18. Rip the dress
EIGHTEEN
RIP THE DRESS
TROY
The rule in the Angelini household states that kids get to stay up extra late during birthdays. Kids also get to have all the cake they can eat without throwing up. Needless to say, Leo walked away at ten o’clock, rubbing his tummy.
I had a great time as well, and I make sure Valerina knows what it means to me to have been welcomed in such a way. She’s a nice person and an easy conversationalist, while her brother is an alpha male you can depend on to handle any type of situation, especially the critical ones. I can see why Shark trusts him.
In the bedroom, I slip off my flip-flops and wiggle my swollen toes. I don’t know why I’m swelling so much today. I worry my lip between my teeth.
Shark immediately picks up on my mood. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m wondering why I’m swelling. I think this is supposed to happen later in the pregnancy, not now.”
“You can ask Tatiana when you see her.”
“Will you come with me?”
He seems surprised by my question. “I can tell you that I will, but that is a promise I can’t make because my attendance depends on my work schedule and how events unfold tomorrow.”
I feel a pang in my chest. Disappointment stings, but I shrug as if it doesn’t matter. “That’s fine.”
Shark narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” I turn away from him and search the drawers for pajamas. I find a stack of large cotton T-shirts and take one, flinging it toward the bed. It lands on the mattress.
As I start to undo the zipper on the dress, Shark picks up the T-shirt and puts it back into the drawer.
“I’ll get you another shirt to sleep in,” he says.
“Is there something wrong with this one?”
“It’s not mine.”
Shark watches me, his gaze intense. I refocus on the zipper of my dress, which I’m having trouble with. “You’re not allowed to say things like that after you refuse to accompany me to the first checkup with the baby. The baby and I are a whole package. You can’t have one without the other.”
Agile fingers take over the zipper.
Agitated, I move away.
Shark tucks his hands into his pockets. “I would rather say no than make a promise I can’t keep.”
I fuss with the stupid zipper. “I don’t know why you have to be so reasonable either.”
“It comes with age,” he says.
I suppress a smile even though I’m still struggling with the dress.
When I move away from him, he doesn’t pursue me even though I wish he would. I wish he would try to unzip the dress again so I could tell him no and move away again. I could pretend to be mad at him so he could chase after me. That just tells me how much I like this man.
But Shark is careful with me, careful when I say no or retreat from him. I can appreciate that. Yet, mixed signals won’t help us navigate our complex relationship, so I step closer, gesturing at the zipper. “I don’t want to rip it.”
Shark takes over, a warm presence behind me. “The fabric is caught.”
A moment later, he lowers the zipper, and the dress loosens around me. I face him and look up. His chestnut eyes appear black in this space lit only by a small night light on his side of the bed. I lay my palm on his chest, then push. He takes the clue and sits on the mattress, his legs spread. I step between them, the dress already sliding down my body and off the tops of my breasts.
Shark unbuttons his shirt and removes it, revealing his lean, muscular body. I hold on to his shoulders and try to push him back on the bed, but he stays sitting up, not letting me pin him down.
“Wait,” he says. “Is there anything you don’t want to do?”
“I should ask you that question, because I intend to do many things to you.”
Shark smiles. “Okay, is there something particular you’re into?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really had a chance to explore sex.”
“It’s precisely why I ask,” he says.
I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about what we’re into and not into. I can’t know what I like until I’m doing it or not doing it. I just want to be normal.”
“Tell me what’s normal for you.”
“Tonight, I want to keep my dress over my belly when I ride your face and hold on to that new headboard, digging my fingernails in it in hopes I can come so hard that I leave marks on the wood.” I swallow, my face burning.
“Do you want to fuck?” he asks.
I can’t answer him because I’m so embarrassed. A man has never spoken to me like this before. “Do you?” I whisper, biting my lip, nervous he’ll say no.
“I wouldn’t call what I want to do with you fucking. I’d call it breeding. I need to come inside you, repeatedly. I want you so full of my seed that it makes you feel like you’re growing my baby.” His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows.
“I was tested when I found out I was pregnant so I’m clean.” In a way, I’m also telling him nobody on the yacht touched me. I hope he believes me. “How about you?”
“Clean and always wearing condoms.” Shark pulls down my dress, and my breasts spill out. They’re larger now than they ever used to be, and when he takes one and squeezes, my nipple leaks a clear fluid.
“Oh God,” I whisper, mortified. “What…”
Shark cocks his head, then squeezes again, then leans in as if he’ll suck my nipple. I try to pull away, but he grabs my hip to hold me in place as he sticks his tongue out and licks.
“Fuck,” he mutters and looks up at me, eyes filled with desire. “This is a first for me.” He squeezes my breast again, but nothing comes out this time. Shark licks the nipple and then starts to suck. The sensation makes me arch my back at the same time that Shark pulls down his pants and fists himself.
He strokes himself as he sucks my nipples before he tucks a hand under my dress and slides a finger over my wet entrance. “I’m happy to find you wet,” he says. “Your pregnancy and all these perks that come with it turn you on as much as they turn me on. I’m pretty sure I have a new kink.” He pushes two fingers inside me and starts to slide them in and out.
I hold on to his shoulders and ride his fingers as he adds another, widening my entrance. We’re both panting as he fingerfucks me and takes care of himself.
“You better not come in your fist,” I tell him.
“Then you better start riding, cowgirl.”
“Cowgirl,” I repeat with a smile as I raise a knee on the mattress. I attempt to climb him, but the dress restricts my movement. When Shark tries to take the dress off, I stop him. “Just lift it up and cover my belly.”
“Won’t work for me. I want to see your naked belly.”
I bite my lip. “Do you really?”
“Yes, really.”
“What if it turns you off?”
Shark chuckles. “Trust me. That’s the opposite of what happens when I look at you. Naked or otherwise.”
“Are you sure? If you get turned off after seeing my big belly, I’ll…I’ll lose it.”
“Is that the only reason you asked for the dress to remain over your belly?”
I nod.
“Stop catastrophizing, Troy,” he says in a firm, authoritative tone that surprises me. “Be like the river and flow in the present. You have no business worrying about what might happen in the near future, and even if you did the what-if game, you can’t control me or what I’ll do. Now, take off your dress and climb over my face.”
Shark scoots up on the mattress and removes the rest of his clothes. He tucks a pillow under his head. “Did you hear what I said?” he asks when I don’t move over him.
“I heard.”
“Why are you still standing there?”
I slip out of the dress and watch the heat flare in his brown eyes. He really is turned on by me.
Perhaps after all the fear for my and my baby’s future, God delivered this man to the deck and let him loose on me. Shark spared my life. It wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate. A professional like him doesn’t miss at close range.
I climb over Shark’s beautiful hairless body, stopping by his erection and kissing the tip of it. It evokes a hiss from him, so I lick the length of his cock. Shark hisses again, and I squeeze the base of his dick.
“No, don’t,” he says.
“Now I have to.”
“Later,” he says and hauls me up and over his face. He pulls me down to sit on his mouth, then locks his hands over my thighs so I can’t move while he moves his head in a way that tells me he’s not playing around about eating me out. He’s really going to eat me like I’m a nice, soft, warm pumpkin pie.
He laps at my entrance before pressing his stubbled jaw against it and shaking his head, all while his tongue licks my clit.
I can’t ride his face. Shark’s locked me into position like he would his sniper rifle on the target. Now, he’s loading me up, preparing me to shoot all over this face. I grip the headboard as he’s growling, making sucking noises, and tongue-fucking me.
I moan loudly, and just when I’m ready to come, he lifts me off his face, slides out from under me, and before I know it, he’s behind me, his warm body folding over my much smaller one. I feel his cock at my entrance, his mouth on my shoulder, his fingers moving my hair aside so he can kiss my neck.
Gently, he pushes inside me. “You didn’t think I’d want you to give her up, did you? Not a chance. You are mine. And tomorrow, I’ll prove it to you. But tonight, you’ll be my good girl and push back and let me enter you, so I can be okay with fucking you. Because you’re not the only one who yearns for something normal.”
There. He said it. We’ve both gone through tough times, and his, I think, were worse than mine, and maybe that’s why we’re together now. So we can heal by joining our bodies and creating a new kind of memory that’ll pop up every time a bad one intrudes on our life.
I lean back so I can get more of him inside me, then start to move, gesturing how I want him to fuck me so that he can have that permission from me and from himself and maybe even the universe that’s brought us together.
He gathers my hair in a fist and tugs gently. My insides flutter at the subtle display of dominance. I like that he doesn’t treat me like cracked glass just waiting to shatter, even though sometimes I feel that way.
“We will come at the same time,” he says as he moves inside me. “You think you can do that?”
I nod, and since he’s holding my hair, it hurts.
I nod again and groan at the sensation.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he says. “Because life will test you.” A hand sneaks under my belly and holds it. It’s warm, large, masculine, and feels comforting.
“I’m close,” I tell him, because the fact he’s holding my belly is sending me over the edge.
“Hold on,” he says.
I bite my lip when he releases my hair so he’s free to stroke my clit.
“I can’t hold on,” I tell him. “I’m going to come.”
“Hold,” he repeats and starts to pound into me hard and fast.
That does it. Instead of screaming, I bite down on my arm, dig my fingernails into the headboard, and release an orgasm that feels like an avalanche. Shark follows as he ejaculates inside me and shouts my name.