He loves me.

He loves me.

I have to keep repeating it in my head like a mantra. Broken record. The way I used to sit in front of my VCR, rewinding Titanic over and over again to watch the steamy sexy bits.

He loves me.

Zane Tanner, CEO of Tanner Manufacturing, certified asshole, billionaire playboy and the best sex I’ve ever had loves me.

And like, oh shit.

I told him that I love him too.

The way Zane kisses me, squeezing my breasts in his big, firm hands, I know it’s real. He fucking means it. Zane jokes around a lot. When it comes to business, he plays ball. But he doesn’t lie to me. He’s never lied.

The same can’t be said for David—or for the guy before him—or, hell, any other guy I’ve ever dated in my life. I am endlessly attracted to morally bankrupt douche-asses and even though I thought Zane was cut from that exact same douche-ass cloth, I’m finding it harder and harder to believe.

So he fucked some supermodels on my desk. Probably just to get a rise out of me. At least he wasn’t fucking them in my bed. Douche-ass David sure as hell can’t say the same. If a supermodel foursome is the worst that Zane Tanner has got, then fine by me. He can do his worst.

Considering that Zane doing his best means that I get to feel my body wracked by wave after wave of incredible orgasms from his lips, tongue, fingers and cock (not necessarily in that order), I think I finally forgive him the atrocities committed atop my desk.

Because he loves me.

He actually fucking loves me.

Yeah, alright. That might have something to do with it.

When Zane kisses me, he pushes me around. It makes me feel pretty fucking manhandled. Luckily, I like that more than I should.

Zane's getting me into bed with him. One way or another. I remember the way he picked me up and tossed me into it last time. The way the plush pillows cradled my naked body, the coolness of the sheets, Zane's warmth on top of me. We were giggling then. Laughing. Joking around.

But now Zane loves me, and things seem so much more serious than that. This isn't some silly toss-around fuck-about kind of fuck.

If he wasn't being so rough with me, I wouldn't think of it as a fuck at all. But Zane doesn't know how to have sex any way but full-on and all in. Roughness is his weapon of choice. It's something that I've always loved about rolling around naked with him. There's a tenderness there too, though. In the way his body feels against mine. In the energy that wraps around the both of us like a warm blanket on a cold night.

He loves me.

He really loves me.

Fuck.

Zane's arms wrap around me while his tongue slips between my lips, kissing me like I've never been kissed before. He tastes like alcohol, the bitter, heady burn of hard liquor.

He's been drinking. Shit. Is that what this is about? He's gone out and gotten drunk, and now suddenly he loves me and he wants to put a baby in me?

No. That's not it. It can't be. The ghost of a drink might be on Zane's tongue, but he's not drunk. Lovesick confessions from the bottom of a liquor bottle are hardly Zane's thing anyway. Just because I can taste booze on his tongue doesn't mean that this is any less real.

I need to stop overthinking this, but it's like I fucking can't. He loves me. Me! The woman who he's been at odds with in the boardroom for so many years now. The woman who twisted his balls with a fucking contract, demanding him to give her a baby. Knowing what I know now, that must have seemed like the ultimate asshole move on my part. Considering the shit with his dad. Considering the way that must have fucked him up when it comes to having a kid of his own.

Maybe that's why he was such a dick when I called him to tell him I wasn't pregnant. I don't know. Maybe that's just the way Zane is.

But he loves me.

He loves me, he's sorry, and he's here now to make it all better.

By filling me up with his hard, gorgeous cock, fucking me senseless and knocking me up.

I know how much baby batter Zane has to offer, and the fact that he loves me makes it all the sweeter.

He loves me. He wants me. And all that baby batter? It's fucking mine.

He lays me down on the bed, with an intense energy. There's love in the way he does it, careful to cradle my head and put me down gently. But there's that roughness, too. The way he holds me down when he's got me where he wants me, nested among a dozen cloud-soft decorative pillows atop a down comforter so dense that even when you're awake, it feels like a dream.

"Stop fucking thinking, Piper." He breaks our kiss to stare down at me with the most intense look I've ever seen in his hazelnut eyes.

"I'm…I'm not," I say, more breathless than I realized.

"Yes, you fucking are. I can fucking hear the wheels in that clever little head of yours turning. You're not allowed to worry about anything. Not right now."

"I…I'm not," I lie again. Because yeah, that worked so well the first time.

I'm not a good liar. It never seemed like a good skill to develop until now. And I can tell from the way that Zane looks at me as he tears off his tie and rips off his shirt that he can see right through me. Like trying to hide behind curtains made of lace.

"You need to turn off, Piper," he growls, low and threatening.

He tosses the shirt and tie across the room. They hit the wall harder than I thought mere cloth could.

"I thought the whole point of this was to turn me on," I say with a small laugh.

Ha. Ha. Very funny, Piper. Great joke. Cue rimshot.

Zane moves towards me, unbuckling his belt.

"I think you're already turned on."

Okay, well, that's true. How could I be anything but turned on when Zane Tanner is in my room with an “I love you” and no shirt on?

But how could he possibly know that?

Like he can read my fucking mind, Zane loses his pants and forces my legs open with one hand. I resist a little at first, but fuck. I don't want to. Why am I fighting him? Why can't I just give in.

"You're wet," Zane accuses, and then his fingers probe beneath my panties as if to prove it. "Oh, Piper. You're so fucking wet for me."

My hips betray me in the way they rock up to try and grind my clit against his hand before he withdraws it.

He raises his fingers to my lips and I can smell myself on them. It's the most crazy, insanely good smell in the entire world. Different than usual, and all the better for it.

"Your body wants me," Zane says.

Yeah, no fucking duh.

"You want me," he continues.

And yeah, that's true as well. I fucking must.

"If you don't stop looking so nervous, I'm going to have to make you remember how good this is."

I bite my lip, looking more nervous than ever.

Zane pounces on my pussy like this is some kind of nature documentary. He's the noble panther, hunting in the jungle, and I'm his favorite kind of prey.

His mouth finds my cunt, slipping with ease between my hot, silky pussylips, and he starts feasting on me like I'm a fresh kill.

I'm still reeling from what just happened. These last few weeks have been a rollercoaster in more ways than one. It's not just Zane. Deciding to have a baby with half his DNA. Learning that he's so much more than the playboy billionaire that he has always pretended to be. That maybe he thinks he needs to be.

There's also crazy David and his crazy bullshit.

The massive let-down from learning that Zane hadn't knocked me up yet.

A billion and one other things so boring that even I don't want to think about them. Being the CEO of a major corporation was never going to be an easy job. Tack on all the other little stresses of life to my job description and you have a perfect recipe for how to become the uptight cunt I was when Zane first decided that he wanted to fuck me.

Dishes.

Traffic.

Life is stress, and I know it just as well as anyone.

But as Zane's hot tongue snakes up and down the length of my slit, lingering at my clit for just long enough to make me writhe and whimper and moan, it's like all of that melts away.

Like sugar in a cup of hot tea.

I'm melting for him.

Zane wraps his hands beneath me, shoving my pussy even harder against his mouth. His fingers press into the meat of my asscheeks, massaging them while he eats my wet, throbbing cunt. Every lick is becoming more and more unbearably pleasurable. My nipples are hard for him beneath the oversized sweatshirt I was wearing when he came in. They stand out agains the thin fabric, and suddenly Zane's fingers have abandoned my ass to descend upon them. He pinches them, teasing them through the fabric. Like he's trying to tune an old radio to the right channel while his tongue thrusts against my clit over and over again.

Whatever he's probing for, he finds it. My cunt explodes in orgasm, gushing honey all over his face. My body explodes in ecstasy, twitching and stiffening and spasming totally out of control.

My mind. Inside my head, all my thoughts and fears and worries and stresses are suddenly like words written in the sand on a beach, and the orgasm that Zane gives me is a cool, refreshing tide rolling in. When it washes back out, they're all gone. Erased. Like they were never there to begin with. And in its wake, the beach is flawless. White sand, not even a footprint. Pure and pristine.

Zane raises his head up from between my legs, breathless. His pupils are dilated almost as big as I know mine must be. We're both panting, chests heaving in unison. His hair is a mess, and I realize suddenly that I must have been running my fingers through it.

The way he looks at me, I can tell he's in love with me. Maybe I've known all along. Maybe I've just been so insecure and idiotic and dumb and afraid when it comes to this absolute hurricane of a man that I couldn't believe it. It didn't seem real.

And then he said it: I love you. And now it does.

Post-orgasm Piper is zen for a moment. She just wants to curl up around Zane, wind between his legs like a purring cat. Get scratched behind the ears and be given a treat.

But then Zane takes his boxers off.

We all fucking know what he keeps beneath those boxers, ladies.

Cock. Big, hard, twelve inches of love meat ready to pump me full of baby batter and make me a mommy.

Slutty Piper rears her slutty head so fast that it's a surprise we all don't get whiplash, and baby-crazy Piper isn't far behind.

Zane loves me. Fuck. I think about it as I'm sucking his cock, going down on him so fast and hot and sloppy that it's almost like there are two of me.

Considering the duality of slutty Piper and baby-crazy Piper, there kind of are.

Slutty Piper is on all fours, licking Zane's cock from base to tip in big, long puppy dog licks. When I'm slutty Piper, I'm tasting Zane's cock in the most performative way I know how. I'm lifting it with my tongue and letting fall, hard and heavy, down on my face every time I finish licking up the tip and go back to the base for more.

Baby-crazy Piper, though. She's gotten super into the dirty talk all of a sudden. When I'm baby-crazy Piper, I'm looking up at Zane and cooing things at him that I didn't even know I wanted to say.

"I love your cock, Zane," I mewl. "I wanna worship it. Let me worship your huge fucking cock, Zane? I love it so much!"

Lick. Lick. And then SLAP! goes the aforementioned cock as it falls back down on my face.

"I can tell you do, baby. You've loved this cock from the get-go."

"And now it's mine," I tell him in between licks. "It belongs to me. You love me, and that makes it’s mine."

"Piper, baby," Zane says with a dark little laugh. "It was always yours."

I don't realize what that dark little laugh was for until he grabs me by the hair, which stops the licking immediately, because now he's forcing me to take his cock in my mouth instead.

And I do. Oh boy, do I ever. I feel like I was born to take Zane's cock. Born to be used by him. Born to swallow it up all the way down my throat, make him come and take every ounce of his baby batter cum. I want to chug it the way a fat kid drinks unbaked cake mix. The fact that he says that he's mine only makes it even better. More urgent.

I suck Zane Tanner off like his cum is my favorite kind of ice cream and I've been on a fifteen-day juice fast. And Zane loves it. He loves it more than he's ever admitted before. But now he loves me too, and he doesn't hold anything back.

"God, Piper!" he cries out. "Your mouth—good god, woman. You suck me so fucking good—your mouth is so damn warm, I'm gonna—"

Zane's hot seed blasts down my throat like he's a sexy fireman on a nude calendar of buff dudes and his cock is a goddamn fire hose. If there's a world record for coming, Zane deserves it. It's forceful. And so goddamn much, all at once. He launches rope after rope of his gorgeous, delicious cum into my mouth, on my tongue and into my stomach.

As for me? I'm slurping up every last drop.

But as much as I like drinking Zane's cum (and as much as he obviously likes getting me drunk on it), that's not the reason Zane came here tonight and we both know it. The failed pregnancy test might have crushed me when I first saw one little pink line on it instead of two, but now I feel even more resolved to make this baby with the man I love.

Maybe that's what was missing before. It sounds cheesy, but with the way I'm staring up at Zane while he grabs the base of his cock, pumping the last little dribble of cum onto my lips, it's almost crazy enough to be true. There's nothing but love in my eyes when it comes to this man.

And he loves me too. Zane Tanner loves me. In the crazy, insane, sex-fueled all-encompassing way I've always fucking dreamed of.

Maybe the love was what was missing. My fertile womb and Zane's baby batter seemed like a perfect recipe. But now it feels like we've got the entire Betty Crocker instant baby mix all together. Just add love.

And what I'd really love right now…

Is having Zane inside me, pumping me full of all the necessary ingredients so we can do this thing.

Start our family.

Make everything right in each other's arms.

He pushes me back on the bed, working himself between my legs. It feels so fucking good to spread my knees for him. I love the feel of his thighs against mine. I love the way he's staring at me, like I'm something holy.

I love the way his eyes trail down my body to my wet, dripping cunt.

And I especially love the way his cock goes from softening to rock fucking hard all over again just at the sight of the hungry pussy he's about to put a baby into.

Zane's chest has all the muscle and thickness of a Greek statue. One of the ones that was so obviously sculpted by a man who really appreciated the physique of other men. But one of the things I never quite got about those statues was the tiny dicks those poor sculptures felt the need to put on them. Supposedly, it was the ancient Greeks' solution to creating tasteful nudes.

But while Zane has all the muscles of a Greek statue, he's hung like a fucking stallion. Having the results of this combination before me now only reassures me that the Greeks missed a great opportunity when they left off the big, hard dicks.

Staring up at Zane right now, I've never seen anything so fucking tasteful in my entire life.

Well. Tasteful might not be the right word, considering the gorgeous way Zane is about to defile my body and make a whore of me.

Tasty, though. That's for certain.

"Come here, Piper," Zane says, rubbing his cock up and down my slit. "Tell me how bad you want this cock."

"Fuck," I swear. "I don't want it, Zane. This is a need kind of scenario. I'll die if you don't fuck me."

"Mmm," Zane moans, settling his cockhead just at the entrance of my cunt. "You'll die, huh?"

"I really will. You've gotta give it to me, baby. Can't you feel how hot I am for you?"

"I can. You're burning up, sweetheart. I think your cunt has a fever."

"Good thing you brought such a big, hard thermometer then," I giggle. "Wanna take my temperature?"

Zane laughs, but at the end of the laugh a dark look crosses over his face.

"I want to make you pregnant, Piper Stewart," he says.

Then his cock presses inside me and his lips capture my mouth.

Zane kisses me hard, but slow. It's how he fucks me, too. Painstakingly slowly. Deliciously forcefully. Like he's trying to remember every fold of my pussy as his cock slides into it. Every curve of my lips as he pins me down against the pillows and plows me like a snowy city street.

He fucks me deliberately. Making sure to take his time with what he's doing. Ensuring that he hits my g-spot and forces me to moan against his mouth. It's like every motion of his body against mine is suddenly all-important to Zane, and while the attention to detail feels incredible, it's also driving me fucking insane.

I need him. More of him. All of him. Fuck this inch-by-inch bullshit. Fuck the way he's holding himself back. For a second, I think it might be because he's trying not to hurt me. But then I see the fucking tortured look in his gorgeous dark eyes and I know the truth.

He wants this as bad as I do. In fact, he's barely holding it together right now. But he wants to push me to a state beyond just being a little bit dumb with orgasm and the baby-crazy happiness of finally being filled up with the cum of the man that I love.

He's fucking me like this because he wants to see me come undone.

He wants to push me over the edge in a bigger way than he ever has before.

And even though it's fucking killing him not to be as rough with me as he wants to be, we both know that we want it.

Whatever we're building towards, it's going to be worth it.

My body is ready.

"You're going to be the mother of my baby, Piper Stewart," Zane says, dropping his lips to my ear. His voice is a harsh rasp. Even in the way he's talking to me, I can tell that he's barely hanging on.

Good. Because I'm about to fucking explode.

"You're going to take my cum."

His cock slams into me and my pussy erupts in pleasure.

"You're going to bear my children."

He withdraws so slowly that I could cry, then thrusts in again, even harder this time. Then, I really do cry out.

"And someday, you're going to be my wife," he adds without hesitation.

God. It's too much. It's entirely too much.

He rocks his hips up, so that my clit grinds against the base of his massive cock, and then it's all over.

I fucking scream.

That’s when Zane lets loose on me.

There are always all of these distinctions we make with sex. It’s okay because I’m really horny or I’m allowed to like this because it’s just for one night. Growing up, it took a while for me to really get a hold on my lust. My desires. My own fucking libido—slut if I had one, prude if I didn’t.

Once upon a time, I thought that’s why I wanted Zane. If I’m a slut, he’s a bigger one, right? There’s nothing that we can’t say to each other to get each other off in the heat of the moment. Nothing so dirty we can’t do it. Our kinks line up perfectly, and I mean, just fucking look at him. The man is too gorgeous to possibly exist. Having sex with him is like fucking a dream.

Only now, this dream has become reality. Just sex has become love—real, actual, punch-me-in-the-goddamn-face love.

And as my orgasm explodes around Zane’s cock and he starts to go fucking wild on my pussy, it all starts coming together.

Having a baby was just the pretext.

This whole time, when it comes to Zane, this is what I’ve really wanted.

Halfway between fucking and making love. That’s where this relationship lives, and that makes me the luckiest damn woman in the entire world.

I can smell him, I realize. He’s not just expensive cologne and designer suits now. He’s sweat and pheromones, a cocktail of Zane’s own special scent that leaves me breathless. Not just because of the way his cock is making me gasp for air like a bimbo halfwit, but because I don’t want to stop breathing him in.

I can feel him. His own breath at my temple, his jawline resting against my cheek while he gives me every inch of his perfect cock. Zane probes me deeper with every thrust. The weight of his body on mine is fucking heaven. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, feeling the slickness of his skin and reveling in it.

There’s something animalistic about Zane now. No longer is he the cocky playboy. The cool-talking billionaire. Now, we communicate through grunts and moans and whimpers and sighs.

Sometimes, I beg:

“Zane! Fuck! It’s too much, I can’t take it, please, please, oh god—”

And Zane only snarls and redoubles his efforts. He can last for as long as he wants to, and he proves it to me with every orgasm he forces into my bones through my cunt. If I wanted to count how many times he makes me come like this, I couldn’t. He’s fucked me so dumb, it’s impossible not to lose track.

Sex in the missionary position for the sake of procreation. Somehow, tonight this has become the most beautiful, most erotic fucking thing in the entire world.

“I’m going to come inside you, Piper,” Zane says. His voice is so low and intense, I know he must be close. “No pulling out. No birth control, no condom. Nothing getting in our way. I promise you that I would get you pregnant, baby, and that happens tonight.”

The tip of his cock is slamming into my cervix. The sensation is so intense, I don’t even know how I’m staying conscious. Or sane.

Fuck, this is crazy enough that maybe neither of us are sane anymore.

All I have to hold onto is Zane’s body as he gives me another orgasm. And another. And another.

All I have to focus on is the overwhelming chaos of sensation and the sound of Zane’s deep, throaty voice.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. You know how fucking hard you made me when you whipped out that little contract? That smug little look on your face…I wanted to fuck that look right off of it.”

He’s succeeding. Brilliantly. I’m probably fucking cross-eyed at this point. My tongue lolling out of my mouth. Mascara streaming down my face. Hair a total mess beneath me as Zane moves his body against mine, teasing himself into a state of release.

“And now I have you here, in my arms, with my cock inside you. I’m so close, Piper. Any second now, you’re going to have exactly what you wanted. All that baby batter, pumped right into your slutty little womb. You’re going to have to take it like a good little whore, honey. It’s what you were made for, and it’s how things are going to be.”

I feel like I was made for this. I feel like this is my sole fucking purpose in life. It’s biology. It’s the most natural thing in the world. Taking Zane’s cock, milking him of all that thick, creamy cum, keeping it hot and pooled in my womb until my egg drops down into it—all of this feels like something so much bigger than myself. Bigger than Zane. The most important fucking thing we’ll ever do in our lives.

The fact that we get to share it with each other only makes it that much better.

“ Tell me you want it, Piper.”

“I do, Zane! I’ve never wanted anything more—”

“You need it.”

“I do! I need your cock! Your hot, salty cum!”

“And you’ll have it. But I need you to do something for me, Piper.”

“Yes! God yes! Anything!”

“You’re going to kiss me while I pour all this baby batter into you,” Zane snarls, biting my lip. “And you’re going to fucking come.”

Oh. Oh fuck. I’ve came so many times already, I can’t fucking imagine coming again, but—

But this is Zane Tanner we’re talking about. There’s no such thing as too many times with him.

His mouth claims mine as his fingers twine around my wrists. He’s holding me down, fucking me so hard into the mattress that I’m sure it’s about to break.

And then something does break. Gorgeously. Deliciously. It feels like someone has taken the rubber band that is the fiber of my being, pulled it back as far as it would go and snapped it deep inside my body. The sensation ripples throughout my entire nervous system, starting at my womb and spreading out all the way to my fingertips. I can feel it in my fucking teeth. In my hair follicles. In my heart.

But mostly, I can feel it in my soaking wet cunt as Zane blasts a huge load of baby batter directly into my oven, hot and deep and just right. The orgasm reverberates as he comes and kisses me. I can feel my pussy twitching and clenching and grasping at him, trying to pull by baby daddy’s cock even deeper inside me, as my legs wrap around him, holding him in.

We stayed like that for what must be hours, petting and kissing and making out. We remained like that until, exhausted, we finally fall asleep in each other’s arms.