the smoothest, darkest ridge of her throat. Knocking my head back, I let out a long, wonderful moan.
At my cue, Serena’s mouth lifted upward, smiling. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. Reaching up, she cupped my balls with her hand, then drew her other hand along my ass. Her blond hair hung in curls on either side of my cock, and I tucked it behind her ears, wanting to see her face.
When I felt I was about to come all over her lips and tits and face, I brought myself back and whipped her around, still on all fours. Revving forward, I fucked her doggy style, with my fingers along her clit, rubbing at the hard, wet bud.
She cried out as I fucked her, arching her back and bringing her hands against the wall. She beat at the wooden wall with her fists, telling me she was going to come. She was so close.
As I revved my cock deep within her, I placed my hand at the base of her stomach, kissing her back. With this final thrust, I felt her begin to come around my cock. And with these spasms, my cock gave in, orgasming explosively, like never before. I cried out, closing my eyes.
Moments later, we were gasping, staring at one another. Serena placed her hand on her lower belly, her cheeks growing red. She was cupping our baby, our child. Reaching forward, I laced my fingers with hers. Sweat continued to run down our cheeks, falling to the comforter.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” I whispered.
“Merry Christmas,” she cooed back.
We wrapped our arms around one another that night, safe from the rustling world around the cabin, and fell into a deep and wonderful slumber. We slept until after noon the next day—not waking until the sun crept up over the trees along the lake.
Exhausted and wordless, we met the remainder of the day with a hike, walking hand in hand and inhaling the crisp chill of the forest. Serena’s cheeks were bright red, healthy—like those of an apple in an orchard. For a full hour, we sat at the edge of the lake, staring out at the reflection of the water and the orange and dulling yellow light.
We would collect Gracie and meet with my parents the next day. We would tell the good news to our separate families in the days to come. But on this day, the news of our baby was only for us. And we used it for fuel, building the kind of happiness that would last forever.
What will the next year hold for Serena and Ethan and their growing family?
Subscribers to Layla’s mailing list can get a bonus epilogue absolutely FREE
CLICK HERE TO GET IT NOW
LIKE Layla on Facebook for news, giveaways and more!
Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir
Layla Valentine & Ana Sparks
Time for a tease!
As promised, here are the first few chapters of our previous book, Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir
Happy reading!
Copyright 2017 by Layla Valentine and Ana Sparks
Al
l rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author. All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Antonio
Sunlight blared through the curtains and I grimaced as I rolled over onto my stomach. A wave of nausea washed through my body as I burrowed into the warm and inviting blankets, every fiber of my being wishing morning hadn’t yet arrived. My muscles ached and I had a pounding migraine, but I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the events of the night before.
I had spent the previous night on a friend’s yacht, enjoying one of the best parties I could have asked for with my pick of the social elite. Booze had flowed freely among us, with the women as plentiful and beautiful as the flowers on the Italian hillside. It had been a gathering fit for royalty.
And royalty I was.
I was Prince Antonio di Maggio, and my parents were the King and Queen of the Kingdom of San Paluzzi, one of wealthiest micronations in the world. Tucked within Italy and filled with only the crème de la crème of European society, this was the place anyone who dreamed of success hoped to land. Luxurious houses dotted the landscape and gated communities were the norm. It was the one place on the planet that I would consider absolute paradise—and one day it was all going to be mine.
Right now, Mother and Father did all of the work, tending to the major decisions and ensuring the lasting prosperity of all who were a part of the community, and I respected them for it. I hoped one day I might be able to rise to the same level of greatness they had, and show not only San Paluzzi but the entire world that I was an effective leader.
But, in the meantime, I was going to enjoy my youth as much as possible. Of course, this meant I was going to spend my nights at the latest party, flirting with only the prettiest women, then sleep off the effects of the night before in the pampering luxury of my family’s yacht. Life couldn’t have been going any better for me, and I was certain nothing was ever going to change.
A knock at the door roused me from my dozing state, and I looked over my shoulder with a groan. I couldn’t see what time it was with my phone lying face down on my night stand and the room still too dim to make out the hands on the clock which hung on the opposite wall. When the knock persisted, I groggily answered in my most annoyed voice.
The door opened and my butler walked in. I knew it was him, but I still acted surprised that he would dare to bother me so early in the morning. At least, I assumed it was early—it was hard to know for sure with the light blinding me and my headache making it nearly impossible to think clearly.
I allowed my head to fall heavily back on the pillow, doing my best to show him how disinterested I was in any business he brought to me.
“What do you want, Moretti?” I snapped.
“I’ve a message for you, Prince Antonio. It came directly from the King.”
He stood holding a piece of paper in his hand, and I lifted my head once more in surprise. It was rare for my father to pay any extra attention to me these days. It was my duty to show up to the parties, meetings, and dinners he told me to show up for, and that was about it. If there was anything of any importance, it was discussed then.
“What does it say?” I asked, the concern in my voice masked with disinterest and distance.
“They are summoning you to the palace immediately,” Moretti replied flatly. I could hear how unimpressed he was with the way I was treating the situation, but I really didn’t care. It wasn’t up to him to judge how I ran my life.
“How immediately is immediately?” I asked sarcastically. I knew what he—and they—wanted, but I embraced my princely rights and knew I was going to run the day on my own clock as I always did. I would have appreciated him bringing me breakfast along with the note, and I wasn’t going to make his job any easier than it needed to be.
“You know how his majesty feels about being kept waiting. Her majesty, too. They sent this early this morning in the hope that you would be there in time for breakfast—which, as you know—is eight o’clock sharp.” He spoke with an air of loftiness and I felt anger burn in my chest.
“You mean it’s not even eight yet?! How dare you wake me this early! I have a splitting headache, my body hurts, and I feel sick—I have half a mind to tell you to get out until lunch, Moretti!” I snapped with as much passion as I could muster, but there was little change in his expression.
He walked over to the window and threw open the curtains, causing light to flood into the room. I, of course, grabbed the pillow and flung it over my eyes, swearing at the man for his incompetence. Moretti, by contrast, seemed entirely untouched by my disdain.
“My apologies, but my orders do come from the King, and he directed me to get this to you as soon as possible. I know it’s…inconvenient, but my hands were tied.” He left the note on the nightstand next to me and walked back to the door. “I’ll have the limo ready and waiting for you, sir,” he said as he grabbed the handle and closed me inside my room once more.
I groaned as I reached out and took the note from my father. Moretti was right—it was a summons, and nothing more. He and my mother wished for me to appear and dine with them for breakfast—within the hour.
Sure, I could get there on time if I were to hurry, but feeling like I was, hurrying was the last thing I was planning to do. I didn’t feel well, and I had no intention of doing anything that made me feel worse. After lying in bed a few minutes longer, I finally rose and made my way to the bathroom.
I took a long shower and groomed my beard carefully, admiring myself in the mirror the entire time. Yes, I knew I was conceited, but I had every right to be. My arms were muscular and my stomach tightly toned, boasting a six pack and chiseled obliques. My dark tattoos that snaked down each bicep and onto my forearms only added to the elusive and mysterious look I was so proud of.
I grabbed a comb and yanked it through my jet-black hair. Though I was 29 years old, I had the body of someone who was closer to 24. My hair was thick and soft, my body hard as a rock. I was irresistible to women, and I knew it. I pulled on my tight, ripped jeans and a T-shirt that showed every muscle on my torso and headed toward the door.
I didn’t bother looking at the clock—I would get there when I got there, and Mother and Father were just going to have to deal with it. I climbed into the back of the limo and the driver started off in a shot. He, like Moretti, was more concerned with the King and Queen’s wishes than mine, and I was more than happy to let them be the ones to worry.
I turned my attention out the window, wondering what I possibly could have done that would warrant such an order from Father. It seemed he was always upset about something, and I could only imagine what it was this time. I knew I wasn’t living up to their expectations, but I was young and I deserved to have a good time. I’d seen what the throne did to them, and I wasn’t at all eager to see that happen to me.
We pulled up to the palace and I cracked my knuckles. I wanted everyone to think that I was far from nervous, but in reality, I could feel a knot in the base of my stomach. Some of it was the hangover, I knew, but most of it was not wanting to hear what my parents had to say. The limo stopped in front of the doors and I got out.
“Better get this over with,” I muttered as I walked up the marble staircase. The butler opened the door for me, but I was too irritated to acknowledge him. The man tried to show me into the dining hall, but I pushed past him and let myself in.
“Antonio!” my father roared as soon as he saw me. Breakfast had been served and he and Mother had eaten already. Mine was sitting in its place, cold and clearly neglected.
�
�Father! I apologize for the delay—I received the word while I was still in bed and I didn’t want to come in without looking decent.” I did my best to give both my parents a charming smile, but I could see by the look in my father’s eyes that he was far from amused. He held in his hand a rolled-up magazine, and I did my best to see what it was before he spoke.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long.
“What is this garbage?!” my father roared as he slapped the magazine down on the table.
I glanced down at it and immediately knew what it was. One of the more notorious tabloids had taken one of my recent escapades and turned it into a scandalous tale, then they had promptly published it on the front page of each copy they produced that month. The story spread like wildfire, but—of course—it was in a tabloid so there was a lot of debate about the truth in those pages.
“I thought you were above reading such filth,” I said coyly, doing my best to keep the situation in my favor. Mother chuckled and shook her head, but I could sense she was more disappointed in me than she was in Father reading such gossip.
“Shut up and listen to me! I’ll have none of your attitude this time—this has been going on long enough, and it’s high time your mother and I stepped in and did something about it!” Father spoke with great passion in his voice, and I couldn’t help but cringe at his tone. I picked up the magazine and flipped through it, pretending this was the first time I had heard anything about it.
“Come on, Father, you can’t think that there’s any truth to this!” I cried as I held up the paper. He gave me a look that told me he believed there was more truth to it than he wanted to know and rose from his seat.
“Antonio, we’ve been talking, and I have been seriously considering abdicating from the throne.” His voice trailed off as he spoke, and I looked up at him with great interest.
“Oh?” I prompted at his pause. He glanced over at Mother, then looked back at me.
Mountain Daddy_The Single Dad's New Baby Page 11