“Because I want everyone else to see it too.”
Her blush was so fierce, he couldn’t help but hold the back of his hand to her blazing cheek.
“Yes, Sir.”
Now, sitting up in the cat bird’s seat of the mezzanine, Keihl couldn’t keep his eyes off of her — and neither could any of the other men she passed as she wended her way up and down the aisles.
He sipped his coffee as he watched her, amazed at the almost communal way some of the women would stop and talk with Kirsten. One even laid a palm on Kirsten’s belly, the two women laughing. Perhaps Kirsten knew that particular woman, but the way his wife had blushed told him otherwise.
The standing orders were the same of course — look at everyone she passed, turn her bottom Keihl’s direction anytime she had to bend over. On this particular trip, she’d only needed to do it once, and when she did, he’d watched, rapt, time seeming to slow to a crawl as he looked upon her, his cock instantly coming to attention.
The little things he noticed made the experience all the sweeter.
The adorable way she waddled now, the size of her belly now something that affected every movement she made, always made him smile. It filled him with the urge to scoop her into his arms, drown her in his fevered kisses, and hold her to him forever.
It was at those times that he lamented not being able to get closer to her, to be one with her. His love and affection for her had grown in ways both subtle and profound, and it seemed as if it just deepened with each passing day, as she’d passed into the third trimester, the time he had left with her, in this sweet, special phase of life, drawing to an end. The truth of that left him both wistful and excited — for while he’d miss this for the rest of his life, the consolation prize was more than adequate.
It was
everything
.
To look for the first time into those pale blue eyes of the person, the life, the being they’d created together.
All the days of bliss, and happiness, and contentment put together wouldn’t come close to equaling the soul-stirring joy of that single moment. That moment that changed everything.
That moment when life really began.
* * *
H
e knew something had happened when she refused to let him see her breasts — something she knew she was never allowed to do.
“You know better, Kirsten,” he said, leaning against the door jamb of their walk-in closet. Kirsten was inside, sorting through clothing, quietly cursing as the mound of clothing that no longer fit her grew taller on the floor at her feet.
“I can’t. There’s… you’ll be grossed out.”
“Nothing about you grosses me out, dear. Come on, let’s see them.”
In truth, every time he saw her swollen breasts, the darkened, prominent nipples, the tracery of bluish veins now quite visible just under the skin, it filled him with an overpowering possessive lust. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to gently squeeze them in his hands, or wrap them around his cock.
Preferably both.
Kirsten sighed, then turned to him, her hands covering each breast. How he longed to replace those hands with his.
“Uh, uh,” Keihl said, a finger twirling in the air. “Hands down. Those are every bit as mine as the rest of you is — and I want to see them. You can put your hands behind your head while you’re at it, bad girl.”
She actually stamped her foot, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at her adorable protest.
“I don’t know why you want to see them so badly. You practically let the whole store see them this morning.”
Keihl stepped inside the walk-in, closing the door behind him, the sounds of their voices attenuated, softened in the enclosed space.
“Oh, I didn’t see enough in the store. Everybody else just got a tease — I got the whole thing.”
And he had too. Embarrassed or not, it had had an effect on his beautiful wife. Earlier that day when they’d arrived back home, the front door hadn’t even closed before she’d turned to him, her fingers clenching in his hair, her wet kisses hard, frantic, her body pressed to his with a fervor that matched the questing of her tongue between his lips, the whimpers from deep within her.
No, as he’d stripped her clothes from her body, her bewitching blush flushing brighter, then lifted her to the mattress, he’d made sure she knew exactly whom she belonged to. He might show her off to the outside world, but there in the confines of their bedroom, she was his.
Only his.
He’d thrust deeply into her, his hands caressing and squeezing her heavy breasts, and he’d made her say it over and over and over.
“Yours.”
And they’d both known the truth of it.
But now, Kirsten had seemed to have snapped out of that lust-induced haze. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just that she was disobeying him.
Keihl crossed his arms over his chest, leveling a look at his wife. “I’m waiting, girl. Tits out. Hands behind your head. You’re not too far along for a nice spanking, if that’s what it’s going to take to get you to follow directions.”
He’d let her play the rope out only so far, then he’d reel her back in before she got too far.
It was something they both craved, both needed.
She looked up at him, firming her chin, her hands still clutching her breasts.
“They’re…
leaking
.”
“Hands up, Kirsten.” He shook his head slowly. “If I have to ask again, your bottom’s gonna regret it.”
He could see her eyes dilate, her nostrils flaring at the threat, the sass and desire warring within her. Fortunately, the desire won out and with a frustrated exhale, she put her hands behind her head.
Her breasts looked even more swollen, the heavy mounds making his hands tingle and his mouth water.
Down boy. She’s worried here. You can devour her later.
Immediately he saw the small sheen of moisture on one nipple.
“Did you leak through your top?”
He’d forbidden her a top for her little forced exhibition of her charms down the aisles of Federico’s. Touching the wetness, he spread it across the dark, slightly puffy areola.
“Not much here, really.”
“I — I don’t think so. It… felt a little tingly, so I rubbed it and I felt it. I think it’s colostrum, but I didn’t think it would leak so easily.”
“Definitely,” he said, wetting a fingertip and bringing it to his tongue. The taste was faintly sweet, and the very idea of it had his cock hardening once more. The myriad ways his Kirsten could turn him on stunned him anew. He loved everything about her, and though it shamed her, the mysteries and allure of her form never ceased to fascinate him, to fan his own desire. She was his in every way, a playground for his desires, for his lusts, the canvas of his possessiveness. She was his wife, his love, and his sexual plaything, and never before had he felt it more strongly than at that moment.
What is going on with you, Keihl?
Was he losing his mind? Or was it simply obsession? It didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that she was here, now, with him — and she loved him.
Everything else paled in comparison.
He bent to her breast, taking the darkened point of her nipple between his lips, drawing hard upon it as his fingertips traced the bumps that dotted the smooth, soft areola. Kirsten groaned, a long note of desire and shame and surrender.
“Keihl, please… God,
yes
.”
She pulled his head close then, her breathing labored, each breath suddenly heavy with desire. More fluid coated his tongue, the sweet taste stronger, a shudder running through her body as he sucked hard upon her nipple, drawing it deeper into his mouth, his hand giving her breast a firm squeeze.
Her belly rubbed against him, his cock aching, screaming for release from the confines of his slacks. Still sucking upon her, he worked at his fly with one hand, desperate for relief.
Kirsten’s warm hand closed around the shaft of his cock, and Keihl grunted his pleasure, releasing the nipple from his lips with a pop, and drawing the other one to his mouth.
“Stroke it, girl,” he rumbled before engulfing the other nipple to a gasp from his wife.
Having her like that, drawing her essence from her, nothing hidden from him, every part of her surrendered, all of it his to enjoy, to revel in, to cherish.
To love.
There was nothing better, no higher state of mind for a man deeply in love with his wife, with the woman who made the whole so much greater than the sum of their two parts, the key that unlocked everything — happiness, joy, lust, the sweetness of life.
She was all of it.
Her fiendishly skilled hands had his lust stoked to the bursting point in mere moments. He kissed and sucked his way up the valley between her warm breasts, the perfumed scent of her filling his senses. His lips tasted the sweat at her throat, just under her jaw, teasing that spot that had her shivering, whispering his name, imploring him to never stop, to take all of it. Then he found her sweet lips once more, and his kissed her long and hard, holding her head with both hands, his thumb stroking the softness of her cheek as his tongue thrust deep. Tasting her yielding, her abandon, he moaned into her mouth, clutching her hair tight, pulling her head back to that he could taste that smooth, vulnerable throat again, feel the hot pulse against his mouth.
Her belly brushed against his cock, and he froze for a moment, waiting for her reaction. Rather than recoil though, she whispered that one word over and over.
“Yes.”
He pulled back just enough to look down as she painted a line of his precome across the expanse of her pale belly, stroking the broad, inflamed head over her skin. His fingers playing with her hard nipples as she did it, a soft pinch making her breath hitch. Then she locked her gaze with him, peering up from under those long lashes, her cheeks flaming scarlet. He saw everything he needed to know in the depths of those dilated eyes, the lust, the desire a bottomless ocean, a promise of everything — or the one thing he’d ever need.
Mine.
“Take it in your mouth, Kirsten.”
He helped her to her knees, his fingers combing through the soft, heavy weight of her glorious hair. As her soft wet lips closed around his cock, her heated breath upon his skin, he threw his head back, grinning.
If there were such a thing as heaven on Earth, Keihl Warren had definitely found it.
Chapter Thirty Seven
T
he wind drove the raindrops against the glass, the patter of it upon the side of the house lulling them, rendering the dark of the night somehow less foreboding, more comforting, the sound as soothing as a lover’s heartbeat.
“I don’t know what it is. I feel like a twelve year old around you lately.”
Keihl pulled her tighter, the even, slow cadence of his breathing one of pure contentment.
“I don’t understand it… but I’ll take it.”
Her voice had the husky timbre she only had in the early morning, as if the deep of night stripped away the refinement of the professional career woman she was, leaving only the elemental female animal that she knew still lurked deep inside, the part of her that more and more seemed to come to the surface the deeper into her pregnancy they went.
Had her baby awoken something else in her, a more animalistic side of her she’d fought so hard to suppress? Kirsten worried about that. Her pregnancy had wrought changes both obvious and subtle, temporary and permanent.
And not all of them were physical.
It was something she hadn’t been able to put her finger on right away; instead, it had been a feeling, a drive as ill-defined as it was primal. But finally it had made its presence clear, as if to announce itself to the world, and more importantly, to her.
Protectiveness.
It wasn’t just protectiveness for the baby either. No, it was a protectiveness for the single entity all three of them had become, the sum greater than the parts. She feared the prospect of that unity, that closeness, slipping away someday. Inside, she vowed to do everything in her power to protect it, to strengthen it, and to cherish it.
Those emotions swirled, evolved, and changed her in ways she didn’t yet understand. No longer was she one who doubted her own strength. Now it was quite the opposite — now she wondered if she even had the
ability
to control, to channel, to harness the power of that new-found strength.
Mama bear, indeed.
She hugged Keihl closer, his deep murmur one of pure pleasure, his hand closing upon her naked hip, just that single touch awakening a subtle pulsing of her sex.
The baby twirled then, and she stroked her belly, frowning even as she enjoyed the endlessly fascinating sensation. She knew Keihl would have felt it against his side, and to his credit, he didn’t cringe, didn’t react in any discernible way.
“He’s not ready to sleep, is he?” Keihl turned toward her, pulling her head to his chest as he kissed her hair. “Boy’s going to be a fighter, methinks.”