by Nina Park
She meant it as a light-handed comment, but again, she saw an expression cross his face that she couldn't quite understand. It might have been interest, or longing, or frustration. He hid his emotions well, and reading facial expressions hadn't ever really been her strong suit.
"We'll talk about that later, I guess," he said. "For now, you want some real food?"
It was the middle of the day, and her stomach was rumbling. This baby seemed to eat half her food, and if she didn't eat regularly, she got so sick she thought she had food poisoning. It wasn't anything like fun.
"Sure," she replied. "And then, if you don't mind, I'd really like to try out the bathtub."
He glanced past her, and his eyes widened. "Holy crap, that looks gorgeous. I can see why." His gaze moved back to her, and she suddenly felt like he was taking her in from top to bottom. It was odd; he saw her every single day, so she wasn't sure why it felt so surprising to have him study her body in that way. It was like he hadn't seen her in days, and he needed to see her all at once to understand her.
"You could join me, if you wanted to." She let herself fall into the kind of seductive pose she hadn't taken in a while. One hip cocked to the side, her hand on her hip, her head just a little tilted. If her hair were loose, she would have encouraged it to fall to the side, but the sleek line of her ponytail would have to do.
"We'll see. Why don't you go on and get in and relax? I'll find something you can eat in there. Two birds, one stone."
"That sounds really good."
Vincent nodded before he turned and left. She heard his footsteps going down the stairs. There was something so incredibly domestic about the whole thing. Maybe he was thinking the same sorts of things she was.
Alina was still wearing the same lightweight dress she'd been in when Vincent burst into the hotel room and told her to pack. It had been worn for a while when she put it on in the first place, and then she'd been in a car for more hours than she cared to remember. It – and she – smelled. Peeling it off felt incredible, like it took a layer of dirt off her skin before she even got in the bath.
It was incredible how much her body had changed just in the few weeks since she'd realized she was pregnant. It was incredible how much Vincent seemed to enjoy it.
She stripped off her panties and bra and ran herself a bath.
Chapter Twelve
Putting together dinner for his woman while she had a bath: add it to the list of stuff Vincent had never even imagined he might be doing. He shook his head as he peered through the groceries Lucas had brought with him. He'd asked for some basics, but Lucas had stocked the fridge like his mother-in-law was coming over. There was deli meat, eggs, cheese, fruit, three different kinds of crackers, and a ton of other stuff. The kitchen was basically fully-stocked.
Can we just stay here forever? What a damn question. A handful of minutes before he'd offered to carry her over the threshold and she'd turned him down. Now she was asking if they could stay here.
He wasn't pissed, but he was confused. And in this area, it didn't take him too much to be confused. This was all pretty far out of his realm of expertise. For the first time, he found himself wondering if he could really pull this off. This full-time daddy thing. This full-time man thing. He'd never even tried before. He'd never wanted to try. And here he was. Nothing like diving into the deep end of the pool, apparently.
Her body had been soft and curved from the beginning, but it was softer and fuller now. If he hadn't been seeing her day by day, he wasn't sure he would have noticed. The beginnings of a swell to her tummy was gorgeous, and when he put his hands on her hips, he could feel the difference between her soft flesh and that hard swell. And her tits were incredible, full and heavy in his hands, and when he dragged his teeth over her nipples, she went completely insane. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. He would do anything other than give this up.
Except that if Frank Costa told him to back off his daughter, he would have no choice but to give her up. It was one of the few things that would force him into that situation. Goddammit. He needed to know if Dez had told him the truth, and he needed to know now. But he had no idea how to find out. Google wasn't any damn help. Even if he felt safe logging into his email, he sure as hell wasn't going to do it from any terminal he wasn't completely sure was locked down and safe. And, in all honesty, he wasn't really sure how to tell if a terminal was safe or not.
He pushed all of it out of his mind. Right now, he was going to get Alina a plate of food so she could eat and enjoy her bath. Lucas had even left a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling cider in the fridge. Vincent popped it open and poured a glass into a champagne flute. He poured himself a glass too; the cider suited him fine since the one time he'd tasted champagne he thought it tasted like sour vinegar. A longneck bottle of beer suited him fine any time and even better if it came in a stein.
It took a little work to carry it all upstairs, and thank God, she hadn't decided to close any of the doors between him and the bathtub. All the same, when he saw her in the tub, he nearly dropped everything.
The girl was exquisite. The tub was designed so that she was reclined in the water, her head resting in a carved-out nest. The water covered her boobs but was long enough that she could stretch out her legs and cover up her knees. She hadn't turned on the jets, so there were only soft ripples on the surface of the water from her breathing.
His cock was rock-hard, and he didn't care. All he wanted to do was stand there and look at her.
He must have made some sound; she turned her head and grinned up at him. "What did you bring me?" Did she make her voice sound like that on purpose, all low and soft? She was very aware of how sexy she was, he'd definitely figured that out over the last few weeks, but was she aware of this, specifically? There was no way to be really sure other than asking, and that would ruin the mystery. "Am I allowed to have that?" She pointed at the flutes.
"Non-alcoholic," he replied. "But I can get you some water or something if that sounds better. Lucas stocked this place all the way."
"Lucas? The guy who was here when we got here?"
"Yeah. He's an old friend of mine. Way back."
"You must go way back if he can just hand you the keys to a house." She was eyeing the plate like she was starving. He set it down within reach, then pulled up a little footstool that was set in the corner of the room. He felt a bit like a jackass with his knees practically up to his ears, but it was a good start. At least he got to watch her. "Are you hungry?"
"No, I ate," he lied.
She didn't catch it or didn't mind; she picked over the fruit, cheese, cubed ham, and crackers he'd brought up, sipping the cider. It was the first time he'd ever seen her really look ritzy. There was something delicate about the way she picked up each small piece of food that was different from devouring a gas station sandwich or a box of Chinese takeout. Like someone had taught her to eat with her pinkies out or something.
After a bit, she settled back in the bath. "Please, finish it," she said. "I can't eat any more anyway. And then get in here with me."
She looked so gorgeous; the idea of disturbing her at all was like ruining a painting.
"You should relax."
She shot him a look with so much heat that his cock jumped. "I want to relax with you."
If devouring a plate of ham and cheese would get him closer to her naked form, then he was going to do that. He polished off the rest of the cut up food and then stripped. He didn't bother to hide his substantial erection, and he didn't miss that she licked her lips when she saw it. Damn, this girl. He'd never seen anyone as hungry for cock as she was, and he loved every second of it.
She scooted forward in the bath, and he slid in behind her. The tub was wide enough that he could spread his legs and have her slide in between them. The tub was long, but not quite long enough that she could keep her legs stretched out. She had to bend her knees, and then – either on purpose or not – she let them fall open. If that wasn't an invitation, he didn
't know what was.
He laughed softly in her ear and heard her sigh happily. His hands came around her sides and stroked the bottoms and sides of her tits. She gave a few more happy, light sounds.
"What are you in the mood for, gorgeous?"
"I want to feel good," she replied, her voice soft and warm. She arched against him, letting the small of her back press into his cock. "It's been a long day, and I want to feel good."
"I can make you feel good." He kept one hand on her breast, teasing and torturing her nipple with his fingers; the other hand moved down between her thighs to open her folds and tease her clit. She whimpered and shifted her hips to give him better access.
He could slide into her here; the water took away too much of her natural wetness, and he didn't want to hurt her. He would have to save that for later. What he could do, however, was to tease her clit, flicking and fluttering and twisting. She would come, or she would beg for his mouth, or she'd beg for him to take her to bed. Any of those were just fine with him. He thought this would count for feeling good.
She certainly seemed happy with what was happening. After just a few strokes of his fingers, her breathing was quickening. Her hips shifted against him, and he let out his own hard sound at the feel of her grinding on his cock. She leaned away just enough and rested her hand along his heavy length.
"It's alright," he said, trying to brush her hand away, but she turned and shook her head.
"I want to give you this."
He lifted her then, guiding her around, so she was facing him, sitting on his thighs. He angled them so she could lean back, splaying his hand over her mound and pressing into her clit with his thumb. She couldn't reach him like that, but if she lowered herself enough, his cock was grinding against the length of her clit. He wanted to fuck her until she was screaming, but he would wait. He'd wait, and this felt goddamn good in the meantime.
The extra sensation seemed to be driving her wild. She took over much of the motion, sliding her cunt along his cock and twisting her hips to get his thumb exactly where she wanted it. And she looked incredible. Her eyes were twisted closed, her breasts arched up as she braced on the sides of the tub with her hands. Her hands were white-knuckle tight; he had to assume she was enjoying herself. That, combined with the pressure on his cock had him leaking. The water swept the pre-cum away as soon as it collected, but the feeling of it was still incredible.
He felt her tensing against him, her body tightening over his thighs. She twisted there for a few moments, her body edging along but not tipping over. He'd never thought of her as quiet, groaning and growling and swearing as she came on his cock over and over, but here – here she was wild. She gave out full-throated cries, cursed, and begged him for more. If this were what she was like when she didn't have to be quiet at all, he would soundproof a room for her.
"More," she gasped out. "I need more. Please. Please, more."
There was only one way he could think to give her more. He slid down just a little more in the tub and pulled on her hips until she was kneeling over her face. He didn't give her a moment to come down from the pleasure; he pulled her clit into his mouth at the same time he drove three fingers deep inside of her. She'd caught his head in her hands to balance, and her hands twisted in his hair as she came, hard, screaming.
Her cunt clamped down on his fingers, and she ground into his face, swearing and shouting his name. He was ready when the orgasm released her, and she went limp, guiding her back down to his lap. His cock was aching sore, his balls tight and desperate, but he forced himself to focus on her as he gathered her up and held her, gasping and shaking.
After a few moments, she let out a loose, low laugh. "That felt good," she purred out, and he kissed the top of her head.
"Feel better?"
She reached down and grasped his still very hard cock in her hands. "Starting to. What about you?"
He groaned at the sensation of her hand wrapping around him, and he didn’t even try to hide it. "Depends on whether you're done with your bath."
"Take me to bed, Vincent," she said, leaning down to capture his mouth.
The feel of her against him was incredible. Different, somehow. She pulled the drain on the tub and stood up, pulling him up to her feet. Despite her having told him to take her to bed, she led him there, still holding his hand. She walked to the edge of the bed then turned, putting her arms up and around his neck.
"Do you want me?" Her voice was light and soft, simple, but there was so much more behind the words.
He couldn't say it. The words were in his head, and he told his mouth to move, but it didn't work. He couldn't do it, no matter how much he wanted to. So, he would have to show her.
He pressed his mouth down on hers, his tongue sweeping inside as she groaned, opening up to him again. He pulled her hips to his, relishing the feel of her belly against his heavy, weeping erection. She rolled her hips too, her body soft even in the heat between them.
Vincent pushed her back the one step it took to make her knees hit the edge of the bed. She gave in to him easily, letting him bear her down to the mattress. He followed her, not breaking the kiss, pushing her up the mattress until his knees could fit. Her thighs came apart easily now, and she lifted her hips to take him with a soft sound.
She was wet and open, and there was no resistance as he slid inside of her. But that wasn't the same as feeling loose around him; she was perfectly formed to his big cock, giving just the right amount. He'd never understood the concept of being sheathed in a woman until he'd taken her. Too many of the women he'd fucked had winced away from his cock. She took it so well.
He wanted to rail her until she screamed, but the drive to answer her question in a way that would make sense was even more intense. He forced himself to keep a slow, steady pace that still drove him relentlessly into her, but didn't force him to hold her in place to keep from fucking her right off the bed. She let it go for a few minutes, then wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her heels into his ass.
"You can love me without being all gentle. This isn't what you want. Take what you want."
The permission felt so fucking good that he let himself skid right over the rest of what she'd said. He reared back from the intimate contact and adjusted her hips to the position he knew she loved the most. Lifting her leg up, placing her knee on his shoulder gave him the leverage he needed to drive into her, bottoming out in her sweet cunt. She gave a hard, fast groan as he picked up speed, one hand clawing at the sheets as the other came down between her lips to pluck her cunt like a fancy violin.
She was arching under him in moments, driving his cock even further into her cunt, and he felt the need for release swirling through him. He could feel how close she was, though, and he refused to let her go unfulfilled. Holding back was torture, his balls aching and his cock desperate and swelling with every stroke, but she was gorgeous like this, and he would savor every second of her.
She let go with a long, low cry, driving herself still further down, her body undulating around his cock. He gave himself one moment to enjoy the sight of her coming so very hard, and then it undid him. Pleasure spiraled up his spine, and he spilled deep into her cunt, feeling his cock pulse as her cunt milked him. He managed to hold himself up over her long enough that her body settled down from the intensity of the pleasure, and then all the strength drained out of him.
He collapsed to the side of her so that he wouldn't squish her under his bigger frame, but then he gathered her up in his arms and pulled her close. He pressed a light kiss on her hair and tried to figure out who the fuck he was. Cuddling after sex that he'd tried to make gentle and – was she right? – loving? He didn't know, and his head was too fuzzy from the incredible orgasm to think.
"Fuck, Alina," he managed to say.
She was quiet and still in his arms, and he knew why. Or at least, he was pretty sure. After all, she'd just said that – well, not that she loved him, but she'd certainly put that word in play. She was probabl
y wondering how he would react. Hell, he was still waiting to find out how he was going to react.
"I think we need to talk," she said, and all the tension rushed back into his body.
"Do we really need to?" It was the wrong question, he knew it, and he asked it anyway. It put tension all through her as well, and that was pretty awful. He'd liked it better when she was loose and soft in his arms.
"The thing is, I'm pregnant. You said you were on board with that, and I appreciate that. But what's – I need to know what that's going to look like. At least, what we're trying to make it look like."
Every instinct told Vincent to stand up and walk out of the room. This was the kind of emotional stuff he'd always avoided, and for good reason. He wanted to be a decent guy, at least to women, and what that meant was not letting them think he was offering something he couldn't. It wasn't just the life he led, it was the sheer understanding of who he was, and who he was not. And he wasn't a feelings guy, or stick around and make things better kind of guy. He was just... him.