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Now I was a college student, had a boyfriend—it felt weird calling Elden that, but that was the only label I used out of necessity—and was pregnant again. This time with a baby that was much wanted.
“We’re living here?” I repeated, staring at the wild garden which had held on through the winter, the charming façade, the walkway, the desert all around, the closest houses specs in the distance.
I loved this house. Had fantasized about us living in something similar to this.
“Not havin’ you living at a clubhouse while you’re pregnant, much less with a newborn,” Elden said, hand on my stomach. “We need a home.”
My heart stuttered. My foundation cracked a tiny bit.
A home.
Something so simple yet complicated at the same time.
Something so wonderful yet terrifying at the same time.
“If you don’t want to live here, we can find something else,” Elden said, judging my silence as disappointment.
“No!” I replied much louder than I’d intended. I looked at him. “No,” I repeated, looking into his eyes. “I want this.”
He leaned in to kiss my head. “Good.”
I let out a squeal as he lifted me into his arms and strode down the walkway.
“What are you doing?”
He shifted me in his arms so he could open the door. “Carrying you over the threshold.”
I frowned. “That’s only for brides.” The mere thought of that made my skin itch.
“Maybe I just wanted you in my arms,” he snickered.
I couldn’t argue with that.
I looked around once he set me on my feet in the middle of the living room. Most of the furniture that Mom had when she lived here remained, apart from the velvet sofa she’d loved. In its place was a cozy looking, white slip covered sofa and two new, vintage looking armchairs. There was also a new addition … an entire wall of bookshelves and a drawing desk.
“Your mom chose the sofa and chairs,” Elden explained. “Bookcases were my idea, for all your dragon and magic smut.”
His hand moved up the side of my body to caress my very sensitive nipples, and I let out a little moan of pleasure.
Elden loved my fantasy novels. He routinely took me shopping for new ones. Book boyfriends didn’t threaten him one bit. Likely because he was like one come to life.
“I figured you’d want to put your stamp on it,” he continued, voice thick with desire. “We can get whatever you want.”
“What I want,” I breathed, looking up at him. “Is for you to fuck me.”
His eyes flared, and I was in his arms again. My legs wrapped around his waist.
“Oh, I’ve been planning on doin’ that from the second we pulled up,” he growled against my mouth, setting me down by the sofa.
He whirled me around so I was facedown, my arms resting on the edge of the sofa.
I shivered as his hand snaked down my back and around, undoing my jeans before making quick work of taking them and my boots off.
I was exposed to him in a second, already wild and ravenous for him.
His calloused hand ran along the skin of my ass then around to my pussy, cupping me where I was already wet for him. My knees shook as he coated his finger with me.
“Yeah, my bad girl is ready for me,” he rasped, using his feet to kick my legs out wider, to press me farther down so I was more exposed to him.
