17. Dane
DANE
I’m right on the edge of blowing my load into the woman I love more than anything in the world.
I can barely think. Speech is beyond me.
I just can’t believe I’m so fucking lucky that not only did I get that moment with Stephie in the cabin, I got her pregnant.
And then when I was off wreaking havoc and revenge against my enemies, Stephie waited for me.
She didn’t give up hope. She still loves me even though we had a misunderstanding of epic proportions.
My hips are working of their own accord, thrusting into my girl.
She’s wet, and tight, and more heavenly than I deserve.
And seeing her pinch her nipple, and the feel her fingers brushing my cock as she rubs her clit while I use her perfect pussy?
The best part. We’re a team. I’ll do everything I can for her, but sometimes she can do things that I can’t.
And full coordination is impossible for me currently. I’m too overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure. It’s taking all my effort to keep from coming inside her. Hard.
“Oh, god, oh. Dane, I’m going to come,” she whimpers.
“Please.” It’s the only word I can think of right now. The one I never say, except to her. The only person who can bring me to my knees.
Her orgasm bursts, and it’s too easy. I give in.
One stroke more, then two, then she’s yanked me with her into ecstasy.
I pour myself into her willing pussy with a shout.
It’s so strong my head spins, and I vaguely remember that it was like this before with Stephie.
It could have been the drugs, but actually the euphoria is all her.
I’m a broken man as I spurt over and over, deep in her.
She’s already pregnant by me, but even so, there’s a savage possessive edge to how I keep my cock pressed right up against her cervix.
I need to be joined with her in every way possible.
My knees are weak, my feet are stuck to the floor. All my muscles are screaming at me as I emerge from the blissful state of orgasming with the woman I love.
She’s flat on her back on the hardwood desk, breathing fast. Her hair is messy from my hands, her lips are pink from my kisses. Her legs are spread as wide as they’ll go for me, and I’m buried inside her. There’s a sheen on her skin. She’s the most beautiful she’s ever been.
Easing out of her is an ache, but necessary.
I gather her up in my arms, bridal style, and carry her to the couch that has barely been used in all the years I’ve been in this office.
We practically fall onto it. She shifts so she’s more comfortably on my lap, and I pull her side to rest on my chest. We recover there, our breathing slowing, skin cooling.
I shut my eyes and allow her closeness to soothe me.
The apple scent of her hair mixed with sex.
Her soft skin. The sticky evidence of both of our desires leaks from her pussy onto my thigh, and I don’t care at all.
In fact, I hold her tighter, just as I did that night when I got her pregnant.
“I feel so close to you.” She snuggles her face into the crook of my neck.
“You are. Or rather, I was even closer, and I will be again soon,” I reply into her hair.
She giggles, and it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve heard. I could get drunk on that sound.
“It’s the same for me. I’ve never been as close to anyone as I am to you,” I add after a moment. “There will never be anyone for me like you are. I meant it when I said that you’re the love of my life, and I want us to get married. You know that, don’t you?”
She sighs contently, and nods. “I love the ring. Thank you.”
“I bought that one because it reminded me of our first night together. The gold and red of the fire. The snowflakes are the diamonds.” It’s absurdly sentimental, but apparently that’s who I am for her. A man who would do anything.
“I love it. And you. But why did you propose before you told me you knew the baby was yours?” I feel more than see her face crease with confusion.
It’s difficult to put into words. “I wanted you to know they’re not conditional on each other. I love you, and I need you to be my wife. The fact this baby is mine biologically is a bonus. I was going to propose anyway. I was waiting because I didn’t want to scare you with too much too soon.”
“What, like, getting pregnant the first time we sleep together?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Too much too soon, like being in love with you for four years before I finally think to ask you to marry me,” I respond dryly.
She goes still. “You really meant that?”
I manage to let go of her side to catch her chin in my fingers and tilt her face up to look into mine. “You have no idea how I’ve wanted you all this time. I’ve been in agony.”
“It’s been the same for me,” she whispers shyly.
I drop a kiss onto her sweet mouth. “But now we’re together. Now there’s no holding back, because you’re pregnant, and going to marry me, and there are no secrets left between us.”
She blinks. “Well. Talking of secrets. You must have seen the rest of the test results, and you said ‘she’, earlier.”
A grin spreads across my face. “We’re having a girl.”
“Oh my god.” She giggles and kicks her feet. Seeing her joy bubbles more up in me, and I don’t know how long we spend looking into each other’s eyes and then kissing and gazing again. It’s as though Stephie needs to check, over and over, that I love her and we’re having a baby girl. Together.
And I’m happy to reassure her.
“My girls.” I lay my hand on her belly.
“One more secret.” Stephie’s expression goes serious. “What would you have done if the baby hadn’t been yours?”
“Princess, you know.” It’s cute that she thinks that no secrets means I’m going to tell her things that would traumatise her. She doesn’t need to know that I would have cut the balls off any man who had touched her. That’s hardly a healthy basis for a relationship. Better that she has deniability.
Her brows twitch together.
“I’d have protected what’s mine, Stephie. Whoever the father had been, you and this baby are both mine.”