In the end, there always ought to be cake.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” I giggle, tiptoeing forward on my heels.

Oh, yeah. Four and a half months preggo, and I’m still wearing my stilettos. What did you think, I was gonna let Zane Tanner knock me up and then start wearing potato sacks and bedazzled Crocs all of a sudden? Bitch, please.

Zane has me blindfolded, which, generally speaking, I’ve proven to enjoy over the last few months. But that’s in the bedroom. Not out on the town.

The fucker slipped this over my eyes the second he got me settled in the backseat of his limo.

And if there’s the faint smell of pussy on Zane’s lips when he leans in to kiss me…well. You know that we never could resist a little licking in the limousine, after all.

“Just a little longer now, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

He opens a door, and I step into a room that makes my heart soar and my stomach growl.

Look. When you’re pregnant, apparently, you get, I don’t know. Super powers.

And not just having to pee constantly, which would pretty much be the worst power ever, in my humble opinion. Urine girl. Just doesn’t have the right ring to it, you know?

But along with the overactive bladder, I’ve got a wicked good sense of smell to boot. I’m also pretty sure I have mommy rage strength—but I’m getting off track here.

Because when Zane opens that door, the smell that hits my nose is fucking orgasmic.

“Cake,” I breathe in disbelief. I’m already salivating. “You beautiful bastard, you bought me cake.”

“Ugh,” Zane chuckles in mock disgust as he lifts the blindfold from my eyes. “Your damn mommy powers, Piper. Can’t surprise you for anything anymore.”

We’re in Zane’s penthouse, I realize. Which, usually, is gorgeous enough on its own. But from the kitchen island all the way to the living room coffee table, all across every open surface of the open floor plan right down to a few gorgeous pieces on top of his self-serve bar…

Cake.

Gorgeous, beautiful cake.

In every shape, size, and color. And (I hope) in every flavor too.

Big cakes. Small cakes.

Cakes with fucking chocolate rivers running down their sides.

It’s like Piper heaven. No, really. If this wasn’t totally in character for Zane to do, now that I’m pregnant with his child, I would have been suspicious that I’d died with a good enough soul to get to spend eternity surrounded by baked goods.

But no. It’s real. It’s totally fucking real.

As my stomach growls with mommy hunger, I turn to Zane with the biggest, dumbest smile on my face that I’ve got.

And with something else, too.

That hunger in my eyes?

It’s not just for red velvet and buttercream.

“Like it?” Zane asks, holding his arms out hopefully.

“Get your fucking clothes off, and gimme that cock!” I squeal, launching myself into his arms.

Zane is gentle in the way he holds me now. So careful that it’s kind of fucking sweet. He’s sure that he doesn’t squish my belly before he ever takes me into his arms. But once our little bundle of joy is guaranteed safe, he squeezes me like he never wants to let go.

And I never want him to. Except, of course, to get his fucking clothes off. Because I was serious about that. Why wouldn’t I be?

You don’t let a man buy you an entire penthouse full of cake without sucking his cock so good he goes stupid, after all.

And I intend to do exactly that.

“Piper, slow down,” Zane laughs, kissing my forehead while my fingers fumble with his belt. “Don’t you want to, you know. Try the cake?”

“Uh-uh,” I say, shaking my horny little head no. “Wanna blow you. Pants. Off. Now!”

“You’re still such a fucking slut, Piper,” Zane sighs. He takes his belt buckle from me and undoes it with ease. “What about why there’s so much cake. Do you want to know that?”

“Because you love me,” I say matter-of-factly, tugging at the button of his slacks. “And I love cake. Duh. Idiot.” I look up at him helplessly, fluttering my eyelashes. “Unbutton.”

Rolling his eyes, Zane pops the button of his pants open too. And he pulls down the zipper to boot. He’s sweet like that.

“Mmm. Mine!” I say, dropping to my knees and burying my face against his boxers.

His pants slump to the floor around me as I rain kisses down on his huge, thick cock. Zane can pretend all he wants that I’m being silly right now, but he’s already hard for me. There’s no fucking pretending in that department.

“They’re wedding cakes, Piper,” Zane says with a little laugh—and then a gasp as I start licking the front of his boxers like a lollypop I can taste through the wrapper.

“Mm. Cool,” I say, my lips against his cock through the boxers. “Love weddings, sounds fun. Babe,” I breathe, looking up at him. “Get it out for me?”

Sighing, Zane whips his cock out. All twelve fucking inches of it. All huge, thick, hard and hung.

And all mine. Totally fucking mine.

I plunge my mouth down on it like I was born to suck him off, and Zane resigns himself to his fate.

“Damn, woman,” he says, shaking his head. “You really do like cake.”

“Mmm!” I pull my mouth off his cock and smile up at him briefly. “I really do. But what I want right now…”

“Is some icing,” Zane finishes knowingly. “Go on then, baby. Do your worst.”

Zane acts like he’s not totally in love with the way I’m blowing him like a cum-hungry slut right now, but cocks don’t lie. I have that huge fucking weapon throbbing for me in a hot second, pumping pre-cum all over my tongue in preparation for a grand finale that I’m going to lap up like an absolute whore.

What? It’s good for the baby, I swear! Something something Norwegian study, haven’t you heard?

Mommies who swallow have easier births. Sounds like pseudoscience nonsense, maybe, but look. If Norwegian scientists think I ought to be swallowing up all of Zane Tanner’s hot, creamy baby batter, who am I to tell them no?

“Fuck, Piper,” Zane hisses, his hips rocking against my lips in time. “You’re a goddamn slut for cake.”

I just moan and keep sucking. There will be time to talk later. And with Zane, there’s never any end of things to talk about.

Our companies and the merger currently taking place between them.

My belly, our child growing inside of it. All the ups and downs of the pregnancy that we’re navigating together. As a couple. A perfect, sexy team.

Or the way that Zane is totally turned on by my hot little body in tight little dresses still, even as my belly grows bigger with our child every day. In fact, I think I might have awoken some kind of dormant kink in this sexy, sexy man.

He promised me a new dress that first time that he ruined my clothes in his limo, on the first night we ever fucked. Now, it seems like he comes over with a new one every day.

Tight and curve-hugging, like they were made to accentuate my baby bump and plump, swollen tits.

My tits have also been a pretty big topic of conversation lately. They were big to begin with, after all. Now, Lacy Desirables is releasing a line of pregnancy cup sizes just so I can keep myself in sexy lingerie…and so Zane can take me out of it.

“Christ, Piper. Wedding cakes!” Zane tries to remind me. “Aren’t you…aren’t women supposed to be excited about that kind of thing?”

He’s so close to coming, I can almost taste it. Zane might be too proud of his grand gesture to admit it, but he’s about to come down my throat whether I’m appreciating his wedding cakes or not.

I don’t let him distract me. After all, there’s time for cakes later. Right now, I want to show him exactly how much I appreciate dozens and dozens of designer cakes spread out all the way across his penthouse.

I want to show him with my mouth.

“Fucking hell,” Zane snarls, twining his fingers in my hair. “You pregnant little slut…I fucking love you, Piper. I love you like crazy.”

His balls tighten against my lips at the base of his cock, and then it happens. He lets loose on me. Every intense, massive spray of his cum fills up my mouth to the brim. And with every spurt of it, I swallow up more and more of Zane’s baby batter until I’ve had my fill.

“Fuck,” Zane breathes. He lets out a sharp little laugh in disbelief. “Piper. I’m going to marry you. Now that you’re done blowing me…can you fucking react, please?”

“Nervous?” I tease, licking my lips.

I’ve gotten better at swallowing Zane’s cum over the past few months. Now, I don’t spill a fucking drop.

“Nervous?!” he repeats. “Piper, babe, this is only the biggest fucking thing I’ve ever asked a woman in my life!”

“You haven’t asked me anything, honey,” I laugh as he helps me to my feet.

That’s becoming harder and harder with every passing day. Hell, my ankles are actually getting a little swollen from time to time.

But with Zane by my side, I’ll figure something out. If I become such a whale that I can’t get to my knees to blow him anymore, he’ll have to…I don’t know. Lay me down on the bed and fuck my mouth while my head dangles off the end.

We have options, is what I’m saying.

In Zane’s own words, after all, I am a pregnant slut.

And I fucking love it.

“Piper,” Zane says, smoothing my hair away from my face. “Marry me.”

There’s an intensity in his gorgeous chocolate-hazelnut eyes that I just can’t say no to. Even though…

“That’s still not a question, jackass,” I say with a little wink. “But you know what, fuck it.”

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him nice and deep, the taste of his cum still on my tongue. Whatever little anxieties or bits of nervousness Zane had seemed to magically dissolve with a kiss. He never asked me, so I guess I’ll never say yes.

But sometimes, words are stupid.

Sometimes, a kiss is enough.

A kiss quickly turns into Zane stepping out of his suit pants, leaving socks and shoes behind. I’m fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and he’s scrambling to unzip my dress when it happens:

Our over-eager bodies crash backwards into the kitchen island, smashing my ass into the bottom tier of a beautiful chocolate-frosted masterpiece while the top tiers rain down on our heads.

“Aw, fuckdicks,” I say, although, not without a giggle.

The cake beneath my ass is squishy and weird. It’s definitely stained the white lace of my dress a dark-chocolate brown.

But when I dip my finger into the icing for a taste, it’s actually so good that my eyes roll back. Full cakegasm. I dip another in and press it to Zane’s lips so he can have a taste for himself.

“Fuck me,” Zane moans, licking his lips. “That’s incredible.”

He sucks the icing from my finger nice and hard, flicking his tongue against my fingertip to lick every bit he can. It makes my pussy fucking wet. Even wetter than it already is.

Blowing Zane always leaves me soaked, but at the rate we’re going, I’m going to be turning his sexy hardwood floors into a slip and slide with my honey if he doesn’t start licking it up soon.

I whimper as he pops my finger out of his mouth. At that, Zane only laughs.

“Well, one cake down,” he says, brushing crumbled cake and icing out of my hair, then smoothing it out of his own. It leaves his hands slick with mashed up cake mess. I grab one and start licking it off his fingers like the hungry bitch I am.

Look. Pregnancy takes a lot out of you, okay? So I need to put a lot back into me to feel satisfied again. Cake, cock, and cum. Really, it’s fucking sweet that Zane decided to provide all three.

“I could cut you off a slice, if you’d like,” Zane laughs, pulling his hand away so he can kiss me again.

“Cut me off a slice of that man meat instead, daddy,” I giggle, the taste of chocolate lingering between our tongues. “I like it better this way. Wild and messy.”

“And a pain in the ass to clean up once we’re finished,” Zane smiles. His eyes are sparkling with happiness. “Yeah, that’s pretty much us. Come here.”

He lifts me up out of my cake-seat and pulls my zipper down with a single, stern tug. I let it slide off of my body and to the floor.

I’ve got others. Luckily, in our line of work, we can afford to ruin a few clothes here and there.

Tanner Manufacturing can always make more.

As soon as he’s got me out of my dress, Zane turns his head side to side, cracking his neck.

“All I can say is, I hope your body is ready for me, baby.”

I raise an eyebrow and bite my lip. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

I reach behind me and dig my fingers into the cake, throwing a fist full of it right in Zane’s face before I take off. As I run through the apartment, gorgeous designer wedding cakes tremble as my heels click against the hardwood floors. It’s not that I’m trying to destroy thousands of dollars’ worth of cakes or anything.

But on the other hand, Zane’s apartment has always been way too clean, and when we get together, getting dirty is pretty much a prerequisite.

I send one, a white buttercream sprinkled with candied rose petals, toppling behind me as Zane races after me. He catches it handily, putting it gently back in its place before bounding towards me with double effort.

Unfortunately for Zane, he’s not so quick with the next one: a lemony yellow cake with strawberry pink peaks of icing decorating its edges. That one, I’m considerably happy to announce, topples right onto Zane’s sexy chest. When I look back, he’s smearing his hands against his huge, rock-hard pecs, trying to wipe a little of it off.

“Oh,” I say softly, heels clicking to a halt. “Ohhh. Momma likes.”

“I bet she does,” Zane says, looking up at me with a little wink.

Then, he fucking pounces on me. That bastard!

What a clever fucking ruse. Distracting me with lemon poppy seed and strawberry cream cheese icing while I’m trying to play frisky will work every fucking time.

He wraps his arms around me, squeezing my face against his chest, and my tongue sticks out to lap up the cake smeared there.

“Mmmm,” I say as my eyes roll back with pleasure. Lemony goodness mixes with strawberries and creamy cheesecake flavor in my mouth. Zane’s chest, as it turns out, is an excellent plate. “Oh. I like this one. I like it a lot.”

“Is there any flavor you won’t say that about?”

I consider it for a second, then take another lick of Zane’s chest. “You know, I actually don’t think there is.”

“Guess we’ll have to sample them all, then.”

The lemony goodness passes from my lips to Zane’s as he pushes me back into the living room, where we topple a hipster-bohemian looking unfrosted masterpiece covered in fresh fruit.

“Eat,” Zane says, settling between my legs and pushing a strawberry against my lips.

I bite into it, letting the juices explode over my tongue and gush down my chin. It floods my mouth with berry-fresh sweetness, even if I can’t figure out where the hell he managed to get such ripe, perfect strawberries at this time of the year.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you’re eating, Piper,” Zane says, licking some stray slops of cream and blueberries from the hollow of my collarbone.

“You just like it because it means I’m feeding your baby,” I giggle back. His tongue tickles at first, but then it settles into something that’s so much more than a tickle.

“Maybe it’s time to let Daddy have a bite to eat instead,” he growls, kissing down my stomach.

I take a cake-covered hand and grab a fistful of his hair with it, forcing his gaze up to meet mine.

“You’d better not bite,” I warn him, wrinkling my nose in delight. “You know how sensitive my pussy has been lately.”

“Oh, Piper. When will you ever learn?” Snarling, Zane sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of my inner thigh and I gasp with pleasure. “You’ve already been conquered, woman. You don’t get to tell me what I will and won’t do to you.”

“Is that so?” I laugh. “Well, do you take suggestions at least?”

“I might.” Zane kisses up my thigh, nosing against the valley where my leg meets my cunt.

“Eat my pussy like I’m going to devour this cake,” I command, grabbing a mountain of cream and berries and smashing it against my tongue.

Zane doesn’t answer. He just does it.

That’s what I’ve always liked about Zane. He might talk a big talk when he feels like it, but he’s also an expert on the follow-through.

Zane spreads the soft pink lips of my pussy with his fingers and dives in with his mouth.

First, he breathes. The humidity of his breath washes over my cunt, driving me wild. I moan into handful of cake, barely able to contain myself.

I want him. I fucking want him. Screw the cake. Fuck the icing, too, while you’re at it.

I want my man.

The next breath Zane gives me is cool. Like an early spring breeze, when the lakes are still frozen over, and Central Park is frosted over like, well…like a wedding cake.

He smiles up at me while he does it, watching me writhe and buck and thrust my hips for him. Arrogant prick. The impending burden of fatherhood has changed Zane a little, but I know damn well he’ll never stop being so fucking cocky. It’s in his blood.

Which means it will be in our daughter’s blood, too, God help us. Or worse, our son’s.

Luckily, he wears it so attractively, I suppose I’ll put up with it.

Zane’s worth it. All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly…

And whatever we’re calling this cake-tastrophy that is Zane’s apartment right now.

“Tell me you want me,” Zane purrs.

I grab him by the back of the head and shove his mouth hard against my clit.

“I want you,” I say through another mouthful of cake.

Zane sucks my clit into his mouth like a piece of hard candy, rolling it around with his tongue as he captures it gently between his teeth. I’m rolling around in crumbled cake and slick frosting. Writhing in it in delicious agony.

This is decadence. Over the top, excessive and a more expensively destructive romp than I would ever dare with anyone else.

It feels a little sinful, even, taking all of these beautiful cakes and smashing them up like this.

I make a quick mental note to make a sizeable monetary donation to the New York City food back this month, and then I come for Zane. I come against his mouth, gushing cream to go with all the cream we’ve already smeared across the floor.

“Aaah!” I cry out, grabbing fistfuls of cake just so I can have something to hold onto. Orgasms have been different since Zane got me pregnant. Somehow, even more intense than ever. He’s got me hyperventilating, crying out his name, “Zane! Zane! ZANE! OH!”

“Baby?” Zane asks, popping his head up. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

My chest heaves as I stare up at the ceiling of Zane’s living room for a moment, catching my breath. It’s a nice ceiling. High. Pretty lights that Zane can make change color with an app on his phone. Right now, they’re off.

Instead, the room is being flooded by glimmering rays of natural sunlight.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I laugh. “You just made me come, is all.”

“Ah,” Zane says studiously, kissing up from my cunt to the little bundle of joy currently swelling my stomach. “Well in that case, sweetheart, let’s do it again.”

And he does. God, does he ever. There’s no counting orgasms with Zane. No room for numbers or figures or calculations. Just Zane. His mouth.

And however many orgasms he decides to give you.

I’m a lucky woman. I think we’ve all figured that much out by now.

“Baby,” I moan, unhinged and exhausted as yet another orgasm subsides. Zane, to his credit, dives back in for like, fourteenths or some shit, and I have to haul his busy mouth up from between my legs by his hair. “Zane. Sweetheart.”

“Yes, darling?”

I lick my lips and sit up slightly, surveying the room. We’ve made a proper fucking mess of it, yeah. But there’s something strange about it, too...

“Why is all of the cake pink inside?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

Zane smiles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I wondered when you would notice.”

“Uh-huh. Just did.” I stare him down, seeing that mischievous fucking grin on his face, and narrow my eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“If I’m hiding anything, it’s in plain sight, Pipes.”

I flick cake at his face from my fingertips, and he relents.

“Okay, okay. It’s just that I got a call from the Doctor’s office the other day, after the ultrasound. And I know we were going to wait to find out until later on, but the nurse said she was pretty certain, and I just got so damn excited—”

“A girl,” I breathe, stunned. “We’re having a girl.”

“A sweet little daughter,” Zane says, moving up my body to kiss my cake-covered lips. “Just as fiery and feisty as her mommy.”

“And hopefully only half as much of an asshole as her daddy,” I tease. “How long have you been planning this?”

Zane shrugs. “Couple of days. Not a big deal.”

I look around the room again at all the cakes we’ve destroyed. All the cakes we have yet to ruin.

“No fucking way,” I say, shaking my head. “This would have taken weeks to plan.”

“I work fast,” Zane says.

“You usually do.”

“How else would I have landed the unconquerable ice queen Piper Stewart?”

He says it like he’s being serious, but he’s fighting back a smile. I can tell how proud of himself he is, and if I’m being honest, I’m kind of proud of him, too.

He really did conquer me. In his own stupid, arrogant, hyper-macho way.

And I conquered him right back. I think that’s the best part of it all.

“Fuck me,” I tell him, pulling him in for another kiss.

Our bodies slip and slide on the floor as we make out. But you’ve read this far. You know how making out with Zane Tanner usually ends:

Perfectly. With his huge fucking cock as deep in my cunt as it will go, rocking his hips against mine as we move in perfect harmony. The best possible combination of two people in love.

Sure, it was a long shot. But with a cock like Zane’s, long is part of the game.

“Fuck’s sake, Piper,” Zane growls. “Your cunt is so hot for me, you’re gonna burn me alive.”

“Just pump me full of that baby batter, Daddy,” I tease, giggling as I edge towards another orgasm. “It takes a hot oven to make the perfect cake.”

Zane groans, half in hilarious disgust, half because I just did the thing with my hips that he likes.

“You’re intolerable, Piper Stewart,” he says, claiming my lips with his. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

I just dive back into the kiss and enjoy the feeling of us. Me, Zane. The unborn daughter that we’ve made together.

Our little family, rolling around on the floor in buttercream and pink-colored cake.