Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Richard
I'd seen all kinds of rejections in my life.
The kind at business negotiation tables, polite with room to maneuver, I could flip those in three minutes flat.
Boardroom rejections, all high and mighty, I could dismantle with my eyes closed.
And women's rejections—the ones where their eyes said no but their body language screamed come closer, I'd learned to read those since I was eighteen.
But the way Natalie stood there, telling me "I'm not going back," didn't fit any of those.
She had her back against the door, chest heaving, a few strands of hair falling across her face. She looked messy, exhausted—and still lifted her chin, staring at me like she was ready to bite.
God, Natalie was gorgeous.
No makeup, hair a mess, drowning in that oversized David's shirt, feet in slippers.
Damn. I had to admit, even like this, I wanted her.
"Tonight, you come back to L.A. with me. We'll pretend these two months never happened. I won't hold it against you—"
"You won't hold it against me?" She cut me off. "Listen to yourself. You won't hold it against me. What the hell did I do that needs your forgiveness?"
"Natalie—"
"We're legally divorced," she said. "What business of yours is my life now?"
I blew out a hard breath. Don't get pissed.
I wasn't here to argue with Natalie.
I reined it in, figuring my offer wasn't sweet enough.
"Alright, I know you love singing. L.A. has way better resources than whatever you've got here. Hell, I could even set up your own record label."
After I said that, Natalie laughed.
But it didn't make me happy. Two reasons: First, this wasn't her usual smile—it meant she was digging in harder than I thought. Second, it crinkled the corner of her eye in this perfect curve, making me want to crush her against me in half a second. And the vibe between us right now? Not the time.
Sure enough, Natalie hit me straight: "No matter what you offer, we're done. I'm not going back to being your perfect little Mrs. Winston, faking the socialite act day after day, then lying in bed waiting for you to grace me with your presence. I've had enough of that shit."
"God, is that how you see our marriage?"
"In my eyes, it's worse than I just said."
Looked like I wasn't getting through to Natalie tonight. She was tougher than I expected.
I dropped the persuasion angle and stepped closer. "Whether you agree or not, you're coming with me tonight. You know I can make that happen, and I bet you don't want it to go that far."
"Oh, really? If you try, I'll go to court for a restraining order. You know I can do that." Natalie stared me down, defiant, but her slight tremble gave away. She wasn't as cool as she looked.
Restraining order.
No one had ever dared say that to me.
I watched her stubborn face, then grabbed her arm. So damn thin—I could snap it with a twist. I shoved her back against the door; she hit with a grunt. No time for her to react—I leaned in, trapping her between me and the wood.
Close enough to count her lashes. Feel her chest rise and fall. Close enough my cock hardened, straining against my pants. Any more, it'd rip right through.
I couldn't take it. Desire overrode everything. I dipped my head and kissed her hard.
I should've done this sooner.
Natalie's lips were cool and soft, stiff as stone when I hit them.
I pried her teeth open without mercy, diving in, tangling, making damn sure she remembered this—remembered who her man was, who got to touch her like this.
At first, she didn't respond, like a lifeless doll.
That pissed me off more. I pinned both her wrists above her head against the door with one hand, easy as hell, and cupped the back of her head with the other, forcing her to take the kiss, forcing a response.
Then Natalie started fighting.
Not some half-assed pushback—this was full-on, all-out struggle.
She twisted, tried to knee me, but I blocked it with my leg.
A muffled whine came from her throat, like a trapped animal.
That fight... fuck, it made me harder. The wilder she got, the more I wanted to break her.
Crush her into me, make her cry and admit she was wrong, beg that she still belonged to me.
The thought snapped my control. I broke the kiss from her lips, trailing down her jaw to her neck, marking her collarbone.
She shuddered, breath ragged. "Let go... Richard... you bastard..."
"This is being a bastard?" I panted, lips against her ear. "Baby, I've got worse."
I released her wrists, sliding my hand down her side, bunching up the hem of that baggy tee. Her skin was warm, smooth, quivering under my palm.
I wanted more, needed to confirm that under this shitty shirt, it was still the body I knew.
My hand hit her waist and froze.
I remembered the California report: she'd bought a ton of loose clothes lately. I'd figured she'd been eating better without me, even thought about hiring some Vegas chefs. But now... this wasn't fat. Fat didn't curve like this.
I stopped kissing.
Natalie felt it.
She shoved me hard with both hands, yanking the sweatshirt down to cover her belly. She looked up, panic in her eyes sharper than when she'd first seen me tonight.
God.
"You're pregnant."
"No," she denied fast. "You're imagining things. I just—"
"Don't lie to me, Natalie." My voice came out low, like a whisper edged in ice. "You know if I want, I can find out which hospital, which doctor, which day. Tell me the truth. Now."
I stared, catching every flicker on her face. She went rigid, chest heaving. She looked away, lips pressed into a pale line. Silence. Long, suffocating silence.
Then, barely, she nodded. "Yes, I'm pregnant."
Guessing was one thing. Hearing it? Another.
"So, you didn't miscarry?"
"I did miscarry."
It hit like a punch to the chest, air knocked out of me. The world tilted.
Natalie was pregnant again? In the two months we'd been apart.
That explained why she wouldn't come back.
"This baby," I said, voice heavier than I expected, "whose is it?"
Natalie looked at me, said nothing.
"Natalie," I repeated. "I'm asking: whose kid?"
More silence.
I was done with her fucking silence.
"We'll deal with the kid later." I stepped up, pinning her to the door again.
I didn't give a shit anymore, nothing holding me back. I yanked down Natalie's jeans, unbuckled my belt.
"No... don't," she whispered, her voice trembling, but even as the words left her lips her hips twitched forward, seeking more contact. Her body betrayed her completely, the soft curve of her pregnant belly rising and falling with each shallow breath.
"Your body is more honest than you are, baby," I growled low in my throat.
I pressed two thick fingers inside her without warning, feeling her tight walls stretch around the intrusion.
She was scorching hot inside, velvet soft and pulsing, and I curled my fingers upward right against that swollen spot that always made her lose control.
A sharp gasp tore from her throat. Her inner muscles clamped down hard, squeezing me in rhythmic spasms as fresh wetness flooded around my knuckles.
I held her gaze, my thumb finding her clit and rubbing firm, steady circles over the sensitive nub.
"Now tell me, whose kid is this?" My voice was rough, demanding, but I kept the pace slow and deliberate, pumping my fingers in and out with wet, obscene sounds that filled the quiet space between us.
She stayed silent, biting down hard on her lower lip, but her body answered for her.
She was drenched, her juices running down my wrist in shiny trails.
Her hips began to roll, grinding down onto my hand, chasing the friction with shameless little movements that made her full breasts bounce softly beneath her shirt.
No answer came. Fine. I pulled my fingers out slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every inch as they left her empty and aching.
She whimpered, a needy sound that went straight to my cock.
Before I could even speak, she pressed herself against the hard length straining in my pants, rubbing her soaked pussy along the thick ridge with desperate rolls of her hips.
"Fuck," I cursed under my breath. I shoved my pants down in one rough motion, freeing my cock.
It sprang up heavy and flushed, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
I spun her around fast, pressing her forward until her palms braced against the door.
Her pregnant belly brushed the cool wood as I fisted a handful of her hair and yanked her head back just enough to expose the elegant line of her neck.
I lined myself up and thrust in deep, burying every inch to the hilt in one powerful stroke.
Her cry echoed off the walls, raw and broken.
She was impossibly tight, her walls fluttering wildly around my cock as I stretched her open.
"Have you let anyone else fuck you like this?" I demanded, pulling back almost all the way before slamming in again. The wet slap of skin on skin rang out with every brutal thrust.
She shook her head frantically, her moans spilling out louder now, unrestrained.
I leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.
Our tongues slid together, slick and hungry, while I drove into her harder, the force of my hips making her whole body jolt forward.
I could feel the swell of her pregnant belly brushing against my forearm, where I braced myself on the door beside her head.
The sight of it, round and full, only made me thrust faster, the visual of her body carrying life while I claimed her so roughly sending a dark thrill through me.
She came first, sudden and violent. Her walls clamped down in powerful waves, milking my cock as her entire body shuddered.
A gush of fresh wetness soaked my balls and dripped down her thighs.
I gritted my teeth and held back, refusing to follow her over the edge.
Instead, I pulled out, spun her to face me, and scooped her up.
Her legs wrapped tight around my waist, ankles locking behind my back.
I carried her like that, still buried inside her, each step bouncing her weight on my cock.
The motion drove me even deeper, making her cry out with every stride until we reached the bed.
I laid her down gently on her back, but there was nothing gentle about the way I grabbed one of her ankles and lifted it high, spreading her wide open.
My eyes locked onto the soft, rounded swell of her pregnant belly, the way it rose and fell with her ragged breathing.
Her skin glowed under the lamplight, stretched tight and smooth over the growing life inside her.
The sight made my cock throb harder. "Fuck, you look sexier like this than ever," I murmured, sliding back into her with a long, slow thrust that made her back arch off the mattress.
"You're a pervert," she gasped, but even as she said it her body arched higher, pushing her belly toward me, her inner walls fluttering greedily around my shaft.
I laughed low and dark, then picked up the pace, hips snapping forward with increasing force.
My balls slapped against her ass again and again until the pressure became too much.
I buried myself to the hilt and came with a deep groan, thick ropes of cum pulsing hot and heavy inside her, filling her until it leaked out around my cock in creamy white streaks.
But I was nowhere near finished. I slid down her body, shoulders settling between her spread thighs. My mouth closed over her clit, tongue lapping at the swollen bud while I tasted the messy mix of her juices and my own cum. The flavor was salty-sweet and utterly addictive.
She squirmed, hips bucking wildly against my face. I sucked harder, two fingers sliding back inside her to curl against that spot again. Her thighs clamped around my head, trembling. Then she shattered, squirting hard across my tongue in powerful jets that soaked my chin and the sheets beneath her.
"Does the guy who knocked you up do this for you?" I asked, licking my lips slowly, savoring the taste of us together. Her eyes were glassy, chest heaving, words failing her completely as she panted through the aftershocks.
My cock hardened again just from watching her like this, flushed and wrecked and still so needy.
I flipped our positions, lying back and pulling her on top of me.
I entered her once more in one smooth glide, thrusting up from below so she could feel every inch stretching her open.
"You like this, don't you? Admit it," I said, voice rough with lust.
She moaned, rolling her hips in answer, riding the rhythm I set from beneath her.
"Come back to L.A. with me, and I'll give you everything, anything you want," I promised, my voice hoarse as I felt her tightening again.
"No," she breathed, even as her walls fluttered around me.
I was right on the edge, pleasure coiling tight at the base of my spine, but I clenched my jaw and slowed down, pulling back just enough to deny her the release she was chasing.
She whined in frustration, a desperate sound that made my cock twitch inside her.
Then she took control, flipping us so she straddled me fully.
She sank down hard, taking every inch in one greedy motion.
Her hands planted on my chest as she began to grind fast and deep, hips circling and slamming down with a rhythm that left us both gasping.
The wet slap of her ass meeting my thighs filled the room.
I watched her pregnant belly bounce with every movement, the sight pushing me closer to the brink.
Her walls clenched rhythmically, milking me, and this time I couldn't hold back.
We shattered together, her body locking down around me in pulsing waves as I pumped rope after rope of cum deep inside her again.
Her cries mixed with my groans, both of us lost in the overwhelming high, bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction.
She was spent, thoroughly claimed, and yet the possessive hunger inside me only burned hotter, already imagining the next round.