Page 58 of Bound Hearts

“So what does it entail exactly?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Just, you know, the board could decide that bachelor me doesn’t fulfill the clause, and they can claim some percent of shares. Perhaps, a wife might imply I’m settled enough, hopefully.” There is a vagueness in his facial expression, but I ignore it.

“Why do you think she did it?”

“It was her way of ensuring that I’m happy. Having a wife and kids. Not being alone.”

“Uhh.” I’m not sure how to analyze this information. “How come you’re only now telling me?”

“Truthfully? It seems so minor compared to everything else. I told my dad that I would never settle down just because of business. But since our situation suddenly screams that I’m not a bachelor, then it could raise some brows in the family.”

That’s true, he isn’t a bachelor anymore. “Tell me there isn’t some clause that there has to be an heir or something like that?” I joke.

He holds his grin, but it’s strained. “If there was, would it be a dealbreaker?” He nervously laughs it off.

Thinking about it, what can I do? He isn’t the one who wrote the will. “You can’t change her will. There is nothing we could do about that. I wouldn’t be thrilled that this child would play a role in the family business and hope it isn’t expected that they inherit the business, either. They should follow their own path of joy.”

“I think finding my own path is probably why my mom felt she should guide me on life paths or something.”

True. Foster does things his way. That’s why he is crunching numbers in logistics and not selling million-dollar buildings.

I shrug. “I’m not sure what to say.”

He glances down at our hands. “I just wanted to tell you.”

He leans in, his hand links behind my neck to pull me to him, our foreheads touching. “I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he vows.

And I believe him.

Inhaling his scent, his breath so near, and the warmth of him close, I whisper the truth. “I trust you.”

Our lips find one another in a deep and long kiss. Sliding off the bed, I keep our lips cemented as I move in an attempt to sit on his lap. But he unglues us, gripping my hips to stay in place, standing before him with my stomach in his direct sightline. He splays his hands up on my belly.

“More beautiful by the day,” his voice grates.

Blushing, I try to look away.

“Come here,” he requests softly as his hands begin to guide me to turn around, then he pulls my hips to encourage me to sit on top of him, my back flush to his body. “Look.” He drags his tongue along the outline of my ear.

My eyes cannot help but drift ahead, and I see us in the reflection of the long mirror. He wants me to watch him torture me, and my pussy begins to throb, especially when I feel his hands quickly reach between us to untie the towel before unclasping my bra.

I pull the straps down and toss my bra to the side, where it lands on the floor. Right away, I notice how my breasts have changed. Heavier, my nipples darker, and even the air against them is taunting my sensitivity alive. Bringing my hand up, I cup one and flick my thumb across the nipple. My eyelids grow heavy, and I feel Foster hard as a rock, poking my lower back.

“Open your legs wide,” he demands, his voice thick, and his mouth scrapes against my neck.

Listening, I spread my legs, my tippy toes still on the ground. Without warning, he sneaks his fingers under the fabric of my panties to stroke my clit, causing me to inhale a sharp breath.

His pace is not too slow nor too fast. Still, it’s bringing agony as my pussy craves more.

“You see in the mirror?” His fingers continue to play me like a violin as his other hand gives my other breast attention, cupping the weight in his palm. “How we touch you? With my ring on your finger? Completely mine.”

“Mmhmm.” I’m fighting a shameless moan as I’m already getting closer to the edge.

He twists my nipple between the pads of his thumb and finger, and my thighs widen even more, causing my pussy to spread and more on offer to Foster.

“I have plans for you, Sutton.” His hand travels up to the base of my throat, wrapping around gently but possessively. “As our baby grows, I’ll fuck you in every position they say will make you feel good. You want that?”

“Fuck, yes.” I’m struggling to breathe normally.