The excitement in my chest as she casually swallows a sleeping pill when we get back that evening is wrong, so wrong.
But I can’t deny it. I’m instantly hard.
The rest of the evening at the opera with Taggie was as torturous as the day without her. I might never focus on anything, ever again, that isn’t her.
She might be pregnant.
This is a house of cards, for sure. One breath, one shaking hand, and it will fall. Taggie will try to run, I’ll stop her, and she’ll hate me for keeping her captive.
Or she’ll figure out she’s carrying my child—she will sooner or later because I don’t think I can stop having her—and the tentative friendship we’ve built will collapse.
“I’m bushed,” she says, and covers her mouth as she yawns.
Why does she need the tablet if she’s tired?
“I’m off to bed.” Standing, she approaches with a sweet smile, sliding her little fingers into my lapel. In a trance, I lean down. I grunt a reply as she gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek.
It burns.
“Goodnight!” There’s something in her eye, a glint, as she casts one last look over her shoulder.
I don’t tell her to lock her door. I couldn’t bear it if she locked me out tonight.
I need her.
For the first hour I sit with my head in my hands, alternately telling myself this is the last time, or I won’t go to her ever again, and knowing I can’t prevent myself tonight or any other night going forward. All I can do is pray she doesn’t wake.
Then I go to my office, and attempt to work. I reply to the messages from the cuckoo—Harrison—about Thaxted. Apparently he’s discovered that I killed his three stupid sons. There could be consequences, and I ensure my men are informed of the heightened threat. I increase the security at the house, and allocate two more to guard Taggie’s grandmother.
Then I go through numbers and reports, making myself look at them.
I swear four hours pass, but it turns out to be twelve minutes when I check my watch.
Then after an agony, I shower. My cock is stiff and thick, and I stroke it as the scalding water beats down on my head and runs over my chest.
I don’t make myself come. I save it for her.
I’m a perverted fuck, but I’m going to do it again. It doesn’t hurt her, I rationalise as I pad silently down the corridor to her room. I haven’t even bothered getting dressed. I’m not pretending this time. My hair is still wet, and I’m naked, my rigid cock beading with pre-come. It’s past one in the morning.
She took a pill, and she left her door unlocked when I told her repeatedly not to. Taggie is in my house, and she belongs to me and that she doesn’t realise is a small inconvenience.
I hold my breath as I swing open the door, then my head spins.
Her naked body is entirely exposed, and she’s asleep on her back, bathed in the light from a small lamp.
“My sleeping beauty. Mia bambola.” I slip into Italian, praising her in a low, hoarse tone as I approach and stand over her peacefully resting body that I’m going to defile.
I run my fingertips over her creamy white thighs, and over her soft belly. Her legs are parted, as though in welcome. It’s her way of sleeping, but my brain interprets it as an invitation that her right leg is bent and angled upwards, revealing the pretty pink petals of her sex.
And they’re wet.
There’s no hesitation tonight, just hunger.
Eagerly, I get my shoulders between her knees, and my face where she smells like she’s mine. I take one, long greedy lick.
“Delicious.”
She quakes beneath me. I put my mouth on her and suck. I devour her. Gorge. Cover my cheeks with her cream until her hips are chasing my tongue and my cock is hard and aching.
“I can’t wait, bambola.” It’s a rough admission as I lever myself up. “Forgive me.” I crawl over her. “I know you need to come, but I have to feel you. It’ll be just the tip. Only for a second. You’ll never know… Until you’re perfectly rounded with our baby.”
I run my hand over her belly, imagining I can feel a curve.
“After hearing you say you wanted children…” I’ve given in to all my most feral desires. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you pregnant.” And pray she forgives me.
Delicately, I lean down and kiss her mouth.
Her breathing isn’t quite even. It’s shallow and fast, and something at the back of my head shouts no. It roars that I should stop.
But my lust is too strong. I can’t listen to logic.
“I love you,” I whisper as I reach down and notch us together, then pause, choked. Because it feels so right. She’s incredibly silky and yielding. Made for me.
And yet she isn’t. She’s asleep.
I tell myself it’s for the best.
“You feel like heaven,” I murmur brokenly as I push into her past the resistance of her body that’s there even though she’s soaking wet.
“Taggie, you’re so beautiful.” I sweep my gaze over her luscious little tits. The sight of the tip of my cock wedged into her soaking pink folds almost causes me to lose control. But I grit my teeth. Because this time, she doesn’t clench around me, tipping me over.
That’s a good thing. Surely. I’m not disappointed, because I get to be inside her and kiss her.
I want to be deeper, to have her, to spill right up against her womb and make her pregnant. But this will have to be enough. A sweet dream.
I drag my gaze up, shaking at the sight of her. She’s breathing a little fast. I’m going to steal another kiss while I make myself come in her entrance. Just the tip.
Reaching to my cock, I pump the exposed part of the shaft then sigh as I lift my head to kiss her lips, as though she wants this.
The shock is lightning.
Because a pair of midnight-blue eyes look up at me.
She’s awake.
