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Why?

Because he was so much more legal and respectable…

Fucking bullshit. That didn’t make him good for her.

So what was she asking for? Did she want to get rid of it?

That wasn’t happening. I’d have to talk her into keeping it. I would do anything to prove to her that she belonged with me.

But then the moment passed.

Thank. Fucking. God.

I had it wrong. Delila didn’t want to get rid of our baby; she was just worried that the old man had managed to knock her up.

Now freaking out about that was completely understandable. I wouldn’t want to think about my father and impregnation either.

But she had nothing to worry about. He’d been gone fucking his side-piece during Delila’s whole fertile window.

I was the one who had made sure to tie her down and take my cum, right when she was ripe and ready for it.

Even if that geezer had managed to get it up long enough to get the job done… even if one of his shriveled up little sperms wormed their way into Delila’s sweet pussy, it didn’t matter.

She was mine. That made any child that came out of her my fucking responsibility.

And speaking of responsibility—now that Delila was pregnant, it wasn’t time to mess around. It was time to set some new ground rules.

I scooped Delila off my bathroom counter, walking her back into my bedroom—like I’d wanted to do since the first moment Delila started puking. Since before the test results had popped up and confirmed what I already knew; the truth that was already burning in my gut.

As I laid Delila down on my bed, her pretty pink lips parted in surprise. I leaned over her, staring deep into her ocean eyes, watching how her pupils bloomed with desire the closer I got.

“You are my woman now.”

Without giving her a moment to protest, I yanked off the thin shorts and underwear separating us, leaving her bare before me. I reached down between her thighs and grabbed her pussy. Hard.

“I don’t care what your marriage certificate says. This is mine.”

Delila gasped, clutching at my hand, “Jax, what are⁠—”

“Say that this pussy is mine.” Without letting go, I slipped one finger deeper, straight to the part of her that would make her lose control. Pressing rough circles around her clit, with enough pressure to turn Delila into putty in my hands.

“Jax.” She tried shaking her head before getting lost to the pleasure, as I touched her right how she needed to be touched. “Oh, God.” Delila gave in and gripped the bed sheets, tight.

“Say it.” Loosening pressure from her clit until Delia writhed in frustration.

Good. Let her feel what it was like when I wasn’t in control of her pussy.

She wasn’t going to get off until she’d earned it. Delila needed to know that she was only going to come from me.

“It’s yours.” She moaned, arching her hips into my hands, desperate for the friction that would bring her over the edge.

Delila was being such a good girl. And good girls deserved to be rewarded.

Moving down her panting body, I settled between Delila’s creamy-white thighs, until I was eye to eye with her puffy lips. She was already dripping.

I had wondered for a while now if she tasted as good as she looked. I licked a strip right between her juicy folds.

Fuck.