Chapter 22 – Delphine
Chapter Twenty-Two
Delphine
I ’m pregnant. One thick spurt of this Italian man’s powerful seed and I’m pregnant with his baby.
The past ten weeks have been surreal. I never expected to have this experience because I’m single in my thirties and until meeting Luigi and Angela, I had absolutely no prospects of getting into another relationship.
I don’t have a damn clue how to feel about the changes now that the worst of the first trimester symptoms are starting to fade and most of my days are spent alone with my growing baby.
There’s a weird sense of connection I feel to the growing consciousness inside me, like they’re much more alive than I would have ever realized before experiencing pregnancy for myself.
The first few weeks after the positive pregnancy test, the powerful onset of symptoms quickly shattered my delusions of a “false positive”.
My nipples were sore, causing me to be much more aware of my nipples than anyone needs to be.
Ever. I had some of the worst morning sickness weeks six to eight, and Angela considered breaking her brother’s rule about waiting until his return to take me to an OB/GYN.
I handled the nausea by sleeping all day, which frustrated Angela’s extroverted tendencies, but she never made me feel too bad about it. She even apologized for putting me through pregnancy after holding my hair back during a particularly rough session of morning sickness.
My body didn’t wait long for the pounds to pack on, and within three weeks of Luigi’s absence, Angela had to go out and buy new clothes.
There’s nothing more embarrassing than your friend with a ballerina physique having to buy you new fat clothes twice in ten weeks.
I swear, I must be pregnant with an elephant.
Judging by Luigi’s size… I guess his baby might be enormous.
When Luigi sees me again, I hope he doesn’t care that I’m much bigger.
Because it’s his fault.
The physical changes are painful, but the emotional changes are even more confusing to deal with.
The attachment I form to ‘the baby’ overpowers any attachment I’ve ever felt before.
I think about our future all the time and then I wonder…
will we have a future, or will Luigi separate us?
He has more money than I ever will and mob connections.
If he wants to keep our baby for himself, what the hell would stop this monster?
My fixation and growing affection for the life inside me extends weirdly to Luigi.
I don’t want him to die in Pittsburgh. Even if he was unbelievably cold when he left me…
the good memories I have with him are stronger than his moments of impenetrable coldness.
He didn’t fake those minutes of connection with me and since I have all this time alone growing his child, I can’t let go of those romantic moments.
They grow stronger in Luigi’s absence and I find myself caring deeply about his return.
Angela announces Luigi’s exact arrival time to me at breakfast on the tenth Monday after he left Buffalo. His emails stopped about eight days ago, and I tried not to assume the worst. He’s still alive and he’ll be here around 4:30 p.m.
“My brother Renzo will pick me up half an hour earlier,” Angela says. “He’s finally back from Italy, and Luigi wants you here alone.”
We haven’t had much time apart in the past ten weeks.
I struggled with my emotions about Angela’s drugging incident but ultimately, she’s gone above and beyond to look after me to Luigi’s standards.
Italian cooking will heal any fucked up relationship, and Angela doesn’t even expect me to wash up.
I’ll miss her, even if I’m excited to see Luigi.
“Will you be at the penthouse?” I ask Angela, hoping that her family doesn’t send her halfway across the country.
“Yes. And if this war with the Pittsburgh Italians ends, I’ll get to stay. Otherwise, I don’t think my father will let me get far.”
I still don’t know why her father won’t trust her to leave, even if I have some clues about Angela’s personality.
I hope this Pittsburgh mob situation doesn’t take her too far away from me.
She might be crazy, but she’s been a real friend throughout this pregnancy.
I’ve spoken to my family over the phone, but their reactions have all been questionable at best.
My parents were skeptical that I was pregnant at all and they warned me not to let a broke man come after me for my money.
It wasn’t exactly supportive. They act like I’m not in my thirties.
My brother told me that he hoped I didn’t “let a white man knock me up”, ending our conversation abruptly.
My sister sent a few emojis in response and then set her phone on Do Not Disturb. (She’s a Pisces.)
Angela has been there for me every single day — and she’s not even my blood.
Her brother arrives in a tinted silver Mercedes to pick her up and I have thirty minutes of alone time before Luigi arrives. But I’m pregnant, so I don’t stay awake long. I fall asleep on the couch beneath soft fleece blankets and wake up when Luigi unlocks the lake house front door.
Luigi instinctively stalks across the living room to my position on the couch before I wake myself up properly.
I’m only able to stand up in the time it takes him to stand in front of me, all six-foot-five inches of his hulking, muscular frame.
Holy shit, he’s so much bigger than I remember.
Luigi says nothing as he stands there, but he considers me with a slow, penetrating gaze.
I forgot what it felt like to have him staring at me like this.
My body hasn’t forgotten. Luigi’s strong presence and the faint scent of his cologne on his skin sends a jolt of awareness straight between my legs.
I have done everything in my power to push down any sexual thoughts throughout my pregnancy, but with Luigi right in front of me, the hormonal rush overpowers my senses.
I just can’t jump him because… it’s him. And Luigi still appears cold as he stares at me. He’s been gone for ten weeks. I’m guessing he activated a dating app and had wild, meaningless sex with whatever woman he wanted to in Pittsburgh. I hold no illusions that he would be loyal to me.
He finally speaks. “You’re pregnant.”
Is that his ‘polite’ way of saying he can tell I gained weight? I try to press down the flush of humiliation. It’s like I stupidly hoped he would say something romantic. I want to punish him with a response that’s just as emotionless.
“I’m following the contract. Nothing more.”
I swear I detect a flicker of anger, but Luigi remains in complete control of his facial expression, and I can’t read whether I’ve made him angry, or if he’s just thinking of something else. Maybe he’s missing whatever woman he was posted up with in Pittsburgh.
He struggles with his next words. “I’m glad you’re well.”
“It’s almost a sentiment.”
Luigi chuckles. Then he says something so real that I regret pushing back.
“I missed you,” he says. “Is that a good enough sentiment for you?”
“Why did you want to meet me alone?” I ask him. “Angela misses you too.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Luigi asks, shedding the black jacket over his white button down. This man won’t let go of these tailored suits. I can’t blame him. There’s something so sexy about a man in formal wear, even if he’s a cruel, unfeeling asshole like Luigi.
“No. You’ve been gone long enough to move on to greener pastures.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m sure you had fun in Pittsburgh.”
Luigi’s hand snaps to my face. I struggle not to flinch as he grabs my cheek possessively, straddling the line between desire and anger in a way I find impossible to comprehend.
He’s been gone for ten weeks. His emails have all been related to our contract and his hopes for his future heir.
I don’t have a clue how he feels — not even now.
“Do you think I fucked another woman in Pittsburgh?” He asks. Each new breath of air becomes more of a struggle to inhale.
"We only have a baby contract. I don't expect you to stay loyal to me while you're living like a prince."
Luigi's face darkens. "I'm glad you had bodyguards while I was gone with that type of twisted fucking logic."
Somehow, this pissed him off. I stay quiet, not wanting to step on more grenades. His fingers sink into my cheeks more forcefully as he gets possessive and tense.
"You are never going to fuck another man again," Luigi says darkly before leaning forward and kissing me.
His lips force mine apart and he doesn't warm me up before sliding his tongue eagerly into my mouth.
I can taste his desperation, feel his heat burning against me.
His dark emotional state seems to rise for a second and then he pulls away, giving me another chilly, empty stare.
"And I would never sleep around behind your back. You're the mother of my child and so far, you have obeyed every last one of my commands."
He follows that statement with another kiss.
My emotions swell in my chest, but I force myself to suppress them quickly, because Luigi confuses the hell out of me and finding out I'm wrong about the mutual nature of our feelings would just make me feel even more foolish than I already do for letting him get me pregnant.
I thought I was too old for a baby to take after just one time. Call me naive, but I'm not a fertility expert, and I've never come close to being in a relationship where kids were on the table. I'm even more vulnerable with Luigi because of that.
"Okay," I respond awkwardly, because I don't know what to say to Luigi and it's the only response I can force without panicking.
"Every night I was gone, I thought about tasting you. I miss how good you smell..." he kisses my neck. "How wet your lips get..."
Luigi kisses me on the lips next, slowing down to suck on my lower lip before he pulls away. When I look up into his eyes after pulling away from the kiss, I feel even weaker than before.
"What I miss even more than my tongue between your legs is feeling those thick ass lips wrapping around my cock."
He runs his finger over my lips slowly, clearly fantasizing about all the dirty things he missed in the past ten weeks away from me.
I'm reeling from his words, stunned into silence and not as sexually confident as the broad-shouldered Italian man feeling me up and expressing every little emotion that comes into his head.
The second I acknowledge Luigi's expressions of my emotions, I know he'll stiffen up, withdraw this intimacy, and return to the cold stranger he is with me because of a contractual obligation he's too lazy to wriggle away from.
"Hmm," Luigi murmurs. "I think I'll taste your cunt first. That way when you suck my cock, I'll feel your appreciation."
He grips my ass cheeks and guides me towards the bed, practically tossing me back before he drops to his knees.
I am way too pregnant to fight him off physically or mentally.
My baby bump seems a lot bigger than it should be at ten weeks, and I haven't been thrown around or done too much physical activity with the rough first trimester I've had.
Luigi parts my legs and nearly rips off the loose fitting maxi-dress I just ordered.
To stop him from going crazy, I lift the dress, basically helping him to get closer to my underwear.
What is wrong with me? My brain fires panicked signals throughout my entire body as Luigi's large arms part my thighs and he rubs the outside of my underwear teasingly with his fingers.
Luigi has long and thick fingers that move in slow circles around my outer lips as he teases me through my underwear.
"Already wet," he whispers. "I think you missed me too."
The lump in my throat prevents me from speaking as the tension in my body mounts. It's not that I don't want this. I want him so badly that I'm scaring myself. Luigi pries away my soaking wet panties with his teeth, moving them aside with surprising skill considering he only uses his mouth.
I gasp loudly as his tongue slides between my embarrassingly wet lower lips. Luigi growls from the back of his throat in deep appreciation before his tongue slides deeper inside me, penetrating me before he moves back to my outer lips and alternates between slow licking and nibbles.
My tension fades and bliss replaces all that agitated energy, pushing me close to the edge of a climax faster than anyone ever has before.