Her nails dig into my back, leaving a trail of fire. Her breath comes in little gasps, a frantic rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart. “Don’t pull out,” she says. “Don’t you dare pull out.”
“I won’t. I’m going to come inside you. I want to fill your pussy with come, then do it again.”
“Yes. God, yes. Deeper.”
I fuck her harder. Faster. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, her eyes locked on mine like she wants to burn this moment into her soul.
“You want a baby?” I growl, one hand sliding down to press over her lower belly.
“More than anything.”
“Everyone will know you’re mine.”
“Yes—Damon, please—”
She’s close. I can feel it in the way she tightens around me, in the way her hips arch, desperate for more. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and the only sound is the slap of our bodies and her ragged breathing.
“Come for me, baby. Milk it out of me.”
She shatters beneath me with a sob, crying out my name as her muscles clench tight, pulling me under with her. I slam in once more, deep as I can go, and empty into her. Hot, thick, endless. I swear I come so hard I black out for a second. I stay buried inside her, hips twitching, not willing to leave her body yet. Not willing to give up this one goddamn moment where the world doesn’t matter. Where it’s just us.
She strokes my jaw, her touch feather-light. “I want to wake up pregnant.”
I kiss her shoulder, the salty taste of her skin on my lips. “Maybe you will. Though we won’t know for a while.”
“Think we made a baby?”
I pull out slowly, watching my come leak out of her onto the sheets. I push it back in with two fingers. “We will. And if we didn’t just now—” I slide back inside her, half-hard but growing. “We’re trying again.”
She’s still panting, sweat slicking her thighs. She groans softly, a mix of exhaustion and excitement. “You’re serious?”
I grab her chin and tilt her face toward mine. “You said you wanted this. You said you wanted to wake up pregnant.”
“I do. I want to make sure this works.”
“Then flip over and put your ass in the air.”
I position her on her knees, a pillow under her. “Want to see which position gets it in deepest.”
She laughs. “Never thought fucking would be so clinical.”
“This is war, baby. Nothing clinical about it. I’m going to fill you with so much come, your womb will have no choice but to make a baby.”
I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, and slide back in. She’s tighter from this angle. Hotter. The view of her ass bouncing against my hips is enough to make my head spin.
“Jesus—this feels…” she moans. “Feels deeper.”
“Yeah?” I slam into her, hard. “You feel me going deep?”
She cries out, nodding furiously. “God, yes. Damon, it’s—fuck—it’s perfect.” Her back arches, and I drag one hand up her spine, pressing down between her shoulder blades until she sinks lower, cheek against the mattress, ass high in the air.
“Even better,” I growl. “You were made for this.”
I don’t stop. I take her hard, chasing that second release. She tightens around me like she wants to rip it out of me with her body alone. She glances back, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted. “Want me to try on top?”
“You want to ride me?”
She nods. “Might go deeper. Angle’s different.”
