Chapter 30 Inappropriate #2
“Grab your cock, omega. It’s going to be fast. I want you to catch your cum in your hand.”
He changed angle, rubbing the front wall of my hole, and I wailed. Fast indeed. He was railing me like it was a competition, and we were entering the finish line in second place.
Well, we won.
My ass began clenching with the god of all orgasms, and I did my best to come into my fist. Luckily, after getting off just before we’d left for the event, I didn’t have much.
Such limitations didn’t apply to my mate, though.
Growling like the monster he was, he shot into me, dousing my insides with an abundance of fresh cum.
He panted, staying lodged in me deep enough to push against my womb.
“Eat your own cum.”
I lifted my hand to my face and obediently licked everything off while he rocked into me.
“Good boy.”
Then he retreated and promptly pushed the plug back in. Using a handkerchief from his suit pocket, he wiped my crease. He finished with one last slap over my bare ass.
“Get dressed.”
I took my time, playing up all my clumsy fumbling. He sat in an armchair to the side, relaxed, watching me sway slightly as I stepped into my shoes.
“How do you feel now?”
“Full.”
“Full of what?”
“I have two loads of your cum in me and a plug.”
“And?”
“My own cum is in my stomach.”
“Like a good slut.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you ready to go back downstairs?”
“I smell of sex, Master. But I like it. I don’t mind that people will know you’ve just fucked me. I’m ready to go whenever you want.”
“Come here.”
I sat sideways on his lap, and he pecked my lips. His serene smile let me know we were done playing for now. “Are you having fun?”
“Sneaking out to fuck? Absolutely.”
“And the party?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.”
He smirked crookedly. “I would have thought a boy like you would be at the heart of every glamorous event.”
“I used to enjoy that. But now I prefer being at home with my husband.”
He kissed me again, longer.
“It’s almost midnight,” he said. “We need to go down.”
“I know.”
I stood and offered him my hand. “Come, you have to kiss me in front of everybody.”
That got me a happy grin. “I do, don’t I?”
“Mhmm. And with your permission, Master, I won’t try to hide my excitement when you do.”
“Oh, the dinosaurs downstairs will get a kick out of that.”
I shrugged. “Let them.”
He hopped up and hugged me around my back, walking us out of the office.
“Everybody envies me already. I’m not sure I should provoke them even more.”
“Do you like showing me off in front of them?”
“They all thought I’d be single forever. Then I married the most beautiful man in the country who looks at me with love and lust in his gorgeous eyes. Yes, I like showing you off. Is it petty of me?”
I pecked his cheek. “In that case, we’re both petty. Because I love showing everybody how much I love you.”
We returned and merged discreetly into the crowd, but Emanuel Bracknell must have been onto us, because he joined us only seconds later.
“Ernest says goodnight. They had to return home abruptly.”
For some mysterious reason, he was bubbling with barely contained excitement. I blinked. Davidson seemed oblivious, murmuring something polite in response.
“Mr. Bracknell, do you think they left because…?” I trailed off meaningfully, and the older Bracknell nodded.
“I think so.”
I grinned. They went home because Lawrence was about to go into labor.
“What?” Davidson asked, confused.
“Lawrence might give birth soon.”
“Oh.” My mate glanced at my belly and at my face again. “That’s wonderful.”
For the rest of the night, Davidson smiled benevolently and talked to all those people with admirable patience. He even had the promised drink with Gregory Crane.
At midnight, when the fireworks outside exploded, he kissed me, and I went pliant in his arms, letting him deepen the kiss enough for our tongues to touch.
We were locked in the kiss just long enough to raise eyebrows.
I leaned into his chest and stayed close, my eyes only on my husband, until it was finally time to leave.
On the way home, I watched the city lights, contemplating the flow of time.
Last year, after midnight on January 1st, I’d lain drunk in Fabio’s living room, disgusted with the people he’d invited and required me to entertain.
I’d thrown a fit, and he’d punished me by taking a belt to my ass in front of the remaining guests.
They’d all been in various stages of inebriation, cheering wildly, and I, being stupid, had enjoyed the mortification.
I’d even tried to jerk off during the beating but hadn’t been able to come because of all the alcohol.
I’d been a train wreck.
I looked up at my husband, palming my belly.
Who’d have guessed that marriage and a child would be the solution to all that angst I’d carried?
I wasn’t wired for independence—I knew that now—and I would love and serve my husband for the rest of my life like the tamest, most obedient omega there was.
A true disgrace to the emancipation movement.
But my Davidson treated me as his equal even as I kissed his feet.
How in the hell I’d got so lucky, I’d never understand, but I was getting used to it.
I didn’t question myself anymore. He knew me, down to the darkest dungeon of my slutty soul, and he loved me anyway.
Maybe even more than I loved him—but I doubted that.
- Five months later -
Dr. Clearbridge claimed the pregnancy would be easy, and he’d been right.
For the most part. I did get heavy, and I waddled like a penguin.
I was tired and horny all the time and at the same time, which made me ridiculously clingy.
Of course, Davidson loved that. With how wet and loose I got during the ninth month, I could have slept with his fist in me all night long.
I even fell asleep during a fuck once. Didn’t stop me from coming, though.
All in all, I became a needy little animal.
But I also did useful stuff. I tried. I learned how to cook a few dishes—nothing fancy, but enough not to feel like a complete disaster in the kitchen. We did a parenting course together, and while the group discussions drove us both up the wall, it was time well spent.
At week thirty-six, I modeled for my last professional photoshoot.
After that, I did only one more, privately, with an omega photographer whose taste I greatly admired.
While most photoshoots I did later in the pregnancy were boringly wholesome and for commercial purposes, this one was erotic and artistic. I wanted something extra for my mate.
I stripped naked, wearing only the collar, and we took pictures for almost two hours.
Close-ups of curves and planes, my neck with the buckle, the top of my ass, now significantly bigger, with the dimples above, and even my hand holding my cock, with the piercing showing.
It was all very tasteful and raw, and just brilliant.
The photographer, Saul, made me feel more attractive than ever.
Today, Saul had given me the result over coffee, and we talked possible plans he had for taking pictures of me and the baby for an exhibition he was planning. While it was more demanding, I enjoyed modeling for art way more than commercials, so of course, I agreed.
When I came home, I put the dozen printed large-format pictures on Davidson’s desk, encased in a manilla envelope, and went to take a warm bath.
I almost fell asleep in the tub, so I quickly showered with lukewarm water to wake up properly.
When I exited the bathroom wearing my robe, Davidson was sitting on the bed, his shirt open at the collar, tie hanging loose.
His hair was messy as if he’d been running his hand through it.
He was holding two pictures, and the rest were spread out on the bed.
“Hello, dear husband,” he said, and his tone held a subtle warning. But I was going to be on my best behavior.
“Hello,” I replied.
“Who took these?”
“Saul. I told you about him, remember?”
“Yes. He’s very talented.” He looked around, frowning. “I want to hang them on the walls in here.”
“What about the staff? And our future children?”
“I know I can’t. Which irritates me because I want to.”
“You’ll have to keep them in the nightstand, then.”
“I’m annoyed. Come and suck my cock.”
I grinned. That I could always do.
I knelt between his legs and serviced him while he looked at the photos, studying each with great focus. He came on a sigh, and I cleaned him up, then licked his cock until he told me to stop.
Letting me wait on my knees by the bed, he collected all the images and carefully placed them into the top drawer of his nightstand.
He told me to lie on the bed and kissed me, everywhere, searching for the spots and lines the images had captured, and tracing them with his lips and tongue. By the time he spooned me and pushed inside me, I was panting with arousal. I came after barely a few thrusts.
We made love for a long time, on our sides at first, and then me on top while he stroked my belly.
My nipples tingled, and when Davidson massaged them, a small drop of clear liquid escaped from my left pec.
I was close.
The first contraction came early in the morning three days later. It woke me up, and my gasp of surprise jolted Davidson into a sitting position.
We had everything ready. A pile of towels, a water basin, drinks and food for me, a small clip for the umbilical cord… Everything neatly placed in the lowest drawer of my dresser.
We could simply make love and let it happen.