I wanted to remember this moment and get balls deep inside of her. My tongue took a final lunge in her sweet mouth, tangling with her tongue before retreating.
“I’m going to move you to your side, sweetheart.”
After helping her to her side, facing the camera, I lifted her leg onto my shoulder for a clear shot of her pussy. With one hand curled around her ankle and my palm over my son, I guided myself back into her, watching my cock disappear inside her, feeling my balls slap against her wet flesh, and hearing her moans of pleasure.
“Fuck, you're soaking my cock, Charlotte. Good girl.” I was lost in a haze of need and lust. I pumped my hips incessantly, sliding my hand down to her thigh to grip her.
“Ah, yes. Oooh…Elliot,” she gasped and panted, flinging her head back on the bed.
Sweat beaded on my body as I continued to fuck her until my balls ached for relief. I reluctantly took my palm off her stomach and pressed my fingers against her clit. She immediately rocked her hips toward me, silently begging for more.
“That’s my girl, cum for me,” I coaxed and she does. She came so hard that her pussy clenched down on me.
I held her belly and slammed myself into her, claiming her, claiming them both.
“Mine,” I snarled, fucking her at a brutal pace until my balls tightened and I held myself inside her and shot my cum inside her. “Fuck, yes.”
I closed my eyes as I emptied my balls inside her. I was home.
She was locked in now. There was no escaping me now.
Chapter 8
Elliot
Days turned into weeks, and I practically moved in with her. It began with leaving my toothbrush and a change of clothes for work. Charlotte insisted, of course. My gullible little lamb. But all my planning worked because every night I whispered to my son. Every morning, I kissed her belly.
His nursery was littered with tiny cameras. I wouldn't miss a thing this time. This time, my son would live.
The day came for him to be reborn. Dr Mathers was on duty, and I knew she was diligent, but I watched everyone while soothing Charlotte’s fears. It took time for her labour to begin as they induced her.
I’d prepared her for the long event, and after the first day, her ripe cervix opened the gateway to my son’s arrival. I kissed her hot, damp forehead, helped her sip water, supported her change of position and whispered sweet words of encouragement to her.
When Elias was crowned, and I saw his dark hair, tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away, patiently waiting for my salvation.
The voice was silent. We both knew Elias’s return marked a new beginning—a chance to live again, to smile again—not the false ones from the last four years, but real ones.
Her scream echoed, his cries followed and I slit the umbilical cord with a vengeance. I impatiently waited for him to be wiped down and held my son. A carbon copy of Elias. When his eyes opened for a second, they flashed as they had on the ultrasound. I kissed his forehead, my stubble making him squall before grudgingly passing him to Charlotte.
She cooed and whispered to ‘Ellis’ while I assessed how tired she was, so I could snatch him away again. The staff finished up, and Charlotte was transferred to a private room I’d insisted upon. I allowed them to bond and watched attentively as my son struggled to latch on before he fed hungrily. His mother wept in relief, whispering sweet nothings to him while I watched.
When exhaustion took hold, I kissed her and told her to sleep. I would rub his back and ensure he burped out any excess gas. His body never touched the hospital’s plastic crib. My son’s tiny body remained in my hands, and while she slept, I planned the final phase to reclaim my son.
The numb hollow ache was gone. I sat awake all night, moving only to change and feed ‘Ellis’. When Charlotte was awake, I would visit the bathroom or grab a quick snack. Each time I rushed back, she was in a blissful state.
Time moved quickly, too quickly, but the day came when his eyes emerged. The faint heterochromia yellow ring around his blue eyes was another tool I used on Charlotte when I showed her a picture of Elias’s eyes. She became a believer in fate and worshipped us like we were a new religion.
I rewarded her with a diamond and an orgasm, but I eyed her empty belly with contempt. My son wouldn't be alone this time.
???
Charlotte held my hand as we drove to her father’s house. I’d suggested we surprise her parents with our happy news, but I wanted to stick it to the old hag. I knew by spying on Chloe’s social media accounts that they were getting their bathroom refurbished and had temporarily moved in with the simp and the snake. Ellis snoozed in the back since we timed the drive to his nap time. Within two months, she moved into my house and we got married. The only thing left was her signature on the adoption papers.
“How would you feel if I adopted Ellis?”
“Why not? You already do more than a biological father would.” Her hand squeezed mine. “I can't believe you took a leave of absence to spend time with us.”
I glanced at her, but she was serious.
