“I’m pregnant.”
10
Logan
“Pregnant.” The sound of that word is like a shot to my heart, or maybe more like a syringe of adrenaline.
“You mean you’re really—”
“Pregnant.” She nods, tears in her eyes.
Everything inside me goes off at once, like a fireworks show accidentally lit up all at once. I let out a barbaric yawp and twirl her around. She squeals with amusement. I’ve never been so full of joy and excitement in life—except for perhaps the day I married Quinn. God, we’ve been trying to make a baby, and my beautiful, wonderful wife has done it. Happiness is helium, lifting me off my feet as I twirl her and smile so big my face might crack.
Then I remember. Pregnant. So I put her down. God, what am I thinking?
“I didn’t mean to do that.” I walk her toward the bed and ease her onto it. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Hurt me? No.” She looks at me, somewhat perplexed as I carefully place a pillow behind her head.
“That was foolish of me.” I cup her face in my hands and smile at her. “You’re in no condition to have me manhandling you.”
She takes one of my hands and presses it to her abdomen. “I’m pregnant, Logan. Not on death’s doorstep. Don’t be afraid to hold me.”
“Never.” I pull her into my arms as carefully as I can. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt her or our child growing inside her.
“Really, Logan. I’m not going to break.” She kisses me, then presses against me harder.
I want to deepen the kiss, to pin her to the bed and celebrate every bit of happiness and excitement. Making her come, making her scream my name. But won’t that hurt her? I can’t do that. And the things I’ve already been thinking about—rougher play in the bedroom—well, all that has to stop. She’s delicate, more so now than ever.
Easing back, I break our kiss. “We have to be careful, sugar.”
“Careful?” She looks up at me. “No.”
“What?” I don’t understand.
“I don’t want to be careful. I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” She reaches for my cock, palming the hard length of me.
“Quinn, please.” I take her wrist and pull it away.
The hurt that crosses her face is like a punch to my gut, and I instantly regret pulling her hand away. But I can’t let her do anything that might endanger her.
“Why are you like this?” A tear rolls down her cheek. “Keeping things from me, not wanting to touch me—”
“I always want to touch you.”
“But you just—”
“I always want my mouth on that sweet, hot cunt.”
She gasps.
I yank down her pants, taking her panties with them and tossing them in a tangled mess on the floor.
“Logan!” She tries to kick me. “I’m still mad at you.”
I grab her foot and hold it, then spread her legs wide.
“No! You’re being a jerk!” She brings her knee up, but I wrench it back down. A moan escapes her as I pin her hips to the bed and use my shoulders to pin her legs apart. Her pussy is already glistening wet for me. Just the thought of my seed growing in her belly has me salivating to taste her.
She bucks.
I keep her pinned to the bed, though I’m careful not to put any pressure on her abdomen. “You don’t want me to lick you here?” I run my tongue along her slit, getting a thorough taste of her sweet honey.
“Logan!” She grips the sheets in her hands.
“So you don’t want me to do this?” I flick my tongue on her clit, her hips jumping with each impact. “Is that right?”
I move my hands to her ass and squeeze, lifting her cunt to my face like a platter. When I dig in, I bury my tongue inside her, sucking her wet flesh as she arches off the bed. I’ll never hurt her, but I can still pleasure her. My tongue has always given her just what she needs. Even if I want more, I need to control myself now more than ever. Any thoughts I may have had about getting more adventurous have to be put to bed.
Squeezing her ass tighter, I suck her clit between my teeth. She’s moving her hips against me, lost to the sensation of what I’m doing to her. Grinding on my face, she’s chasing her orgasm. I love her like this, so wild and focused on her pleasure.
She takes it, hitting the crest as I tongue her clit. The orgasm washes over her, drowning her in bliss until her body is lax.
I back off onto my knees, then lie beside her and pull her to me. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I’m …”
I kiss her crown.
She sighs. “I have things. Things we need to talk about.” She yawns.
“Like remodeling the closet?”