“You'd look so fucking perfect,” he continues, one hand moving to press against my lower belly. “Swollen with my baby. Everyone would know who you belong to.”
“Beckham,” I whimper, my walls clenching around him at thefilthy words.
“You want that?” He thrusts up brutally, making me cry out. “Want me to breed this pussy? Make you mine forever?”
“Yes,” I admit, the word torn from my throat. “Fuck yes.”
His eyes darken to nearly black. “Say it,” he demands, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want your cum,” I pant, my filter completely gone. “Want you to fill me up. Put your baby in me. I wanna make you a daddy.”
He flips us suddenly, pinning me beneath him without breaking our connection. His weight presses me into the mattress as he hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, opening me wider.
“Gonna fuck you so deep,” he promises, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. “Gonna make sure it takes. Fuck your birth control.”
I'm beyond words now, just desperate moans and pleas falling from my lips as he pounds into me. The new angle has him hitting spots that make my toes curl and my back arch.
“Wanna tie you to me so you can never fucking leave,” he growls, his rhythm growing erratic. “Want to watch you ride my cock with that belly all round and full. And you know what?”
“What?” I gasp, feeling my orgasm approaching like a freight train.
“I'll let you fucking decorate for every holiday,” he promises, his voice strained. “Christmas, Easter, fucking Arbor Day—I don't care. Just as long as you're mine.”
The thought of Beckham—stoic, grumpy Beckham Kingston—surrounded by holiday decorations just to keep me happy pushes me right to the edge.
Beckham lowers his head, his mouth latching onto my nipple. He sucks hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before biting down just enough to make me jolt beneath him.
“Fuck,” he growls against my breast, his cock still jackhammering into me. “Can't wait to see these full of milk. Gonna suck them dry every night when you're carrying my baby.”
The filthy words hit me like a lightning bolt, and I'm coming instantly—my pussy clamping down on him so tight he hisses through his teeth. My back arches off the bed as pleasure rips through me, tearing a scream from my throat.
“That's it,” Beckham groans, his rhythm faltering. “Squeeze my fucking dick.”
His hips stutter, brows furrow as he pulses inside me. He doesn’t stop, just keeps thrusting, grinding his pelvis against mine.
“Gotta get it all in there,” he pants, his face twisted with pleasure. “Push it right into your cervix.”
His strong hands grab my thighs, pushing them wider until I'm completely spread open for him. The position is obscene, vulnerable, and so fucking hot I can barely breathe.
“Need you open like this,” he growls, staring down at where we're connected.
His thumb finds my clit, mercilessly flicking it as he continues pumping his hips. I'm oversensitive, every nerve ending on fire, but the pain-pleasure is addictive.
“Give me another one,” he demands, pressing harder on my clit. “Want your pussy to suck up every drop of my cum. Your body knows what it needs.”
“I can't,” I whimper, my thighs trembling uncontrollably. “Too much?—”
“You can,” he insists, his voice brooking no argument. “And you will. Come on my cock again, Hennessy.”
His fingers work magic while his dick continues its relentless assault on my G-spot. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, and I feel another orgasm building impossibly fast.
“That's it,” he encourages, watching my face contort. “Feel yourself getting tighter? It's trying to pull me deeper.”
“Fuck, Beckham,” I sob, my nails leaving crescents in his shoulders. “I'm gonna?—”
The second orgasm hits even harder than the first. My vision blurs, spots dancing behind my eyelids as pleasure tears through me like a hurricane.
Beckham groans, his head dropping to my shoulder as he grins. His weight pins me to the mattress in the most satisfying way.
