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“No.”
She sits up and turns on the light, frowning down at me as I rest my weight back on my elbows. “No?” Her brow furrows in confusion.
I shake my head. “No, Bets. You’ve already said the words so you can’t take them back.”
Betsy frowns, her naturally plump pink lips parting with a slight huff. “What does that even mean?”
I sit up so I can take one of her hands in mine. “It means, baby, that you have until bedtime on Christmas Day to come to terms with being claimed by an old, scarred curmudgeon. Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
She blinks at me slowly, then a tiny smirk pulls at the corner of her mouth. “Just to clarify, we are talking about you?”
I growl and reach one hand for her most ticklish spot just above the waist. My other arm reaches around to both brace her from falling and prevent her escape. Bets falls against my chest, laughing.
When her breathing returns to normal she says hesitantly, “Heath? I really need a few more words here. What’s going through your mind?”
I reach over her to turn off the light again, then snuggle her against me. “The thing is, Bets, in an odd way, I meant every word of those vows we spoke in front of a judge. It’s true I didn’t see you as a grownup, but you were barely one then. And then you had to go and mention breeding you bent over the kitchen counter.” I hesitate to take things further.
Betsy doesn’t. After a shocked moment of silence, her voice comes out with a subtle purr. “Did that turn you on, Heath? Do you want to put a baby in me so everyone knows I’ve been pumped full of your cum?”
“Brat,” I grumble, giving her flannel-covered rear a gentle swat. “Yes. But not tonight. Now go to sleep before I change my mind.”
She gives a soft, watery giggle before snuggling tighter into my embrace. I drop a quick kiss on her curls and pull her even tighter. I no longer have it in me to push her away, even for her own good.
Betsy
If it weren’t for Heath’s green eyes watching me with gentle tenderness I’d have dismissed last night as a bittersweet dream. Instead, I’m staring back at him, hoping against hope that he doesn’t take his words back in the cold light of day.
Finally he sighs. “Betsy, baby…”
“You didn’t mean it, did you?” I inquire sadly. But to my surprise Heath growls and rolls me under him.
“I did mean it, and we need to do something about your lack of trust.”
I squeak in protest, but he probably interprets that as objecting to his fingers tugging at my pajamas.
“How do you even get into these things?” he mutters in bewilderment.
“There’s a zipper, right here.” I guide his bigger hand to the metal ring currently positioned under my chin. Then gulp as he slowly slides it down to my navel. The cool air of the room followed by the heat of his palm as it glides over my belly makes me whimper.
“Mine now, Bets. And you need to know that I always take care of what’s mine. Trust me?”
I nod hesitantly. He always has taken care of me. Ever since he appeared in my life amidst the tragedy.
Heath shakes his head. “Not good enough, baby. Let’s see if we can improve on that answer.”
He doesn’t wait for my response. Instead, his thick fingers delve deep under the flannel of my pajamas. Seeking and finding my already slick folds, he nudges one knuckle against my entrance. Not nearly close enough. I squirm under him, trying to bridge the gap. Heath growls and pulls his hand back. Except it’s trapped in the crotch of my pajamas. I smirk up at him.
“Stay still, Bets. Show me that you trust me to take care of you.” His words click into place. I nod and widen the gap between my thighs. In theory, giving him better access but also literally forcing his hand as the soft fabric goes taunt.
It’s all I can do not to reach down and grab his wrist so I can grind against his criminally slow fingers. But I promised. So I grit my teeth and catalog each new sensation as Heath slides one thick finger into me. And I watch his eyes.
They’re solemn, those eyes of his as they watch me in turn. I smile suddenly and arch up to kiss his nose. He blinks. “What are you plotting, Betsy?” he asks gruffly.
“No plot. I love you, Heath. Just as you are. Even if you are slower than a turtle on a cold day.”
He snorts a surprised laugh and adds a second finger. I gasp a little as he hits a sweet spot. One that has my thighs clenching to hold his hand in place. He gives me a knowing look. “Trust, remember, baby?”
I nod, finding it hard to keep my eyelids open as he glides back and forth over that most delicious set of nerve endings. When it all builds to a climax, he pulls his hand away and hauls me against him. Kissing me deeply as my body shudders in release, he lets go of my lips only when I whimper with renewed need. When the spasms finally stop, I kiss the part of him I can reach right over his heart. “Oh, Heath,” I sigh.
