I feel like a balloon today. I'm aching everywhere. No one told me I'd feel like a whale at this stage in my pregnancy. I do not like it at all.

Feeling this way hasn't stopped my husband from fucking me six ways to Sunday every night and almost every morning if I'm up for it, which I usually am.

Take this morning, for instance. I was making breakfast when Jett came up behind me, slid my silk robe off my naked body, and kissed my neck so tenderly my pussy flooded.

“I want you inside me.” I groaned while winding my hips against him, feeling his erection and the fact he was naked behind me.

“Do you know how badly I want you?” He groaned in my ear.

“As badly as you always want me? As badly as I want you?”

He didn't answer me. He gently bent me over the kitchen island, spread me open and entered me in one push. Sex feels so different being this pregnant, I don't know how to explain it, but it makes me feel fuller, hotter, hornier, my clit swells so much that it feels like it's going to explode.

I begged Jett to fuck me harder. I wanted it rough. I wanted to feel his fingers digging into my hips, bruising me. He did fuck me harder, but not hard enough. That's why I pushed back against him, harder, faster.

“Fuck, Maria! That's right, baby, fuck me.” I did, I fucked him as he stood there watching my pussy swallow his fat dick.

“Jett,” I sobbed his name as I clawed at the countertop. I needed him to hold me, fuck me. I needed it so bad I screamed.

He laughed, grabbed my hips and fucked me so hard I came screaming his name, and as he fucked me harder, faster, I came again, squirting all over his dick as he came hard inside of me.

He pulled me up and back against him. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around me, his dick still deep inside of me. He always seems to be hard for me. Like, literally. He'll come, keep his dick inside me, harden within seconds, then he'll fuck me all over again.

“I love you like you wouldn't believe.” He told me with a kiss to my head.

I laughed happily. “I love you so much more.”

I giggle to myself at the memory as I switch on the dishwasher. It's been a good day so far. First the hot morning sex, then after my shower, I met with my best friend, that's precisely what Brooke is. We went baby shopping, had lunch, then met up with a couple of the other girls from the MC, Coral, and Tammy. We had a girly chat, and then Brooke dropped me home.

Lorenzo is parked outside with Leon, another of my brother's men. They're out there most of the time if they're not following me. The only time they don't follow me is when I'm with Jett. I don't even mind anymore that they do, and I don't mind that they're out there looking out for me right now.

To be honest, it makes me smile that so many people care about me the way they do. Lorenzo and Leon have known me since I was a little girl, friend's of my brothers before he was the Don. Just like Tony. That's how I know I'm safe with them, even if Lorenzo does get on my nerves sometimes.

Don't get me wrong; there is nothing my brother's men wouldn't do to protect me, they would lay their lives on the line for me, just as they would for my brother, but there is only a handful I would trust my life with completely, and two of them are outside.

A knock on the door has me shuddering. Ever since Draven demanded I keep away from my father, I've been jumpy. Even the slightest sound when I'm alone makes me jump. I still don't understand why Draven is so adamant that I have nothing to do with my father, but my dreams tell me so much. I have them so often now that they're scaring me half to death.

I'm scared that what I see in those dreams is, in fact, the truth, that they are playing out a memory of what really happened to my mother. That frightens me so much, and yes, I am terrified of my father because of it.

I want to tell myself that it's just a dream, that there's no way my father would have killed my mother like that. However, it's hard to believe.

If my father really did kill my mother, then why the hell is he still alive?

Shouldn't he be dead?

Wouldn't my uncle have killed him for what he did?

However, thinking about it, I don't believe he would have been killed for murdering his wife. My father was a made man, but it makes sense as to why he was stripped of his title and outcast like a nobody.

That doesn't explain why Draven let him live. Unless my uncle made it final that my brother wasn't to touch Joseph, but again, why didn't he get rid of him when he became head of the family?

Ugh. I'll drive myself crazy if I keep thinking about this.

I open the front door, thinking it could only be one of the guys needing something, or checking on me. No one else would get past them. Well, no one that would mean me any ill-will.

Or so I thought.

The second my eyes land on the man on the opposite side of the door, I try to slam it. He pushes it open with force, sending me stumbling back. “Don't be a silly girl, Maria.” He says as he kicks the door closed with his foot.

“How did you find me? How did you get past Lorenzo?”

“I have my ways, and the idiots outside didn't even see it coming.” He laughs.

I swallow hard, walking backward slowly. Trying with all my mite to think of a way out of here without him catching me, but what are the odds of that in my condition?

Not likely I'd wager.

“Did you kill them?”

He's coming closer. I feel my stomach turning, my baby girl kicking me. She can feel my fear. My back hits the wall, and I let out an involuntary small scream.

“Yes, they're dead,” He tells me. “And screaming won't help you right now, baby girl.”

“Daddy, please don't hurt me.” I'm not sure that he won't hurt me. He killed my mother, after all. I know it's not just a dream. I don't know how I know, I just do.

He did something to her, something terrible. Something that made the coroner believe she died of a heart attack.

“That all depends on you. Doesn't it?”

I swallow hard.

“Are you going to give me trouble? Or are you gonna come with me like the good girl you are?” I shake my head. There is no way I'm going anywhere with him!

“No?” He tuts while scratching his jaw with his thumbnail and shaking his head. “That is most unfortunate. I didn't want to have to do this.”

“Do what?” He takes something from his pocket. My eyes widen. Oh god! “No, Daddy, please!”

He presses the rag over my face and tells me, “Don't fight it, principessa.”

I wish I could fight. I really wish I could. I'm grabbing at his hand, trying to pull it from my face, but my eyes are rolling. My legs are getting weaker. I can't feel my body. I can't...