Page 17 of His to Watch
"Picture it," I continue, the filthy words pouring out uncensored. "Your belly swelling with my baby. Your tits getting fuller, more sensitive." I capture one nipple between my fingers, pinching lightly, drawing a gasp from her. "Everyone who looks at you will know what I did to you. How thoroughly I bred you."
"Yes," she whimpers, her hips rising to meet my thrusts. "Yes, Daddy."
The image in my mind is so vivid—Tatianna with her belly rounded with my child, that same studious concentration on her face as she catalogs artifacts, but now with the unmistakable glow of a woman carrying life. My life. My seed growing inside her. The thought drives me wild, makes me thrust harder, deeper.
"You'd be so fucking beautiful pregnant," I tell her, meaning every word. "Carrying my baby. Marked as mine inside and out." My hand slides to her flat stomach, spanning it completely. "Everyone would see it. Know who you belong to. Who put that baby inside you."
She arches beneath me, her body responding to the primitive images I'm painting. Her pussy clenches around me, drawing me deeper, milking my cock like it's trying to extract every drop of seed I have to give.
"Want that," she admits breathlessly, surprising me. "Want to be yours completely."
Her words push me closer to the edge. The thought of her actually carrying my child, of creating something permanentbetween us, something that can never be undone—it's too much. Too perfect.
"Mine," I groan, feeling my climax building rapidly. "All fucking mine. Forever."
I drive into her with renewed purpose, claiming her beneath the artificial stars just as men have claimed their women under real skies for thousands of years. The primitive ritual of possession, of breeding, transcending time and space in this moment between us.
Her orgasm takes me by surprise—her body suddenly tensing beneath me, back arching off the carpet, a cry escaping her lips that echoes through the domed space. Her inner walls clamp down on me like a vise, triggering my own release. I roar as I come, emptying myself inside her once more, pumping her full of my seed with such force that I see stars independent of the ones projected above us.
"That's it," I praise as I continue to thrust through my orgasm, making sure my cum gets as deep as possible. "Taking Daddy's seed so perfectly. Such a good girl."
When I finally collapse beside her, careful not to crush her with my weight, we both stare up at the glowing dome above us, breathing hard. My hand finds hers in the semi-darkness, engulfing it completely.
One night won't be enough. This connection, this claiming, can't be contained in a few hours of a power outage. I need her permanently. Need to wake up to her every morning, fill her every night, watch her body change as my seed takes root inside her.
"When the doors open," I say quietly, breaking the peaceful silence between us, "you're coming home with me."
It's not a question. Not a request. A statement of fact, of inevitability.
She turns her head to look at me, starlight reflecting in her eyes. "Yes," she agrees simply.
The single word is a promise, a surrender, an acceptance of everything I am and everything I want from her. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar emotion—something beyond lust, beyond possession. Something dangerously close to love, though it's too soon for that word.
"Forever," I add, needing her to understand the permanence I'm demanding.
She smiles, soft and certain in the starlight. "Forever, Daddy."
And beneath the artificial heavens, I make a silent vow that I will never let her go.
eleven
. . .
Tatianna
The moment shatterswith an electronic beep—sharp, insistent, out of place in our starlit sanctuary. We both freeze, Jerald still inside me, our breathing suspended as the sound repeats. Beep. Beep. Beep. A security panel somewhere nearby is activating, its rhythmic warning piercing the darkness like a knife. My body tenses beneath Jerald's massive frame, fear suddenly replacing the warm contentment that had enveloped me seconds ago. Is someone trying to get in? Police? Maintenance? My mind races through scenarios, each more mortifying than the last—being discovered naked, claimed, marked by a man I barely knew before tonight. What would they think? What would they say? How would I ever look my colleagues in the eye again?
"What is that?" I whisper, my voice tight with panic.
Jerald withdraws from me in one smooth motion, his body transforming before my eyes—the tender lover replaced by the trained predator. He's on his feet in seconds, pulling on his uniform pants with efficient movements.
"Security panel on the east entrance," he says, voice clipped and professional. "Could be a system reboot or someone trying to override the lockdown."
I scramble to my knees, tugging his shirt down to cover myself. "What do we do? If someone comes in?—"
"No one's coming in," he cuts me off, extending a hand to help me up. "And if they do, they'll have to go through me first."
The cold determination in his voice should frighten me, but instead, it sends a wave of security washing over me. This isn't just possessive talk in the heat of passion—this is a man trained to protect, to defend what's his.
