Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“You’re not coming yet,” I tell her as I grab her waist.
Before she can ask me why, I turn and push her onto her back on the couch. Her hair fans out underneath her like a crown, with stray stands sticking to her sweaty forehead.
I take a fistful of her hair and fucks into her deep. “I can fuck you harder like this,” I growl, using my cock as punishment as I stab into her.
Grace’s hands clutch at my back, her nails dragging down my skin. “Oh my God.”
“Whose pussy is this?” I ask, rubbing her clit with my finger as her moans grow higher in pitch.
“Yours, Sir,” she says.
“Does it belong to anyone else?”
“No, Sir. You’re the only one. You own my pussy,” she says feverishly, her hips raising up off the couch to meet my thrusts.
“Why is that?”
Grace frowns in concentration, looking as though she’s thinking hard.
When no words come out of her open mouth, I pull her hair. “Tell me why your pussy is mine.”
“Because . . . Because everything belongs to you, Sir.”
“Good answer, kitten,” I whisper.
Letting go of her hair, I grip her hips and pull her onto my cock as I thrust, again and again, driving us both to the brink of madness.
Grace looks beautiful. So fucking sexy.
Her tits rock up and down to the rhythm of my fucking, her face frozen in lustful concentration. She clutches at my forearms when she goes over the edge, losing control of her own body as she turns into a shuddering heap of orgasms.
I’ve never seen anything hotter. I’ve never felt more powerful. I explode in a violent orgasm, my cock pulsing deep inside her, filling her with my cum.
If I’m lucky, maybe Grace will get pregnant again. And this time, I intend to be there to watch my child grow up.
We have time. Now that Grace is mine, we have time.
I lay my head down beside her and breathe in the scent of her hair. I whisper in her ear, “Tell me you’re coming home with me, kitten.”
All I can hear is our breaths as we lie together with limbs entangled. My heart pounds against her side. The mother of my child.
I’m a father. The knowledge fills me with joy and trepidation. I’m responsible for a little man’s well-being. Me.
I’ll be the best fucking father I can be; that much I know. I’ll do anything to be a man worthy of this little family. I can see the three of us at home, Jack running to the front door when I come home from work while Grace is working on dinner.
“Tell me you’re coming home with me,” I repeat. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of how good things can be, I’m never letting them go.
To my relief, Grace nods. “I’m coming home with you. But give me some time.”
I pull her into my arms as my lips curve up into a smile. I’ve never known life to be this happy. “I love you, kitten.”
Grace
“I love you, kitten,” Matteo said last night with his dick still buried in my pussy and his cum leaking out of me.
After that grand declaration, I closed my eyes and pretended I was so exhausted I couldn’t keep a conversation flowing.
Cowardly, I know. I should’ve said something . . . but what?
My heart thumps inside my rib cage. I can’t deny the feelings wreaking havoc in my chest, but everything’s moving so fast my head’s spinning.
I force my eyes to focus on the screen of my laptop. I’m supposed to be working on an e-book cover, and I have the file open in a window, but it’s at the bottom of the stack. What I’m actually staring at is an articles in a parenting website.
In red font, the title reads “5 Ground Rules for Introducing Your Child to Someone Special.”
I’ve strained my eyes so hard they’re starting to water. Having gone through about ten pages of search results on Google, I’m still nowhere closer to the truth.
This is a subject rife with controversy—it’s pretty much up there with breastfeeding and sex education.
Everybody’s got an opinion. But nobody’s got real, solid answers.
Wilma, for example, a columnist with blonde waves and bright blue eyes, staring at me with judgment from her little bio box, says that she waits for at least one year before deeming a relationship stable enough for her children to even be aware of her boyfriend’s existence.
On another website, a redhead, named Autumn, says she introduces her “special friends” to her kids right away but always in casual settings.
“It’s just like meeting other kids’ parents in the park. The kids can get to know my grown-up friend a little bit and then go home without ever getting upset that they’ll never see that particular friend again.” According to Autumn, these casual introductions provide the perfect low-stakes environment to figure out whether the new boyfriend meshes with the kids.