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My. Fucking. Woman.
I quietly open the door. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, my lungs seize up.
Story is laying on our bed, completely naked, with her legs spread wide. Her head is tipped back, her fingers buried deep inside her snatch.
My heart skips a beat. Then another.
Stepping forward, my body drawn to hers like a moth to a flame, I take her in fully, committing her to memory. With her head thrown back in pleasure, her chest rising and falling with panting breaths, she has no idea I’m here. I feel like a lurker, a creep, but I don’t care. She’s mine. Every inch of her. And I'll look if I damn well please.
Story is stunning. Her body twists and turns like the plot of an award-winning thriller. She has curves and bumps, ripples and rolls. She’s natural, reminding me of a Greek goddess. She has hips meant for birthing babies and the sight of them has my starfish clenching around her used plug. I’m enraptured by her. But the part of her that makes my knees weakest is her soul.
It’s the mate of mine.
“Story,” I choke out. I love you. I clear my throat, shifting awkwardly. “I, uh, have your medicine.”
Her eyes fly open and she sucks in a breath. I tense as her eyes rove over my naked body, taking in every exposed inch. Will she hate what she sees?
“Wowza,” she breathes. Her throat bobs and her little tongue darts out, sliding across her lips. “Hubba hubba.”
An unexpected chuckle bursts from me, and she shoots me a bashful smile, breaking the tension.
“You like what you see, bed bug?” I murmur, stepping closer. It hasn’t escaped my attention that her fingers are still buried deep inside her.
Her brows wiggle adorably. “So much yes.”
My knees hit the bed and I tilt my jaw to get a better view. My hand clenches around the glass jar. Damn. She’s really in there. “You’re not in pain, baby?”
“Not really,” she says as a soft pussy squelch reaches my lucky ears. “Do you want me to stop, Freddikins?”
I sputter out a shocked gasp.
“Hell no!” I bring the jar up, showing it to her. The only light in the room is from the partially open bathroom door, so hopefully she can’t fully make it out. “Actually, this is perfect. Why don’t you keep going. Distract yourself while I apply your medicine.”
“Medicine?” She pouts, her hand working faster. “I don’t need medicine, quiche.”
“Of course, you do. It’ll help you feel better.” Because everyone feels better when they’re pregnant, right? That’s what the maternal glow is all about.
But…wait…
“You’re not on birth control, are you?”
She gives me a strange look. “No.” Her eyes flick down in embarrassment as she whispers, “I want kids too much to risk messing with my cycle.”
Thank fuck.
“That’s so good, baby,” I praise, loving her responding smile. “And when was your last period?” I climb onto the bed between her legs and tap her knee. “Open wider for me.”
Story immediately spreads her thighs enough to accommodate my large body and I scoot as close as I can get. For a moment, I get distracted by the sight of her small hand nearly buried deep inside her sopping sex.
What a damn sight.
“A few weeks ago,” she murmurs. I flick my gaze to her pretty face, watching as her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “Actually, I’m, uh,” she trails off, plucking her turgid peeks with a breathy moan. “I’m ovulating right now.”
“Oh, fuck.” I groan as pre-ejac shoots all over her kitty. She whimpers at the sight and scoops it up, using it to rub her nubbin. “Are you really ovulating?”
Nodding, she lets out an adorably sexy whine. “I want you to fertilize my womb, Fred. I want it so bad.”
More jizz shoots out and I quickly lean forward, directing it at her frantically moving fingers.
