“And now to complete the tour, here’s the stable,” I say into the camera phone, on Skype with my dad. I’m careful to keep the camera trained on my face rather than putting it somewhere stationary. Halfway through the second trimester, I’m clearly showing. I don’t think Dad’s quite ready for that bombshell yet.

Dad looks skeptical on the other end. This is only the second call we’ve done like this and no matter how many times I assure him that I’m well, healthy and happy, I know he’s worried that Xavier’s right off camera, like, pointing a gun at me to get me to say these things. I think only time will convince him I actually mean what I’m saying.

The stable is much darker than the bright summer day outside but the camera adjusts and I take Dad around the stable. I introduce him to the horses and stop in front of Hot Lips’s stall.

“Now I’m going to groom Hot Lips. She’s pregnant and about to pop. We keep her in here where it’s cool and she’s got plenty of access to food and water.”

“Enough about the horses,” Dad says shortly. He leans forward into the screen and whispers, “Is he around?”

I rub a hand down Hot Lips’s mane and sigh.

“No, Daddy, he’s not, but it wouldn’t make a difference even if he was. I told you, I’m not a captive here. It’s not like that. I’m perfectly safe. I can come and go as I please.” I’m not exactly sure if that’s true, but I think it is. It brings up a good point, though. I should ask Xavier for the car so I can go and visit Tom’s wife. I think we’ve reached that stage of trust and if we haven’t, well, that’s a big problem I’d rather face now rather than later.

“Dad, I’m happy. Really happy.” I grin, thinking of the string of wonderful days Xavier and I have been sharing lately.

By the middle of the second trimester, the nausea is much better, thank God. Dealing with the urge to throw up was bad enough, but Xavier’s constant paranoia about me not gaining enough weight and obsessing about every morsel of food that did or did not go into my mouth? Yeah, that might have driven me right to the very edge of insanity.

And it’s hard to have much of a libido when you feel like hurling every other second.

But the blessed second trimester!

Something no one ever told me about pregnancy? Well, it’s not like I ever had any pregnant friends or anything, working my way up the corporate ladder in a mostly man’s world—but anyway.

It makes you horny as hell. I’m not even kidding. It hits somewhere around the second month of the second trimester. The morning/all day sickness is finally mostly gone and then boom. All I can think about all the time is getting Xavier naked.

“Oh my God,” Dad whispers. “You’re in love with him.”

I jerk my attention back to the small screen in my palm. He looks stunned and worried but I don’t look away. I just meet his gaze and nod. “I am, Dad, and he’s worth it. I wish you could meet him. He’s a good, honorable man.”

Dad swallows and rakes a hand through his hair that’s graying just at the edges. He’s gotten very tan over the past months and he looks more fit as well. Earlier he told me he does a lot of swimming and his diet consists of fish, much of which he catches himself, and lots of fresh vegetables. “I don’t know what to think, baby. I mean, there’s this man. And… horses?”

I feel my expression soften and I laugh. “I know. None of this is what I could have ever expected for myself either. But I’m happy. Please be happy for me, too, Dad.”

He hesitates, eyes still wary, but finally he nods.

My phone beeps and I see the battery sign flashing in the corner. “I’m about to run out of battery, Dad. Love you and talk to you soon.”

“You better,” he warns. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you, too.” I blow him a kiss and then hang up, slipping the phone back in my pocket.

God, I love that Dad and I are back in contact again and I know he’s not as worried about me anymore. Just another of the compromises Xavier’s been willing to make lately in order to see to my happiness.

I give a good, long stretch, loosening my lower back muscles, then get to grooming Hot Lips. It’s early evening and I like to give her a lot of attention these days. I feel bonded with her since she’s so big with her foal. I can only imagine how hot and uncomfortable she’s got to be, just a few weeks away from giving birth. She’s comfortable with me and I like to take her out to the side paddock to walk her in circles so she can get some low-impact exercise each day. Well, so both of us can. One of my compromises? I do very little strenuous work around here now.

“That feels good, doesn’t it, girl?” I ask after finishing with the curry comb. I’m about to reach for her hard brush when I see Xavier walk into the stable.

My mouth immediately goes dry. At the same time, my sex starts pulsing so hard between my legs I have to twist them together.

I mentioned the horny as hell thing, right?

He’s sweaty and he pulls his button up work-shirt off, revealing a sweat-drenched tank top underneath.

I remember the day he teased my clitoris with a soft grooming brush and all but moan where I stand.

We’ve had sex since the doctor told us it was safe. But with my wicked morning sickness that seemed to last forever, the occasions have still been too few and far between for my liking.

That’s it.

No more.

He’s sweaty, I’m wet, and like the horses, this is a lady who’s ready to be ridden hard.

I swing Hot Lips’s stall door closed, hang up her brush, and then stalk toward Xavier, unbuttoning my own shirt and flinging it to the ground in a move that’s probably over the top. By the widening of his eyes, though, I’d say I’m getting my point across.

I’m wearing a camisole underneath and I don’t hesitate in whipping it over my head as well. In almost the same motion, I unsnap my bra and then I’m standing before him in nothing but my Wranglers and boots.

My nipples quickly pebble to hard points under his gaze.

It’s when his gaze drops lower to my rounded stomach that his eyes really flare, though.

That’s a development as of a couple weeks ago. I was embarrassed at first but then kind of struck with awe. The peanut’s big enough that he’s starting to make my belly stick out. Okay, according to the baby site Xavier and I now check religiously each week, at five months, he or she is now the size of an eggplant. His or her brain function and hearing are developing this week, so the kiddo can start recognizing the sound of our voices.

Cue Xavier talking and singing non-stop to my stomach.

Which, yes, is freaking adorable. He has a really good singing voice, too. The things I’m learning about this man.

On my first day here, could I have ever imagined the scary hulk on his knees cradling my stomach to his lips and crooning Hozier and Decemberist lyrics to my belly? Uh… no.

Except right now, I’m hoping he’s not thinking about our sweet little eggplant.

When his hand reaches out, it’s not my stomach he touches.

But he doesn’t go for my breasts either.

No, he grabs my hips. Just long enough to twirl me toward the wall.

“Over,” his rough voice demands, pushing my back down.

I bend over and grab onto the edge of the sink basin for balance.

Xavier rips my jeans down my legs.

“Are you wet?” he growls out.

“Yes,” I rasp.

There’s no foreplay or preamble.

His cock shoves right in.

“Oh God, yes!” I scream, pounding a hand on the sink. I don’t care if I scare the horses. This is what I’ve been needing. He’s been so goddamned careful with me the times we have had sex and goddamn it, I’ve just needed him to—

“Fuck me,” I yell at him. “I just need you to ram me so fucking hard. If you hold back, I swear I’ll—”

“Like this?” he roars back, pumping his hips furiously. His cock feels so goddamned amazing every time he bottoms out, his balls slapping my ass. The sound is so profane and fucking hot and just, God.

“A pet should let her Master know when she needs taking care of.” He reaches around and palms my breast, first squeezing the whole thing in his hand, then plucking the nipple with his fingers as he continues his merciless drive in and out of my pussy. “You’ve been a bad girl, not communicating your needs.”

He squeezes my nipple so hard I cry out at the exquisite torture of it and then he smacks my ass.

“Oh fuck, yes, I’m a bad, bad fucking girl,” I pant, grabbing on to the sink and meeting him thrust for thrust, writhing and grinding my ass against his pelvis. His hands go to my hips and I hear him swear. He clutches me with what feels like a white-knuckled grip as he drives in even harder still.

Finally he’s hitting that perfect spot so deep inside me.

“Oh God, yes. There. Right there!” I’ve never been so vocal during sex but, God, I need it, never needed it so much, so hard, just—

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh—” I screech and he rams and rams me again in the perfect spot and stars burst.

I squeeze the fuck out of his dick as the climax hits me so goddamn hard. Oh God, it’s so sweet. So hard. So goooooooood.

But still, not enough.

I want more.

I want it all.

“More,” I gasp when I can breathe again. “Give it to me again.”

“Greedy,” he says, one hand clutching my hip even tighter while the other plucks at my peaked nipple. Then his glorious cock is slipping out of me. I whine in frustration but he’s chuckling and drawing me with him to the stable floor where he’s thrown down a saddle blanket. He lays both of us down and drags off my boots and jeans so I’m entirely naked in the center of the stable. I couldn’t care less. I can’t take my eyes off his thick, pulsing cock.

Then finally, finally, he pulls me down on top of him so I’m straddling him.

Again, with no preamble, he grabs himself and within seconds, he’s directing his monster cock back inside me.

I groan and my eyelids flutter at how right it feels having him there.

“I know you’ve missed riding. So let me give you what you’ve been missing, Precious.”

He lays back, propping his hands behind his head as he looks at me straddling him, that mischievous grin on his face. “Here’s your chance. But you better grip my cock as tight as you can. It takes a lot to satisfy me. You’ve gotta grip me hard with that luscious cunt if you want to get the job done.”

My inner muscles respond to his crude words. I’ll show him. I’ll give him the fucking ride of his life.

This is a new position for us but it works well with my expanding stomach. I shift my hips experimentally and Xavier’s entire body flexes in response.

I grin, wondering exactly how much self-discipline it’s taking for him to keep his hands behind his head instead of grabbing me, flipping me over, and controlling the situation like I know he loves to.

But hell no, I’m not giving up this power.

I shift my hips again, a rolling motion, grinding down and against his pelvis. My eyes pop open because, holy God, that hits the spot.

Xavier’s grin settles into a smirk as he watches me. I narrow my eyes at him. Oh, I’m going to drive him just as insane as he always makes me, just you wait.

“Good Masters deserve rewards, too,” I say, intentionally making my voice somewhat breathless. I start rolling my hips, drawing up and then down on his cock, each time grinding my clit against the base of him.

I don’t have to fake my breathy moans as I draw my hands down my neck. I grasp my breasts and arch my back.

“Oh God,” I gasp. “I can feel your cock so… deep. Fucking me. It’s so good.” Yeah. Not an act. Goddamn him, but he really drives me this insane. And actually letting it out—just saying out loud all the things that are always going through my head? It feels so dirty and ramps everything I’m feeling up even higher. Especially when I see Xavier’s responses. The way his jaw is getting so tight and how his nostrils flare every time I pinch my nipples.

I cinch them between my thumb and forefinger until they’re hard little points, my high-pitched pants ramping up higher and higher as my pleasure heightens. Xavier swallows hard as his blue eyes darken. “Fuck. You make it so fucking good. Every… oh God, every time.” I close my eyes and throw my head back, clawing at my own breasts.

Then I drop a finger down and run it through my own juices at my clitoris and my lips where Xavier’s giant cock rises to meet my every downward hip roll.

I tilt my head back to stare at him right as I suck the forefinger soaked in my juices into my mouth.

Apparently that’s all it takes to break through his iron-willed control because with an animal growl, he finally gives up on the whole observation-only approach. His hands move from behind his head to seize my hips.

Then he takes control of everything. He holds my hips in place as he pumps into me from below, thrusts that are so intense and deep they take my breath away. His sweat-drenched abs flex with every lunge.

“That’s right. Take what I give you. Take it and fucking love it.” His eyes move between an intense focus on his cock dominating my pussy and locking with my gaze as he drives me closer and closer to the peak.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” I cry as he drags me back and forth over the base of his cock with each up-thrust. My hands fall to his rock-hard chest. We’re both wet from sweat and my pussy squelches on his cock I’m so fucking wet for him.

When he does an ab curl and his lips begin devouring mine, I’m done for.

I cry my climax into his mouth. It’s so strong and high and long I clutch him, feeling the entire foundation of my world rocked. “I love you,” I gasp right on the tail end of the comet.

“Fuck. Precious,” he whispers with a hoarse gasp and then follows me right over the cliff, pushing so deep and stilling there.

We lie there gasping in each other’s arms. I’m hot and sweaty and the air is scented with sex and a moment has never been more perfect.

At least until I feel the baby start to move.

“Xavier!” I gasp. I grab his hand and put it on my belly. “Do you feel it?” I ask excitedly.

Feeling the baby move has been one of the freakiest and most amazing things of my life. But every time I try to share the experience with Xavier, the kiddo gets all zen and goes back to sleep. Without fail, whenever I grab Xavier’s hand so he can feel, movement goes from super active to nada.

When I look up into Xavier’s face, I can see the same hopeful expectation. Followed moments later when nothing happens by resignation.

“Not today,” he says with a small disappointed smile, moving to withdraw his hand.

Which is when the kiddo starts doing freaking acrobatics.

“Shit. Holy shit!” Xavier says, moving so he can press both hands to my stomach even though it means upending me off his chest.

I laugh though because I can see the wonder on his face as he finally feels the miracle that’s been amazing me for several weeks.

His eyes shoot up to meet mine, a childlike sort of astonishment written all over his face, before he goes back to intensely staring at his hands on my belly like he can see through it to his son or daughter beyond.

And I don’t know if the kid got woken up by all the activity of moments before or if it was the salsa I had with my eggs this morning, but he or she is doing friggin’ somersaults in there.

Xavier keeps his hands on my stomach for a good ten minutes, his face a picture of devoted concentration and awe.

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” I say when Jr. finally settles back down and stops moving.

Xavier looks at me. For a second I can’t make out the expression on his face. His eyebrows are drawn together, his mouth open like he’s at a loss. Finally, he whispers, “I don’t know how to be this happy.” He shakes his head. “A man like me doesn’t deserve it.”

I scrunch my face. “What are you talking about? Of course you deserve—”

But Xavier’s suddenly in motion. He’s up, grabbing my underwear and jeans. Naturally he doesn’t hand them to me like a normal person would. He starts to dress me.

I throw a hand over my face. “I don’t want to move.”

He chuckles. “Somehow I bet you’ll think different when the mosquitos start coming out. It’s almost sundown and you know they’ll be out in droves.”

I groan but when he holds down a hand to help me up, I grudgingly let him pull me to my feet. I step back into my boots even though my legs feel like total jelly. I stumble a little while pulling my shirt back on over my head. He holds me steady at the last second.

“Whoa there.” He can’t keep the smirk off his face. “Have a bit of a rough ride, did ya?”

My eyes are at half-mast. I know it’s the guys who are supposed to get sleepy after sex, but I’m always taking naps these days. According to the websites, I’m supposed to get a second wind of energy somewhere here in the second trimester but that has yet to hit. I’m still Ms. Nappy McNappy Pants.

His eyes soften and he reaches forward to push a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Let’s get you to the house for a before-dinner nap, how about that?”

I use my last ounces of strength to lift up on tiptoe and kiss his lips. “You really can be a sweetheart.” Then I pull back. “When you’re not being a pain in my ass.”

I get a swat on my backside for that one.

I laugh and jump ahead a few steps. He naturally chases me. I’m still giggling when I get out of the stables and freeze at seeing a serious-looking man in a business suit frowning at us.

I back up a few steps and run into Xavier, who’s arm immediately snakes around my stomach protectively.

Standing as close as we are, I feel the sudden tension that makes Xavier’s muscles go rigid. I look up and his face is hard, his jaw stiff.

“Father,” he bites out. “What are you doing here?