I’ve lost my mind even considering this. But I can’t turn him down. If he’s wrong and we have zero chemistry, we’ll prove that quickly and go on with our lives. I’m not some kind of prude who’s saving herself for marriage. That was never the reason I abstained. It was a simple lack of interest in anyone I’ve ever met.
Until now. Until Brody.
What if he’s right, and our sex is off the charts? I certainly don’t want to wonder what-if for the rest of my life. I fully realize that I don’t need his erection inside me to know if we’ll be good together. He can accomplish that with his mouth or his fingers. I’ve proven I can orgasm with a number of clitoral stimulators that never offered me penetration.
“I have a question,” Brody says while I’m still pondering my options.
I tip my head to one side. “Okay.”
“Are you on any form of birth control?”
I sigh. “No. I’ve never had a reason to be. If you want to have sex without a condom, you’re going to have to wait until I have a chance to sort that out with Kinsley.”
He shakes his head. “Baby…”
I stiffen. “Brody…” I groan.
“No birth control, little pixie. We fuck raw and often. I want to see you round with my child as soon as possible.”
We’re essentially on our first date, and yet somehow we’re negotiating every fucking thing imaginable including kids. I shake my head on that. “I’m too young. I’m at the prime of my career. Babies suck the life out of people. I’m not willing to slow my career so I can feed a baby in the middle of the night.”
“Melody, I’ll never put the responsibility all on you. In fact, the main reason why I have no interest in staying here in Wilde is that I don’t need the inheritance. I make good money. I’ve saved it for twenty-five years, working hard and barely spending it. I can and will take care of you lavishly. We’ll get a nanny. Two if we need. I will also stop working so much. My business is solid. It can run itself. I’ll hire a manager so I can be home with you and our kids.”
It’s hard to hear what he’s saying over the ringing in my ears. He’s so fucking serious about this. And he has an answer for everything.
He leans over the island so far that he can practically touch me. “If you need your beauty rest, I’ll pump your milk before bed and feed our babies while you sleep.”
I jump clear off the floor. The only thing grounding me is my hands on the edge of the island. My heart is racing. It’s not just what he suggested but the way he worded it. He didn’t say I could pump some milk so he could feed our babies—plural. He said he would do it.
He smiles. “The idea makes you wet, doesn’t it, little pixie?”
I squeeze my thighs together. Damn him.
He leans even farther. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you? You on your hands and knees hooked up to a powerful breast pump while I control the dials and empty your heavy tits. You can feel it now, can’t you? The suction. The way your nipples will elongate and thicken more every time I milk you. I’ll help you establish a strict schedule so your body will learn to let down frequently during the day so you can sleep at night. When you wake up engorged in the morning, I’ll be there to milk you again, just enough to take the edge off so our babies can nurse.”
I’m not sure when I last breathed. My traitorous boobs feel ten times heavier than before. My nipples are so fucking hard they actually hurt.
I can’t possibly respond to that speech. Instead, I latch on to the part about him taking care of me. “Just so you know, I make good money, too. I may be young, but I have my own nest egg. I’ve made sure to save the majority of what I earn every month for the future. I never know when people might decide they don’t want to read my books anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re so successful, baby. I’m proud of you, and I will always support you and your career. I will never ask you to stop or take time off when it’s not convenient. But I will provide for you. You can put your income in bonds or invest it.”
This man is so multifaceted. It’s hard to keep up with all of them. He’s both sweet and dominating. He’s bossy and also soft. He keeps surprising me at every turn.
We stare at each other for a long time. The only sound is that of my heart beating hard in my ears.
“Do we have a deal?” he finally asks softly.
“I’ve lost track of what we agreed upon,” I admit.
“I get one week to prove to you that you can’t live without me. I get every moment of your time, except when you’re working or sleeping. You won’t go on birth control. Next Saturday, I’m going to ask you to marry me, and you’re not going to hesitate. One week after that, we’ll get married at the mansion.”
I gasp. “Brody. That wasn’t in the negotiations.”
He shrugs. “I just added it in. Two weeks from today you’ll be my wife, and I’ll slide my bare cock into you. If I’m lucky, you’ll be pregnant before we finish honeymooning.”
It’s hard to believe any of this is happening. I figure if he truly proves he’s a hero from one of my books, why would I not want to marry him and keep him in my bed for the rest of my life? I do hesitate at the thought of getting pregnant so fast, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Claire and Reagan are pregnant. Arianna probably is, too. She just doesn’t know for sure yet.
The visions he painted of him milking me… Holy fuck. That’s fucking hot. I should be horrified, and in some ways, I am, but fuck me.
