by Ava Walsh
Maybe its the pregnancy hormones that are making me so horny — yes, I’m saying it — but I can’t stop myself. I swoop down on his cock like an eagle, mouth open and devour it instantly. With one hand on my own crotch, touching myself, I clutch his cock in the other and massage the base, making the swollen head throb even more. It turns a dark shade of pink as I give it a squeeze, pulling back the foreskin and taking it in my mouth.
He reaches for my hand and removes it from his cock, intertwining his fingers with mine. I feel his other hand on the back of my head, urging me to go deeper. I proceed to take it in, the head of his cock making its way through my lips, across my tongue, hitting my tonsils and fitting itself into my throat. I gag and back off, then proceed to do the same thing again until I can calm my gag reflex. Finally, I have him buried inside my mouth and I can still breathe through my nose.
Inhaling and exhaling through my nose, I hold his cock buried in my mouth and start bobbing my head gently. He moans. “That’s right, keep going, ah…keep doing it.” I follow his command and continue doing it faster, pleasuring him, showering him with the attention he craves. “That’s right, ohhh…yeahhh…do that again.”
I move my head as fast as I can on his cock, matching his now urgent thrusts. “I am coming, I am coming, oh god…jesus…yeahhh.” He empties himself in my mouth and I suck his cock dry of the remaining juices. As he pulls out, I grab his cock again and lick it clean.
“You liked that, didn’t you,” I finally ask.
“Maybe.”
I caress his cock to get him hard again. I have to make sure he doesn’t flee, and I have just figured out how to tether him down. As his flaccid dick springs to life again, I lube it up and straddle him, taking him inside me.
“Now we are going to talk,” I say.
“Really,” he replies, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You wanna talk,” he says, thrusting hard and pushing deep inside me.
“Ahh, easy there! Yes, I want to talk, so just hear me out once and then I’ll leave you be.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, don’t freak out, but I am pregnant,” I tell him. “Those girls were right.”
He flips me and gets on top, his cock impaling me. “You are what?”
“Pregnant,” I say. “It’s early but I am definitely pregnant.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I took a pregnancy test and went to see a doctor.”
“How long have you known?”
“A while,” I say. “Look, I wasn’t sure. With grandma dying and you acting out, I didn’t know where I stood. I get it that you don’t want a child yet, and that’s fine with me, but if I have to choose…”
“Why would you have to choose?”
“As per our discussion earlier, you said something along the lines of me getting my period or an abortion, so it was pretty clear.”
He pulls back completely and I think he is going to flee again, but he doesn’t. He holds me tight and thrusts hard. “You. Are. An. Idiot.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, his hands twisting my swollen nipples.
“Why, what do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says, pulling me up again and holding my hands. “I wouldn’t have made you choose.”
“I am still not sure what you are trying to say,” I say, as he pumps me hard.
“I don’t mind having a baby if it is with the right person,” he says.
“Am I the right person?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “You could be, but I am not so sure anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Valnoir, just give me a straight answer. Are we a thing or not?”
“I can’t answer that,” he says. I hope he is joking, but the expression on his face is pretty serious. I hold his hand and press it to my stomach. “Inside me is our baby. Not just mine, not just yours, but ours. We made it together. I have been through a lot of shit and I have survived. So, whether you are in or out, I am keeping the baby and it’ll survive.”
“This is exactly why I am not sure,” he says. “Your thinking is warped and you completely twist things. I just need some time.”
“Because of the baby?” I ask.
“No, because of you. Sometimes you are affectionate but then you turn cold suddenly. You ignore me and shut me out, and then you start chasing me. I can’t keep up with that.”
“I only did that because I am in love with you,” I tell him, pressing my lips to his. I push my tongue inside his mouth and he sucks it in. When he lets go, I tell him, “I am afraid of losing you. I thought maybe playing hard to get would keep you interested in me. You are the best thing that has happened to me in my whole life…and I don’t even know where I stand with you or what I mean to you.”
“Why would I chase a girl if I weren’t interested in her?” he says. “I just didn’t know it until you gave me the cold shoulder. I have been afraid to admit that you are the one for me.”
“Oh god,” I say. “Honestly, we are both so stupid. Why didn’t you just say something?”
“Well, now it’s all cleared up,” he says, clutching my sides and speeding up. His body tenses and his cock pulses inside me as he climaxes. I shudder as I orgasm, our juices mixing inside me.
“So, what happens next?”
“Are you going to stay here or leave?”
“Hasn’t Viktor told you?” I ask.
“No, he never bothers with telling me anything.”
“He asked me if I would stay here, and I said yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand being away from you. When you weren’t talking to me, staying was the best option to keep myself closer to you. And now that we are talking, I have all the more reason to stay. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He doesn’t answer. He just pulls me in for another passionate kiss, tonguing my mouth and ears, going closer to my neck. Nibbling at my ear lobe, he pauses for a second and then sinks his teeth into me.
It stings but it feels nice knowing it is him. I get a whirling sensation as he sucks my blood, tasting me in the most intimate of ways.
“What…are you doing to me?”
He continues sucking my blood and the high gets overwhelming. I pass out. When I wake up I have a strange feeling. I wonder if he has turned me into a vampire. I feel cold and dead, yet fast and energetic.
“You are up,” he says, when he sees me leaving the room. There is blood on the side of his mouth.
“Have you turned me into a vampire too?”
“No, why would I do that? It will kill our child.”
Relief washes over me as I hear the words ‘our child’ coming from his mouth. This is my new beginning. This is my new chance. This is what I have waited for all my life.
Chapter Twelve - Valnoir
8 Months Later - Thursday
“I feel bloated and fat,” Lola says.
“You look beautiful to me,” I reassure her.
“Look at me, look at this. God, I hate this. And my back is sore, my lips are swollen, my —”
Pouring honey lotion on my hands, I massage her shoulders and back. “Does that feel better?” She leans back her head, tensing her neck muscles, then lets go. “Yeah, that feels good.”
I massage her back and make my way to the front, moisturizing her very pregnant belly. “Look away,” she tells me. “I am fat and ugly.”
Propping a pillow on the bed, I gently push her on her back. “You are sexy as fuck,” I tell her again. And it’s true. Pregnancy really suits her. Her tits have grown to twice their size, her ass bounces when she walks. And every time I look at her, I want to be inside her. Every. Fucking. Time.
Kneading her tender breasts softly with my hands, sucking on her nipples, I find it hard not to push myself inside her. The temptation takes over me and I am about to take off my pants when she pees on the bed.
“Jesus, run to the bathroom. You are peeing on the bed!”
She looks at me, confused. “I think
my water just broke.”
Before we can figure out what’s really happening, there’s a contraction. She grabs my hair and pulls hard with all her might, screaming, “TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!”
I go and get my mother and Lady Mary and ask them what to do. Lola is screaming her lungs out every 20 seconds.
“It’s too sunny outside,” Lady Mary says. “We can’t take her to the hospital.”
“We can just send her with one of the humans,” my mother suggests.
“She’s not going anywhere without me. We have had births here before, we are prepared,” I tell them.
“I’ll call the doula and the midwife,” Lady Mary says, and disappears with a whoosh.
“Come on, dear, let’s get you ready,” my mother says, helping Lola up. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
As time passes, things get more painful and Lola continues screaming at me. She holds my hand so tight I feel like my wrist is going to snap. The midwife arrives and the doula offers to take over for me, but Lola refuses to let me go. She is sweating like a sponge being squeezed, her breath is labored and the midwife is telling her to push.
“I can’t,” she pants. “I can’t do it.”
“Lola, listen to me. You are strong. You want this. You can do this,” I say.
“Push, now!” the midwife urges.
“Come on, my dear, you can do this,” my mother whispers at her side. “Push, honey.”
“Lola, PUSH!”
She screams like a siren and pushes, and the screams turn into cries as a baby is born.
“It’s a girl,” Victoria says, materializing out of nowhere with a clap.
“We have a girl! Oh, I am so happy,” Lady Mary says. “I am a grandmother.”
The midwife wraps the baby in a blanket and hands her to me, telling me how to hold her and everything. When I look at her, I see myself and Charlotte reflected in her. I go over to Lola to show her our daughter, but she’s already asleep.
“She’s not breathing,” the midwife says.
“Give me the baby, see to Lola,” Victoria says, rushing to my side and taking the baby. I sink my teeth into Lola’s wrist in a last-ditch effort to not lose her. I feel a faint pulse as I deliver the fatal bite to push her through death and bring her back on the other side.
The baby cries for her mother as everybody stands around the dead body in a stunned silence. I hold my breath, my eyes fixed on Lola’s chest, looking for any sign of life. There is none. Tears form in my eyes and they are about to pour our when she slowly opens her eyes.
“I’m thirsty,” she croaks hoarsely. “What’s going on?”
Victoria brings the baby to her. “You just delivered a baby, congratulations! And you died, but now you are back, so welcome to the undead.”
Lola looks at me, puzzled. “I’ll explain it later. You were dying or something, so I had to turn you. But now you are back, so it’s all cool.” She’s still dazed, but whether it’s the bite or the birth, I can’t tell. Either way, it is the perfect time to ask her something that I have been wanting to ask.
I pull out the box from my pocket, open it and kneel by her bedside. “You are seriously going to do this right here, right now?” Lola whines.
“Oh, shut up and just say yes already,” I say.
“Ask properly!”
“My dear Lola, love of my life, mother of my child and newly turned vampire companion, will you marry me and be my wife for an eternity in this world?”
“You’re pathetic,” she says. “Come here and kiss me. Yes! Yes! I have waited so long for you to ask this.”
“I love you.”
“Okay, okay, enough of the drama,” Victoria says. “What name have you decided on for the baby?”
We haven’t decided any name, because we didn’t know what we were expecting. We wanted a surprise. But the second I saw her, I knew what the perfect name for her was.
“Charlotte,” Lola and I say in unison. “Charlotte?” we repeat, looking at each other.
“You like the name too,” I say, gazing at Lola.
“Oh, it’s the perfect name, Valnoir!”
“Okay, now I want everyone to leave so I can have my wife and baby to myself for a while.”
“Just this once,” Victoria says. “I won’t let you keep my niece away from me again.”
“I won’t ask again,” I promise.
As the door closes behind Victoria, I realize I don’t just have a new member in my family, but a new family altogether. Everything has fallen into place like pieces in a puzzle.
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 15: The Billionaire Gorilla's Baby
By: T.S. Ryder
Description
A curvy thief caught red-handed PLUS a hot billionaire who wants to make a deal PLUS a dangerous secret and an attack
Scarlett Brenan does not steal. She's an acquisitionist. Stealing would imply she was taking things that could not be replaced, and that sort of behavior would be extremely ungentlewomanly.
Yes, some still would call it stealing and she does have the moniker of the 'Gentlewoman Thief' in the newspapers, but she would never take anything from someone who didn't already have far more than they needed. Besides, she makes a point of redistributing her acquired wealth, so really she is in charitable work.
Only one person, her mentor, knows of Scarlett's humanitarian efforts… until she is caught by billionaire Maximillian Barnes in his safe.
Scarlett is certain her career is over until the handsome billionaire makes a deal with her. If she'll pretend to be his mysterious fiancée for one year, he'll give her whatever it is she wants and introduce her to his grossly rich friends for her future endeavors.
But what starts as simple play-acting becomes far too real far too quickly… and Scarlett discovers a secret Max has been hiding for years that might just ruin the game.
To make matters worse, somebody else out there knows Scarlett's identity, and that someone wants her dead.
Chapter One
Sounds of piano music and laughter wafted up the grand marble staircase to the fifth room on the right. Inside this particular room, a light breeze blew lace curtains in lazy circles while moonlight drifted through the window, shining directly into the room-sized wall safe. Jeweled necklaces, cufflinks and other trinkets sparkled in the wan light.
Scarlett fixed a silver tiara on her head, admiring the way the pale metal contrasted with her dark hair. It was something she would very much like to take with her. She smiled as she imagined herself in a fancy dress wearing the tiara, like a princess out of a fairy-tale movie. Her fingers ran across necklaces and glittering, delicate rings left on the safe shelves.
Why would a man like Maximillian Barnes have so much women's jewelry? He hadn't been seen photographed with a woman other than his elderly housekeeper in nearly five years, since the tragic death of his parents. Although he claimed to have a fiancée somewhere, the lack of evidence provided by the media indicated that this fiancée was just a fabrication.
Which could only mean that the necklaces and tiaras must have belonged to his mother.
With a sigh, Scarlett set the tiara back on its stand, running her gloved hand over the large center ruby one last time. It was truly a work of art. No, she would leave the tiara. Even though she was certain it was insured for at least its monetary worth, if it belonged to Barnes' mother it would hold sentimental value, and she did not help herself to things that could not be replaced. If she took it, she'd have to destroy it if she meant to sell it, anyway.
What she would take, however, were the stacks of bearer bonds in the safe. There had to be two million dollars' worth there, carelessly stuffed into the corner of the safe. They were hardly sentimental. Given that Barnes pulled in an estimated five billion annually, he wouldn't even miss this two million. He'd have gotten it back by the end of the week. Plenty of people out there deserved it more.
Somebody new took over the piano downstairs, and Scarlett
wrinkled her nose at the change of song. They were playing a 'modern' version of Mozart's Piano Sonata Number 3.
Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. In her opinion, the classics ought to remain classics. This player was destroying all the complexity of the score, simplifying it for the repetitious strain of current pop music. It was enough to drive a gentlewoman to distraction.
And distracted she was.
She didn't hear the approaching footfalls on the carpet in the corridor outside, didn't see the hulking shadow lurking in the door. But he saw her.
When the light flicked on and she turned to see Maximillian Barnes standing in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face, Scarlett was not afraid of being caught. Rather, she was upset with herself. If she was allowing her patrons to walk in on her while she worked, well, she was becoming too cocky. Arrogance was not attractive in a gentlewoman.
And it certainly didn't help her current situation.
"Whoever is butchering Mozart down there ought to be shot," she told the billionaire, emphasizing her southern drawl as she slid her bag, packed with her tools and acquisitions, onto her back. When people heard her accent, they generally thought she was stupid. And when people thought she was stupid, it was easier to get away with things. She kept her tone light and conversational. "I simply can't stay any longer and listen to that travesty. Goodnight to you, sir."
With a smile and a wave, Scarlett darted to the window. She was fast–faster than she looked. Because her figure showed just how much she enjoyed cupcakes and hamburgers, people assumed that she was heavy-footed, slow and clumsy, the stereotypical 'fat girl' who couldn't possibly do things like scale a two-floor wall or leap between houses. They assumed wrong, though, and that usually worked to her advantage.