Page 68 of Nine Month Contract
A wicked glint lights up his eyes as he stares down at my cleavage. My tits are practically bursting out of my dress with every heave of air I drag into my lungs. They feel heavy and swollen, and my nipples ache with just the pressure of his body against mine.
But my God, I want that pain.
He leans in and whispers into my ear as his hand releases my jaw and moves to the back of my neck. “You thought I was controlling before? You haven’t seen anything until I sink my cock deep inside you. Then you’ll really be mine.”
I pull in a jagged breath as goose bumps spread across my body. My hands tremble at my sides, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and grab him.
I should be grabbing my keys instead and running. Or I should grab a pitchfork and impale this man who is obviously completely insane. I should shove him away and tear out of this barn to call the cops. This is psycho, not sweet.
But my body craves his crazy…I’ve quite possibly never craved anyone more in my entire life.
“How would it work?” I croak, my voice thick with arousal, mybelly swirling with butterflies. “If we have sex…then what? Just forget about it the next day? Act like it never happened?”
Wyatt tilts his head and eyes me seriously, his face appearing as though he’s having a full-blown conversation with himself before he replies, “Or…we fuck as much as we want whenever we want until your due date…” His fingers glide delicately over the swell of my breast, sending a flurry of flames through me as he flattens his warm palm to my belly and adds, “And whenthisis over…so are we.”
I inhale sharply, fully absorbing what he’s just suggested: sex for the remainder of this pregnancy and nothing more. Which meansI’m finally going to sleep with the man who knocked me up.
It sounds crazy but also logical at the same time. I mean, I’ve already had his semen inside me. I’m already stuck with him for the next several months. I’m already planning to cut and run when this is all over. What’s the worst that could happen?
And hell, maybe if I finally fuck him, I can keep him in a box instead of this damn push and pull we both struggle to navigate.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I grab his hand and shift it from my belly to between my legs. His eyes flash when his fingers graze my warm center over my dress. I lean up on my tiptoes and whisper against his lips, “What are you waiting for, Mountain Man?”
A low growl erupts from my throat as I push the fabric of her dress into her lower lips and feel how wet she is already as the fabric dampens. Good God, she’s ready, and I’ve barely touched her.
Lucky me, lucky number thirteen.
I shift my hand down and ruck up her dress, desperate to feel her skin on mine. Enough talking, enough arguing, enough acting like we don’t both want this. It’s been clear from the start, and I’m done playing the dutiful intended parent.
Right now, we are just a man and a woman alone on a mountain.
Except for Millie…and Reginald…and Handsome…and I guess Strudel upstairs. And my fucking brothers whenever they get their dumb asses home. I better get my ass moving.
Her belly is soft against my rough hands as I tease the edge of her panties, watching her reaction with rapt fascination. “You want me to touch you, Trista?” I ask, dipping my hand into her underwear and delicately grazing over her smooth mound.
“Yes,” she cries out, her voice hoarse with need. “Wyatt, don’t fucking tease me.”
“Why not?” I ask, my finger grazing the very top of her slit.
“Because I won’t live through it,” she pants, her voice fraught with need.
“I told you I wanted to take care of you,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her neck, desperate to kiss her but knowing I want to kiss something else first. “So let me.”
I drop down in front of her and hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties, yanking them down to her ankles. She steadies herself on the counter and shakily steps out of them. I take a moment to admire her creamy thighs as I slide my hand up one leg, watching in appreciation as her skin dimples under my firm touch. There’s no greater sight than soft flesh being punished.
“Wyatt,” she croaks, her hands shoving into my hair. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to taste you at last.” I splay a hand against her belly as I toss one of her legs over my shoulder, and without waiting for her encouragement, I press my lips to her center and growl in appreciation when I taste her arousal.
She’s soaked, and the feel of her on my lips stirs a frenzy in me as I shove my face into her, rutting like a wild fucking animal. I flatten my tongue and lick and stroke and thrust as deep as I can, only pausing so I can tip my head and suck greedily on her clit.
My cock throbs with need as her thighs tighten around my ears, muting the sexy noises she’s making so all I can hear is my racing heart and the breath struggling to escape my mouth as I refuse to come up for air. All the fantasies I’ve had about this woman are finally comingto fruition, and I’m not going to let a little thing like oxygen get in the way of enjoying myself.
My hand leaves her thigh, fingers aching from where I must have been gripping her harshly. From beneath her ass, I pull back from her and hook my finger before pushing it up into her wet channel, reaching for her G-spot.
“Holy shit,” she mewls, sounding unhinged as I finger-fuck her, dragging over the tight ridges inside her as I watch her belly expand and contract with every gasp, every noise, every cry. Her breath is high-pitched when she squeaks out, “I’m going to—”
A noise vibrates my chest as I descend on her clit, flicking my tongue violently over the hardened nub. She tenses around my digit, her fingers squeezing so hard on my traps I’m sure there will be bruises tomorrow. Her body bends, her frame falling down on top of me, and I yank my finger out and plunge my tongue into her center to feel her erupt on my face.
