I am suddenly lightheaded with the way the blood leaves my head and flows directly into my dick. “Uh oh,” I rasp out. “You’re in big trouble, Annie.”
Annie realizes what I’m rubbing and shivers. “If you want, later,” she starts. I hear her swallow. “You can—” but she cannot finish because I’ve got my fist in her hair and my tongue down her throat.
She pulls away once she feels my hand sneaking down the front of her bathing suit. “Nico,” she sighs.
“What?”
“Think of the children,” she laughs.
My mind becomes static as I try to parse all the information now zooming in loop-de-loops through my brain.No children; that’s the point of the implant. I’m going to come in Annie Who is Now Mine Li. I can mark you from the inside. Fill you up, drive it in, let it drip. Do you want kids? Will you bear my children? Should I rip the implant out with my teeth? What the hell is happening to me?And then,Do I have a breeding kink?!And last and most alarming,No, just a “pumping Annie Li full of my come” kink.So… yes?
She clears her throat.
My eyes refocus.
Annie is looking at me with concern. “There are kids swimming over there,” she says slowly.
“Yes,” I solemnly nod. I shake my head to get rid of the insanity and resume my task.
“You brought me sunscreen because I mentioned it several weeks ago,” Annie mumbles after a while.
“Yep.” I move onto her chest. “You might not be used to people taking care of you, honey, but that’s just ‘cause you hadn’t met me yet.”
“Nico, we grew up together.”
“I amend. You hadn’t decided that you liked me yet.”
“I hate you.”
I land a sharp slap to her clit again, loving the whimper that leaves her throat. “Lie.”
I don’t see it but I know she’s smiling, especially when she relaxes in my arms and lets me fuckin’ take care of her.
I suddenly cannot breathe. The oxygen up all the way up here on Mount Olympus is pretty thin.
“Do you write anything else?” I ask after getting all her visible skin covered.
“Hmm?”
I plant a kiss on the side of her neck. “Do you write for fun?”
“Yeah,” she rumbles. “Poetry.”
“Any of that published?”
“No.”
“Can I read some of it?”
“No.”
“No matter,” I reply, unbothered. “I’ll make you read it to me while I go down on you later.”
We watch the sun glittering on the lake, still playing with each other’s hands.
“So… ghostwriting.” I ask. “Why’d you start?”
Annie doesn’t answer immediately. She shifts her weight on my lap.
