Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Look at yourself. Look at how fucking perfect you are.” His pace picks up as his cock pounds into me with a rhythm that has me seeing stars. I can feel every ridge, every vein, and it’s so good I’m losing my mind.
“Come for me,” one of his hands slides around to my clit. When he rubs hard circles on the sensitive bud, I come screaming his name. “That’s it. Come all over my cock.” And just like that, another orgasm blasts through me causing my body to convulse as pleasure crashes through me. He doesn’t even pause. Instead, he keeps fucking me through it, his thrusts getting harder and faster, until he’s slamming into me so hard the mirror rattles.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice strained. “I’m gonna fill you up.” And he does, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes, hot and thick. I can feel it leaking out of me as he pulls out, and I watch in the mirror as it drips down my thighs. He leans down, kissing my shoulder, and I can’t help but laugh, giddy and spent.
“Wow,” I tell him, and he just grins, looking way too proud of himself.
“That’s just the beginning,” he says, and damn it, he’s right.
CHAPTER 16
NAOMI
Three weeks later, I wake up to the sound of Wyatt softly snoring into my hair and the sudden, irresistible urge to puke my guts out. It’s not the first time this has happened, and I’m starting to suspect there’s a reason for my sudden nausea. And my sensitive tits and my zigzagging emotions. Oof.
I disentangle myself from his massive arms and tiptoe to the bathroom, trying not to trip over his running shoes on the way. I barely make it to the toilet before the retching starts.
When I finish, I rinse my mouth and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale, my lips are chapped, and my eyes look pretty dull.
Wyatt appears in the doorway, shirtless and half-awake, blinking blearily. “You okay?” His voice is rough, gravelly with sleep and concern.
I nod, trying not to worry him. “Probably just a bug.”
He squints at me and blinks several times. “Bullshit.” He watches me for a long moment, then tilts his head. “When was your last period?”
I freeze, hand halfway to my hair. I try to count back, but all the weeks blur together. After the chaos of moving in, the late nights at the club, the stress of getting kidnapped by a psycho, my mind has been a little occupied. “I… I’m not sure.”
Wyatt’s eyes go round. He hastily pulls on jeans. “We need a test. Now. I’m not getting excited until we know for sure I knocked your gorgeous ass up.”
I try to protest, but he’s halfway out the door before I can argue. He’s back in fifteen minutes with a pharmacy bag and a look on his face like he’s about open all his Christmas presents.
I don't protest when he follows me into the bathroom. His presence is a comforting shadow. He stands by, watching intently as I take the pregnancy test and place it carefully on the cool, marble counter. The atmosphere around us is tense with anticipation as he sets a timer on his phone, then wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his warm embrace.
The seconds tick by, each one echoing in the quiet room, until the timer finally chimes, breaking the silence. Together, we turn to look at the small white window on the test, and find a vivid, undeniable blue, plus sign that practically shouts its message.
I meet his gaze, a smile spreading across my face even as tears well up in my eyes. "We're pregnant," I whisper the words, trembling with emotion.
His eyes light up as he looks at me then he lets out an exuberant whoop, and lifts me off my feet in a joyous swirl. "God, I love you," he exclaims, his voice full of wonder and excitement.
Laughter bubbles up between us, a shared melody of disbelief and overwhelming love. It's the kind of laugh that springs from the heart, where surprise and joy intertwine.
"I suppose we’d better hurry up and get married," I chuckle, the sound bubbling up from my chest, "so my mom doesn’t give you a black eye."
Wyatt’s grin spreads across his face. “We’re getting married today,” he declares, his eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement.
I can’t help but picture my mother’s reaction when we finally share the news. The thought sends waves of happiness crashing over me, almost rendering me breathless.
As Wyatt wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace, his warmth envelops me like a cozy blanket. Then he pulls back slightly as his expression shifts to one of earnest seriousness. “You’re okay with this, right?” he asks, his voice low and steady, searching my eyes for reassurance.