Luke
My fingers tightened around her hips when her asshole clamped down on me. I could feel her tension. That wasn’t good for either of us.
I wanted to tell her exactly what I was about to do to her. Every filthy, precise detail. But panic had a way of slamming doors that pleasure needed left open, and I could feel her bracing—that particular stillness that wasn’t relaxation, just restraint.
So I swallowed the words back.
“You’re doing beautifully, Bella,” I murmured instead, easing my grip on her hip, letting my palm smooth over the muscle rather than dig into it. “Just breathe for me.”
Her exhale came shaky, but it came. Good. That was the tell I was watching for—not the moan, not the arch of her back, but the breath. The breath told the truth her body was still learning to.
I gave her a moment. Praised the curve of her spine. Told her, low and unhurried, how long I’d thought about this exact stretch of skin. Nothing crude. Nothing that would make her spine lock up again.
Only once her hips softened back into my hands, once I felt that particular give that meant trust, not just permission, did I let myself drift back toward filth—one line, testing.
“That’s it. You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”
Her breath hitched, but not from fear this time.
There.
I should have stopped there. Kept the balance. But the sight of her—open, trusting, mine in every sense of the word—undid something in my usual restraint, and the next words came out before I’d properly vetted them.
“God, I want to ruin you.”
I felt her tense again immediately, and cursed myself. Wrong moment. Wrong words.
“Not like that,” I corrected quickly, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades, softening my voice back down. “I mean I want to be the only thing you ever compare anything to again.”
Better. True, if inelegantly delivered.
Her laugh came out breathless, disbelieving. “That’s… actually worse, Luke.”
“Noted,” I murmured, smiling against her skin. “I’ll work on my delivery.”
Because for her, I would.
I smoothed her hair away from her face, gently rocking my body above her as I watched for any signs of discomfort. But there was only pleasure now—not only from my cock buried deep in her ass, but from her own hand, still busy playing with that beautiful pussy beneath us.
The need to claim every inch of her was like an unstoppable force. It wasn’t a whim. The need ran soul-deep. I covered her body with mine.
“I love everything about you, Bella,” I whispered close to her ear. “Everything.”
I could only see a portion of her face, but her eyes closed firmly as she processed my words. It left me exposed, like a raw nerve on an operating table. Seconds stretched into something closer to an eternity.
“Oh, Luke,” she said, her voice low and unsteady. “I was going to wait…”
Aw, fuck. No. Whatever it was, the answer was just fucking no.
“I’m pregnant.”
I stopped breathing, staring at her for several long seconds.
Pregnant.
The word landed somewhere inside me and refused to settle.
This was what I had wanted. What I’d planned for. What I’d convinced myself would complete the life I was building around her.
A child.
Our child.
My chest tightened so violently it almost hurt. I should have smiled. Laughed. Kissed her until neither of us could breathe.
Instead, one thought cut through everything else.
She could still leave me.
My stomach turned, because I knew exactly how much of this life had been engineered. The house. The security. The wedding. The way I’d inserted myself into every corner of her world until walking away from me would mean dismantling half the life she’d rebuilt.
I’d never been entirely honest with her, and now she was carrying the one thing I’d wanted most.
My child. Our child.
At forty-four, after years of believing that particular dream belonged to someone else, it was actually happening.
I swallowed hard.
“You’re pregnant?”
It was barely a whisper.
She nodded against the pillow.
And that was it. The future I’d spent so long calculating had suddenly become something I could lose.
I reached for her face, almost afraid to touch her.
“Bella…”
Fuck.
I was going to be a father.
Fuck—I leaned over her, grabbing my phone to check if anal sex was allowed during pregnancy.
“What are you doing?” She didn’t sound happy.
What was I doing?
I put the phone down. I’d already read the articles. The book. I knew exactly what I could do for each trimester. I sheepishly set the phone back down.
The panic settled, and I leaned in, kissing the dip of her back, her shoulder, her temple, her face. She turned and met my lips, and we synchronised until my cock jerked inside her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to feel it all again.
I eased out and squeezed some lube into her twitching hole. It hadn’t quite closed by the time I added a fresh coat to my cock.
She was ready. We both were. I carefully pressed the rounded head back inside, and this time, she was relaxed, and it slid right in.
“Yeah, darlin’,” I said breathlessly, before I began to move. “Keep that ass nice and open for me. Just like that.”
She was too busy moaning and rubbing herself, as if she’d found a magic wishing lamp. But the deeper I pressed inside her, the more enthusiastic she got. Only a few inches left until she took all of me.
“My good girl. I want my seed in every single hole you have,” I muttered, pulling my hips back before thrusting harder and deeper. “Damn, yes.”
Her cries were muffled, her muscles tightening around me before relaxing again. My good girl. Nice and open for my cock now.
I grabbed her ass with one hand, her waist with the other. She was so hot and tight. Fuck. And pregnant.
My hips began to swing of their own accord—back and forth, pacing myself between deep, hard thrusts and slower, shallow ones.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she cried, each word merging into the next.
Her muscles began to flutter, and I joined the chaos, fucking her like a beast, loving the feel of her soft ass cheeks against me, my balls slapping against her with every drive.
It was wild.
Filthy.
And us.
“Oh, yeah,” I growled, the sound tearing from the back of my throat, guttural and barely recognisable.
I watched my cock slide in and out.
Her ass bounced as the contracting muscles slowed, but that final pulse made my balls ache, and I roared her name as I came, emptying myself deep inside her ass.
It was better than I could have dreamed of.
But then again, everything with Bella always was.