Squealing as he lifts me up, I’m thankful he has no issues following directions. He sets me down and bends me over the couch. Spreading my legs, I’m rewarded by feeling him slide into me with more force than he has before.
“One of these days,” he murmurs as he bends forward to kiss my neck and rubs my asshole with his thumb, “you’ll give me this.”
I’ve thought about it. I really have, but I’ve never been interested in trying it. But Zeppelin has made me re-evaluate a lot of my boundaries, and he’s constantly teasing and testing them with positive outcomes.
“Prove you mean what you say, and I’ll consider it,” I say, hissing when he presses with more pressure.
“Baby, I’ll prove I mean everything and more,” he promises. “But like you said, we have plenty of time for everything else.”
He grabs my wrists and pulls them behind my back, holding me at a ninety-degree angle while he thrusts with impressive speed. It’s so tight that I feel every inch of him moving inside of my pussy, and I feel my legs start to shake.
“You feel so fucking good, Misty,” he gris out. “I want to do this every day for the rest of my life.”
The rest of his life. It gives me reassurance he really does see a future with us. That we’re permanent in his life.
“I want to let you,” I say, my words slurring like I’m drunk.
Love drunk.
The way this man takes me is intoxicating. My brain shuts down as I focus on the pleasure he brings me. He has me so high I never want to come down, and while it frightens me, it also excites me. I’ve never craved anything like I do him.
Besides being pregnant. Fuck those cravings.
“When you talk like that, it’s hard to stay in control,” he murmurs.
He’s holding back his release. I know it because he always wants me to come first, and right now, it’s a struggle. It’s a bit empowering to know his pleasure is dependent on my own.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, my legs shaking as I clamp down on his cock still slamming into me. “Zep, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The normal build up to the climax didn’t happen. Or maybe I’m just too distracted by thoughts of us as a family to notice the signs.
“Fuck, Misty,” he shouts before filling me.
It’s the first time we’ve gone without a condom, and that’s when I realize why it felt so different. Better.
Then comes the thoughts of having Zep’s baby. And the panic that it doesn’t scare me works its way up into my chest. Because that means I’m not falling in love with him anymore. I’minlove. Completely and utterly lost in it.
And the last time I was in love I got burned.
But Zep would be different. I can see it in the way he is with Bernie. He wouldn’t walk away. He’d be there. Even if we didn’t work out, he’d never leave me to raise our child alone.
If only the truth about my feelings didn’t paralyze me with fear like they do.
Chapter 23
Zeppelin
Misty’s weight on me as we lie on the couch is better than any gimmicky weighted blanket out there. My heart swells as I feel a happiness unlike anything before.
We’re doing this. We’re really doing this. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been this happy.
“I have to go get Bernie from your mom’s salon,” Misty says, her lips kissing my chest.
I love how her arm drapes over my body, our legs tangled together, and her head rests on my chest.
Just as I’m about to disagree, my phone chimes. I reach for it without disturbing Misty and open it to see a text from Jethro.
JETRO: Shipment coming
