I also know this isn’t just a fucking, it’s a claiming. It’s Baz’s substantiation. It’s our consummation.
Baz forges a path farther into my channel than he ever has before. He pushes past the breaking point, finally penetrating the bubble that’s entombed within me. It spontaneously pops, and I clutch the comforter rigidly as I cry out,“I’m yours. God, I’m all fucking yours.”My words are barely intelligible, but I know Baz can decipher them.
“Fuck, yes, mine.” He drives his cock implausibly deep as my pussy pulsates all around him. It’s like an alarm is sounding in my womb.
“Christ, Stevie.” He grabs one of my breasts as he comes strenuously. His grunts and groans reverberating through my body like an electric current. “Holy shit.” Baz continuously squeezes my breast like a stress ball until he empties his entire release inside me.
Resting his head on my back, we both slowly recover. Fused together at the hips, he presses passionate, wet kisses up my spine, following the trail of my tattoo across my shoulder blades.
It’s so sensual and intimate and arduous.
“Your angel of death, huh?” I ask, tucked securely beneath Baz.
“An angels an angel.” He strums the side of my round belly, firm in his beliefs.
For Baz, as long as I’m his, I’ll be any kind of angel he wants.
A sharp pain yanks me out of a deep sleep.
“Oh, shit!” I roll over into the fetal position and clutch my abdomen.
“Stevie?” Baz pops up off his pillow.“What’s wrong?”
“I’m having pains. Bad pains.”
“Should I call the doctor?” He’s overtly worried.
“Maybe.” I breathe heavily, in and out, until the coiling tightness subsides. Once it’s gone, I relax, rolling over onto my back. That’s when I feel it. Fluid drenching the sheets and the inside of my thighs.
“Baz.” I sit up. “I think my water just broke.”
“What?” He tosses off the sheet and reveals the huge wet stain. “Shit.” He flies out of bed just as another contraction comes on.
“Fuck!” I fall back onto the mattress, seizing in pain. It’s so intense I almost throw up.
Baz paces the room as he talks to Dr. Miranda. It’s nearly five in the morning.
“Contractions? How far apart?” He looks over at me, completely lost.
“Close!” I hiss as the pain begins to subside. “I just had two in two minutes.”
“Every two minutes . . . Okay. Bye.” Baz chucks the phone on one of the sitting room chairs and returns to me. “She’s on her way. She’s calling Levinstein, too.”
“Okay, good.” I catch my breath.
“She’s early,” he voices, scared out of his mind.
“You fucked me so hard last night you induced labor.”
“You think?” He actually has the audacity to look smug.
“I read it could happen. Fuck!” Another contraction hits, and there’s ungodly pressure between my legs. I squeeze Baz’s hand and scream.
“Jesus, Stevie, you’re going to wake the whole house.”
And that’s just what I did, cause seconds later, Gianni, Frederick, Bull, Gun, and Desmond all rush into the room. Gun and Bull both have their weapons drawn. Thank God I pulled Baz’s T-shirt on before I fell asleep last night or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.
“She’s in labor,” Baz tells them with his hand protectively out. “Her water broke. Miranda is on her way.”
