Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
About two weeks ago. I remember Scarlett making a joke as she was cleaning my wounds, about how appropriate it was that she was bleeding while wiping stray blood from my back.
“Two weeks ago.”
Ross nods. “So it’s regular—surprising, but good. That would put her ovulation at… today and tomorrow, approximately.”
A smile curls my lips. “Excellent.”
I breeze through my work in the office, needing to be done by the time Scarlett gets back from the greenhouse. She’s going to spend today exactly as she spent yesterday; getting fucked until she’s incoherent.
I know I should probably inform her of my intent to knock her up, but I also know that my efforts will be met with her refusal to ever get in bed with me again… and I can’t have that. I know what I’m going to do, and I’m not in a mood to allow interference.
Scarlett returns in the late afternoon. There are smears of dirt on her cheek and hands, and she looks adorably disheveled as she steps into my office, the demon creature at her heels.
“The land around the greenhouse is ready for planting,” she says, sounding slightly out of breath.
“And the plant beds inside of it are doing very well. The seedlings are growing. The vegetables should be ready for planting next week, so whatever you need to put in place to get your band of assassins to work the land, please do it.”
That’ll be as simple as arranging a couple hours of farm work into the guys’ schedule. They might not be happy about it, but they’ll do as they’re told. “I’ll take care of it, baby.”
Her cheeks brighten a little more at my term of endearment. I hide a smile.
“I’m going to shower all the dirt off me. Can we go to the gym later?”
“No. I have a different form of exercise planned.”
Scarlett shifts from foot to foot, her brows furrowing a bit. She parts her lips, then closes them, as if she’s unsure how to articulate her thoughts.
“Yes, baby?” I prompt.
Her blush becomes even more pronounced. There’s my girl.
“I… I’m still sore from last night and this morning,” she murmurs, slightly bashful.
Bashful, but not refusing. A thrill fills my gut at the idea that she wants me. The desire is there in her eyes; she actually fucking wants me. I’ve seen desire on her features before, many times, but it’s always been accompanied by doubt or resentment. Right now, only arousal remains.
“I’ll be gentle,” I say, which is somewhat truthful. I’ll be gentle at first. But she’s going to have a long day. I’ll need to make her come as many times as possible if I want my seed to have the best shot of sticking, so she’ll have quite the workout ahead of her.
Her brows furrow. “I seriously doubt that.”
“But you’ll be a good girl for me anyway, won’t you?” I ask. She bites her lip, but doesn’t otherwise respond. I smile. “Go shower, Flower. Meet me in the bedroom afterward.”
“Oh God…” Scarlett whimpers several hours later.
She tugs at her hands, which are tied to the headboard, and shifts her legs restlessly around the bed.
“Monster, I… I can’t…” her words are cut off with a low groan as her pussy tightens around my fingers, spasming with the force of her orgasm.
I speed the motions of my fingers on her clit, entranced as I watch her come undone for me… again.
“How many is that?” I ask, mildly curious.
We’re both naked and sweaty; my cock is taking a much-needed rest break from pounding into her, but I’m not letting her off quite so easy.
I’ve had four orgasms since we started, but I stopped counting hers after the dozenth.
Seemed pointless, considering I’m nowhere near done with her.
I have to get Scarlett pregnant. If she’s pregnant, Cain won’t hurt her—even he doesn’t harm children. Eric will be forced to accept our place together. Scarlett will have fulfillment. And I’ll have the thing I never knew I wanted: a family.
I know my view on the situation is premature… that I’ll probably need to watch out for her trying to murder me once she finds out.
I won’t be drinking any tea she makes ever again…
But Scarlett knows me well enough to know I’m not a good man. I’m selfish. I want what I want, and I do whatever it takes to get what I want. I wanted her willing, and here she is, climbing into my bed and spreading her legs for me. Now, I want her belly round with my heir.
It might not happen on the first try, but I’ll keep going until it does.
“I… I don’t know…” Tears stream down her cheeks as she tosses her head from side to side, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. She wants this, even if she thinks it’s wrong. Even if she might never explicitly ask for it.
That’s alright, Flower. I’ll do the talking and asking.
“It… it hurts,” she whimpers. I tilt my head to the side, examining her.
“Does the pain supersede the pleasure?” My girl is exhausted and extremely overstimulated; I understand that can be painful, but the pain isn’t a sadistic kind.
I’ve heard women describe it as an exquisite sort of agony…
but if my Flower is truly hurting right now, the scene ends.
I’ve fucked her more than enough today—at this point, trying to knock her up is just an excuse to keep playing with her.
“Mm… I don’t—think so.” She’s out of breath, panting, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. My beautiful, precious mess.
“I’m just—” she pauses to suck in a breath, “so tired.”
“It’s alright, baby,” I soothe her. “Just a few more and we’re done.” For now.
A quiet sob escapes her, but she doesn’t protest. Like my perfect, precious good girl, she simply surrenders to the pleasure.