Chapter 7 Gage
SEVEN
Gage
I didn’t just want to knock her up.
I wanted her mine. I wanted to fuck her all night. I wanted to watch her belly grow with my baby, wanted her moving around the house in nothing but my shirt, one hand on her belly, the other on her lower back.
I wanted her.
Not what she offered.
Not just the solution to my family’s problem.
I hadn’t even told her all the details of what I was dealing with…
hadn’t explained that my Uncle Arlo was a convicted felon, that he’d been hanging around the property, that his son was a hunter who lived in the backwoods around Briar Hill.
She could be in danger—that was on me for not explaining—and I needed to tell her.
But for now…for now…
We’d fucked one more time before we actually got out of bed, my hand pressed to her stomach, holding her against me as I’d rocked into her from behind. Her brow had furrowed as she turned around to kiss me, my tongue invading her mouth, letting her know how badly I wanted to claim her.
We made it to the kitchen eventually.
She'd pulled on the yellow sundress again—no bra, I noticed, and couldn’t stop noticing—and I'd pulled my jeans back on and nothing else.
The cold burgers were sitting on the kitchen table where I'd left them and the Hill Country was fully dark outside the window, Dolly visible on the porch swing through the glass.
"She's still out there," Millie said as she popped the burgers in the microwave.
"She lives here," I said.
Millie looked at the swing. Looked at me. "Do I need to negotiate with her for the porch?"
"Probably."
The microwave chimed and it was only then that we sat down at the table. I grabbed the bag to put it in front of her, and she reached in to grab her burger and then mine.
"I'm genuinely starving," she said, unwrapping it. "I haven't eaten since this morning, and honestly…this smells delicious."
"It is delicious,” I said, guilt gnawing at me. "I should have made sure you ate first."
"I was distracted."
My voice was hoarse when I responded. "Me too."
She looked at me for a second, and then she picked up the burger. She looked at it like it was a puzzle she was going to solve before took a bite and closed her eyes briefly, letting out this low moan.
Fuck, I was already getting turned on again.
But I held back. Waited. watched her eat.
I wasn't subtle about it. She was halfway through the burger before she noticed, and when she did she stopped chewing and looked at me.
"What?" she said, around a mouthful.
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I'm watching."
"That's the same thing."
"It's not," I said.
She swallowed. Looked down at the burger. Something shifted in her expression—the beginning of a self-conscious thing, the kind I'd seen when she'd crossed her arms in the living room, wearing that perfect set of lingerie that hugged her curves just right.
"Eat," I said. “I just want to make sure you’re fed, darlin’. We’re burning an awful lot of calories.”
She blushed. “Right…”
“I mean it,” I said, tilting my chin toward the burger. “Eat, Millie.”
She ate.
I watched.
She got through the rest of the burger and half the fries before she looked up again, chin slightly lifted, something defiant and warm in her eyes.
"You're still doing it," she said.
"I know."
"It's weird."
"I don't care." I pushed the rest of the fries toward her. "Finish those."
"I'm not—"
"Millie."
She ate the fries.
I watched her lick the salt off her thumb and felt it in my spine.
She caught my expression and went pink. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what."
"Like you're going to—" She stopped. Looked at the table. "Like that."
"I am going to like that," I said. "Soon as you finish eating."
Her breath hitched. I watched her throat move when she swallowed.
"I need to unpack," she said. Faint.
"Tomorrow."
"I need to—"
"Tomorrow," I said again. "Tonight you eat…and then you come over here and sit on my cock.”
She stared for a second. I wondered if I’d pushed too far…if I’d said too much, made it too uncomfortable.
If she’d leave.
Then she stood up.
Rounded the table.
I pushed back from the table and unzipped my pants, taking my hardening cock out and stroking it. Her eyes flicked from my cock down to her dress, then back again.
“Leave it on,” I said. “And come here.”
I put my hands on her hips and she swung one leg over to straddle me. I felt her pussy against the head of my cock, fluttering like it was hungry…wet, so wet.
“Take your time,” I murmured, holding her hips. “I’ve got you.”
She started to lower down, taking me in…inch by agonizing inch.
"That's it," I said. "Easy."
She was going slow, working her way down, her brow furrowed in concentration, her hands gripping my shoulders. I kept my hands on her hips—not pushing, not guiding, just holding. Letting her set the pace.
"You're doing so good," I said.
She let out a shaky breath.
"Too much?" I said.
"No." She shifted slightly, adjusting the angle, and sank another inch and made a sound that was half gasp half moan. "No it's—you're just—big."
"Take your time."
"I am taking my time," she breathed. "I'm—oh —"
She dropped the last inch and seated herself fully and we both went completely still.
Her head fell back.
My jaw went tight.
"There," I managed.
"There," she agreed, breathless.
I moved one hand from her hip to her lower back, holding her. Just holding her. Giving her a moment to adjust, to breathe, to feel the full weight of what we were doing in this kitchen chair at midnight.
"Millie," I said.
She lifted her head and looked at me.
Her eyes were dark and wet and she was biting her lip and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life.
I raised my hand to cup her breast through her dress, making her let out a needy whine.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” I murmured. “You know that? Perfect.”
I rolled my hips up slow and felt her clench around me, her nails digging into my shoulders. I did it again, deeper this time, and she started to move with me—that slow grinding roll, finding the rhythm, her forehead dropping to mine.
"Good girl," I said, low. "Just like that."
She whimpered.
"That's it." My hands guided her hips, the pace building, her breathing going ragged. "Take it. Take all of it."
"I've got it," she breathed. "I've got—Gage —"
"I know." I drove up harder and she gasped. "I know. You're so good, Millie. So perfect." I pressed my mouth to her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Keep going just like this and I'm gonna get you pregnant tonight. You hear me? One night. Fill you up so many times there's no question."
"Yes," she said. Immediate. Fervent. Her hips snapped down to meet mine. "Yes, please—"
"Yeah." I gripped her hips tighter, felt her slick heat clenching around me, felt her getting close. "That's what's going to happen. Every drop. Deep as I can get." I looked at her flushed face, her parted lips, those dark eyes glazed and locked on mine. "You want that."
“Please,” she begged. “Please, please, please…”
"Please what," I said.
"You know what," she breathed.
"Say it."
She whimpered. Her hips rolled and I gripped them harder, stilling her, making her feel every inch of what she was sitting on.
"Say it, Millie."
"Fill me up," she said. Desperate. "Please fill me up, I want—I need—Gage please I need you to—"
"To what."
"Breed me." Loud. Unashamed. Her nails raked down my chest. "Please. Fill me up and get me pregnant, please, I need it, I need—"
I drove up hard and she cried out.
"That's my girl," I growled. "That's exactly right."
I got my hand between us and found her clit and she nearly came off my lap with it, but I held her down, held her exactly where I wanted her, and worked her while I kept driving up into her and she was so loud about it, loud enough that if Sawyer was anywhere on this property he was going to know exactly what was happening in this cottage and I did not care even slightly.
"You feel that?" I said, against her throat.
"Yes—"
"Feel how full you are."
"Yes."
"That's mine," I said. "All of that is mine. This pussy, this body—" I drove up again and she cried out. "Mine to fill up. Mine to take care of. Mine to—"
"Yours," she gasped. "Yours, I'm yours, please—"
I felt her clench and flutter and then she came absolutely apart—loud and shaking and soaked, her whole body seizing around me, her face in my neck, my name broken into pieces in her mouth.
I followed her over hard.
Buried as deep as I could get and stayed there, both hands locked on her hips, keeping her seated, keeping her pressed flush against me while I finished inside her.
Hot.
Deep.
Every drop.
She was shaking.
I was shaking.
We stayed absolutely still.
My hand moved from her hip to her lower back, pressing gently, keeping the angle, keeping everything right where it needed to be, and with my other hand I reached up and smoothed her hair back from her face.
She looked perfect.
"Okay?" I said, rough.
She laughed. Breathless and helpless. "I don't know what I am."
"Good kind of don't know?"
"Very good kind." She lifted her head and looked at me. Her eyes were glassy and dark and her lips were swollen and the gold cross had swung completely sideways. "Gage."
"Yeah?"
"I think—" She stopped. “I think…this is so much better than a sperm donor.”
I laughed, and she laughed with me—that unbridled, beautiful laugh.
“You want me to stay the night?” I asked.
She nodded, her smile dreamy. “Yes.”
“Okay, beautiful.” I leaned in and kissed her temple. “Let’s get you back to bed.”