EPILOGUE
Lindy
“Oh Chris,” I moaned into the pillowcase. “Oh god.”
The big man chuckled behind me. “Are you referring to God or me?” he panted, his voice rough. “Because although I’m flattered, I’m not him … although I could if you wanted me to be,” he panted with a sly smile. Because at that very moment, Chris was driving into me, his hips forceful, his rod so deep into me that I mewled again, muffling my cry.
“Shhh, baby,” he hushed, his hips pistoning like crazy, his cock bouncing off my cervix with every stroke, making me moan even louder. “Don’t wake the baby, don’t make her cry.”
And I choked back my groans as best I could, swallowing my gasps, pressing my face into the pillow so hard that I could barely breathe. Because we’d just put Joanie to sleep, our six month-old daughter was sweet awake, but even sweeter asleep, and Chris and I wanted to make the best of her naptimes, use the brief interludes to explore each other physically, reacquainting ourselves with each other’s bodies, tasting one another, savoring, sampling, and releasing ourselves in our mutual love.
Because Chris and I didn’t waste any time after we talked. There was no dilly-dallying after I showed up at his mansion, after we confessed our love to one another and decided to make a go of it. So yeah, I moved into his mansion immediately and within a month, I was pregnant.
“Mr. Jones!” I gasped, staring at the pregnancy test. “Oh my god!”
The big man pulled my hand to his, the stick limp between my fingers to take a look. And instead of panic or recriminations, a smile slowly crept over his face.
“You’re pregnant, baby girl, is that so hard to believe?” he drawled, pulling me into his lap. “We’ve never used protection and I’ve filled you with cum so many times, there’s no way you couldn’t be pregnant, you’re nineteen and fertile.”
And that was true, we’d never bothered with condoms or birth control, but still, the surprise knocked the air out of me and I couldn’t answer at first.
“But … but we’re not married,” I finally managed. “I just moved in, I just dropped out of school, I just enrolled at the culinary institute to be a chef. This is …” my voice trailed off.
But Chris wouldn’t give up.
“Amazing?” he said with a cocked eyebrow. “Incredible? Another miraculous gift?”
And I smiled at him because we always play on the word “gift” now, it’s how we refer to our first interaction, and he was right. The thought of a baby on the way was the best gift of all, I couldn’t imagine anything better.
“So you want to keep it?” I asked tremulously. “Him or her? You want to be a dad?”
And Mr. Jones growled low in his chest, dropping kisses against my breasts, my nipples, my stomach before laying me on the bed and moving slowly to my pussy. I tensed and sighed beneath him, my slit creamy and wet, tingling uncontrollably as he parted my folds, gazing deeply at me before bending his head for a slick taste.
“Baby,” he murmured as he lapped at my clit, “there’s nothing that I’d want more than to see you swell up with my child. There’s nothing in the world that could be better, this is the second best gift I’ve ever received … the first being you.”
And I shuddered then, moaning his name, my pussy on fire, my hands scrabbling for his big body, begging for his cock.
“Oh Chris,” I moaned as he slid into me, making me feel so full, my cunt spreading wetly as he filled my wet cavern. “Oh god, I love you.”
And as the big man pressed deep inside, making us into one, once again cementing our adoration for one another. He caught my lips for another kiss, pressing into my mouth with his tongue as he pushed into my pussy with his dick, the movements mirroring one another.
“Yes, baby, yes,” he ground out into my mouth. “You’re mine.”
And I melted again, all over him, creaming wetly, giving myself up. Because this is my life now, I live with the alpha male, we’re good together, better than good, amazing, great. And we’ve been blessed, finding each other, committing to one another, reveling in our love, our connection so strong, so deep, that it takes my breath away.
So yes, I’ve become Mrs. Christopher Jones, we made it permanent after finding out about the baby. And you know what? Nothing feels better than wearing his ring on my finger, trumpeting to the world that I belong to him, that I’m half of a whole, that I’ve found my one and only.
And as for Mr. Jones? Well, he still likes it when I call him that, so I do it for fun, as part of our love play, our teasing, our mutual adoration for one another. And although we started unconventionally, it’s ended well, and I can only look forward to our life together, exploring, loving, adoring, walking hand in hand as the days pass. Because it’s been almost two years now and the fire hasn’t dimmed, the flame still burns as strong as ever. And I know deep in my heart that it will burn that way forever because I’ve gifted myself to him, and in return, my man, my lover, has done the same for me.
THE END
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Continue on to read Loving the Babysitter: A Forbidden Romance.