“…have to tell you now…” I gasp the words as our lips come apart, meeting his eyes, staring as he pummels me from below. He has to hear this. He has to know.
“What is it, Safi? What’s so impor—”
“…think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” For a second, his body stills as he stares at me, then it’s like a piston pounding me into next week as he kisses my neck, my face, bringing us both closer while he talks. “A baby. Fucking perfect. My fucking sweet treat. Everything I ever needed but didn’t know I wanted, right here. I love you. Love you so much. Best wedding gift you could have got me. Oh, fuck, I’m close, Safi.”
“Me too…give me a countdown.”
He laughs, kissing the side of my face as he thrusts inside. “Three.”
“Three…” I echo.
“Two.”
“Oh, God…two!”
“One.”
“One! Now, Roman, tell me I can go now!”
He grins, holding himself still for an agonizing moment, then, “Come for me, baby.”
I scream so loud, every guest in the casino hotel must have heard it. My body quivers as I release the tension, muscles relaxing and tensing, relaxing and tensing as I hiss like a pressure valve. Waves of pleasure rock through me, my mind barely able to hold onto reality as I drift on the ocean of our love for each other.
And love it is.
Pure, undiluted, unfiltered love. We can’t get enough of each other and I’m sure we never will. Even Clarissa, tears in her eyes at the wedding, had to admit that she was wrong about him, that he’s not the man his reputation would suggest.
As for my brother, and my sister-in-law, Teri, everything is working out. Anthea has stayed, and Roman insisted that I increase her wages, paid for by him out of the wealth he tells me is virtually limitless. He’s looking into special therapies for my brother, too, and while I’m not getting my hopes up it’s hard not to be optimistic. If we can just hold a conversation one more time it will mean everything to me.
“Calm down, sweet treat,” Roman coos as he strokes my forehead, and the world comes back into focus. “Lost you there for a moment,” he says, smiling down like an Olympian God on a favored mortal.
“I’m so happy,” I murmur, and his eyes turn glassy with a mixture of mirth and adoration.
“That’s the dopamine and serotonin talking. Give it a minute and you’ll remember that I’m a monster and you’ve been captured against your will.”
I playfully punch his arm, but I’m not even sure he feels it. Big as he is, I think I could hurl rocks and he’d shrug them off like sand.
“I am happy,” I tell him. “I have everything I could ever wish for. A home, someone who loves me, a baby on the way, and just a few months until I’m a fully qualified chef. And you’re my monster. My own.”
I wrap my legs around him and feel the head of his cock against my pussy, hard again already. I know I’m teasing, but I can’t help it when I rock my hips, rubbing myself against him.
Roman’s eyebrows come together in a thoughtful frown, and he meets my eyes. “Is it possible to put another baby inside you when you’re already pregnant?”
I chuckle, still barely able to believe I’m his first sexual partner, or that I’ll be his last. He’s told me so many times but it still takes a moment to sink in. No other little Romans running around Detroit, ready to one day call him daddy.
Shaking my head, I lean in for a kiss, then lower my voice to a whisper. “I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.”
“Want to try, my sweet treat?”
Yes.
Always, yes.
Second Epilogue
Roman
Ten years later
“Kids, your auntie and uncle are here!”
I hear a squeal of delight from the east wing of the house as Teri enters with Max in his wheelchair. He holds out a hand for me to shake and I do so, unsure if today he remembers who I am or not until he speaks.
“Roman,” he says, grinning, his voice a little difficult to understand at first but easier once you get to know him. “Romulus and Remus. The twins who founded Rome. Suckled by a she-wolf.”
I laugh, nodding. He’s told me the story dozens of times before, but I don’t care, it’s just good to see such an improvement. “Come on through and tell me the whole thing,” I say, nodding to Teri as we all head through to the front room.
Anthea, Max’s nurse, is still on the payroll, and she’s earning more now than she would anywhere else. I like to reward loyalty, and I know it always pays off in the end. She and Max get along well, and it’s partly thanks to her efforts, prodding his mind with random facts about his life, testing him on things that he remembers, that he’s responded so well to the experimental treatments and therapies we’ve had him on.