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“The prince.”
With a ‘who cares’ shrug, Amber-Rose serves me a seductive smile as she makes her way into the bathroom inside my office. Her glorious backside sways, sending a series of pings through me and my manhood.
“I’ll let you get away with that,” I say to her. “This time.”
The condom barely clings to my cock, and it almost slips off when I get up. The wrapper says it’s ‘large,’ but it’s way too tight!
My balls distend when I stand behind Amber-Rose, hair messy while her body stretches, accentuating her curves. Soon my cock wakes up too, and now my crotch hurts like hell—a good kind of hell.
I stand over the trash can, ready to pull off the well-filled Durex. It’s really wet on the outside. Very wet. It could be her juice, but I wonder if—
“What’s wrong?” Amber-Rose clearly wants to know why I’m clinging to the piece of rubber.
“I think it leaked.”
She looks at me, seemingly trying to assess what she’s feeling. She steps closer, looking at the sorry rubber sheath still hanging on my cock. “Don’t worry about it.” Then her head tilts up to me. “What?”
“I don’t know.” Now I’m appraising my own feelings.
“What are the chances you knocked me up just now?” She’s obviously trying to play down my concern.
The theory of probability is good for a lot of things. But this time, I don’t think it helps.
She adds, “Even if you did, I wouldn’t be upset about it.”
Surprisingly, the thought of her carrying my baby makes me feel proud, manly, and fortunate. With that, I feel the walls inside me crumble. Having a family with a woman has never been on my agenda, but being with Amber-Rose now, I’m adamant that if it’s my destiny, I’ll only do it with her. Anyone else will feel wrong.
“What about you?” Her face tenses at the delay in my response.
“I wouldn’t either,” I say and let the condom flops into the bin.
She exhales, puckering her lips sweetly in agreement.
“You were incredible, Rob,” she murmurs.
“So were you,” I say in her ear, licking her lobe.
This girl is impossible. She fixes toys for a living, she remembers the names of the three bears at the Bern Bear Park, and she has a potent amount of lust that makes her a siren. This afternoon is more than her fireworks on display. It’s a revelation, and I like what I see.
She reaches for my comb.
“Leave the mess,” I whisper, standing behind her, nuzzling at her nape. I don’t want her to lose her sexed-up look, and I won’t hesitate to show it off to the outside world and claim responsibility.
She simply smiles at me and carries on with tidying her mane. Only when she lifts up the bulk of her hair do I see the mark on her back. It must be from the coat stand.
“Does it hurt?” I trail a finger along the red line. When I plant a kiss on it, her back contracts, and a sigh lifts from her mouth.
“Just like the sex, it’s so good, it hurts,” she purrs.
A little bit of pain can definitely go a long way. I leave her alone when she starts touching up her makeup, taking the opportunity for a quick shower.
“We’d better go soon.” I rush to dry myself.
“You want me to come with you?” she says calmly, pressing her lips together to even out her lipstick. God, how I want to ravage them—again!
“Of course I want you to come with me. I want you to present that bear to the prince. He’ll be delighted.”
“In a shirt and jeans?”
