Chapter 25

 

 

 

Bellamy

 

I’m hot, horny and so uncomfortable in my skin. Pregnancy sucks ass. I think the only thing I love about it is that I can eat the fuck out of anything and not regret it. A juicy cheeseburger with everything on it with fried jalapeños on the side, a bowl filled to the brim with chocolate mint chip ice cream and hot fudge slathered on the top. Fuck, I’m hangry. This meat ain’t cooking fast enough for me and watching Banshee chopping up lettuce and onions with his forearms bulging with each movement now has my vagina screaming.

 

Fuck this.

 

I slide the pan off the burner and round the counter with purpose. I snatch the knife out of his hand and slam it beside the cutting board. Confusion and interest shine through Banshee’s eyes. Shoving him away from the island, so his back collides with the counter in front of the sink, I hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans tugging them to his ankles. I palm his brief-covered cock that is steadily hardening under my ministration of pressure. Gliding my fingers under the seam of his briefs, I send them to accompany his jeans. I turn shaking my scrub pants and panties to the floor and then kicking out of them. I bend invitingly placing my forearms flat on the island wiggling my ass at Banshee.

 

He accepts my invitation and takes hold of my hips in his calloused grip. “What do you need, Sweets?”

 

“You. Hard. Fast.”

 

“My pleasure.” He grits as he lines his shaft up to my heated core.

 

In one hard stroke, he’s buried deep. The breath I was holding anticipating his entrance leaves me in a squeak as he ramps up his thrust.

 

In.

 

Out.

 

In.

 

Out.

 

Pushing back against him and adding more friction as his balls slap my clit, my motions speed up. “Harder,” I demand. He relents and gives me his cock long, hard and swift. The ache in the depths of my belly becomes stronger. In a matter of moments of push and pull, rotation of his hips, I scream his name through the bliss he has granted my body. A few more grazes of his cock against my walls, Banshee is stilling with a drawn-out groan of my name leaving his throat.

 

Once I’ve recuperated my senses, I pull my pants back on and pat his chest. “Thanks. I was getting hangry and horny. Food was taking too long, but your cock was a hop, skip and a jump away. I couldn’t resist.” I peck his cheek and leave him to recover.

 

“Well fuck, Bells.” He laughs. “I feel used.” He says with his hand over his heart. “You only need me to feed you and fuck you.” He chastises.

 

“Not true, but you do both very well, and I appreciate the hell out of you.”

 

The opening and closing of the front door rushes Banshee in a fit to get his pants pulled up before he shows my family his crown jewels.

 

“We’re here for Turd Tuesday.” My dad bellows from the living room. Yeah, he’s just as much an ass as Granny was about Taco Tuesday because she swore she had diarrhea for days after she ate them.

 

“It’s almost ready,” I answer them as they join us in the kitchen.

 

“Doesn’t smell like tacos in here. Smells like…” I glare at my brother before he can finish his sentence. “Okayyyy.” He claps. “What can I help with?”

 

“You can set the table,” I answer.

 

“On it.” He replies and gets to work on setting out plates and silverware as I stir in the taco seasoning in the meat.

 

“Where’s Travis?” I ask the room.

 

Banshee clears his throat. “He’s doing some work for the Devils.”

 

I stare at him and nod knowing exactly what my brother is up to and trying not to allow the anxiety to creep in. “By himself?” I question.

 

“No.” Is his only answer and at this moment I know that I need to trust the Devils to have my brothers back.

 

We spend the rest of the evening enjoying diarrhea-inducing tacos and talking about baby names. Even if Granny isn’t here in person, her spirit cocoons us with her presence.