“Sweetheart,” he hisses once before stilling me. I look up at the mirror again, and his face strains behind me. A vein stands out in his neck. His fingers dig into the fleshy part just above my hips. His eyes are closed, but the lids pop open, and he catches me watching him. With a slow smile on his lips, he leans forward, sucking at my shoulder while his sight remains on mine through the mirror. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
The compliment is a heavy one, said with honesty and confusion, as if he’s startled at the truth of what he’s said. I blush. Not from the position we’re in but from his sincerity.
“You’re so sweet, Bull Eaton.”
“And you’re delicious,” he mutters, dragging his teeth over my shoulder once more before pressing a kiss to the raked skin. “And now I really need a shower.”
He chuckles, forcing himself to jiggle inside me, and we both feel the rumble from our joined attachment. I lean forward a bit more to release him, and Bull laughs.
“You are one dirty momma,” he teases.
“I will not be calling you dirty daddy,” I say, shivering with the thought. Bull helps me to shift off him, and we both scoot to the end of the bed.
“Just as long as I’m still Sprout’s daddy, you can call me anything you want.” He brushes back my wild hair, partially air-dried from our romp, and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
As Bull exits the room, I reach for the towel dropped to the floor and wonder if I can ever call him mine.
13
Inside Her or Insider
Bull
More than two months have passed with Scarlett in my bed every night. Her body is beside mine, and I outline her changing shape as she lies on her side. The “baby bump,” as she calls it, is present, but a simple glance at her and you still can’t tell she’s pregnant. She’s taken to wearing some of my T-shirts as dresses or summer smocks, also her word, as she continues to work at the Busy Bean. Our hours remain early, with me milking cows starting at four in the morning and her shoving off to work by five thirty. I’d love for her to quit the coffee shop and work around the farm more as we can always use the extra hands. She doesn’t need to work for money. I have plenty to take care of her, but she continues to like the job even if she isn’t trained in baking pastries or making coffee.
“It’s early,” she mutters in front of me as her back presses against my chest. My hand continues to skim over her hip and toward her belly again, just feeling the heat of her skin. Summer’s warming up, and the open windows let in cool relief in the dawn hours.
Scarlett gave me a leather wrist cuff with a single silver washer on it with Sprout engraved in the metal. It’s a father-to-be gift. I don’t wear it while I work, worried it will get caught on something and snap, but I slip it in my pocket every day and return it to my wrist as I return home. It tickles against her skin, and I lean forward to suck at her neck.
“Bull, babe, whatcha doing?” Her sleepy voice hints having sex might be the last thing on her mind, but I can’t seem to get enough of her. I’m like a sex-crazed teen around her, and I’ve been questioning if her pregnancy hormones are somehow contagious. I wouldn’t say I have a pregnant woman fetish, but something about Scarlett and her changing body turns me on.
“Thinking of you,” I whisper to her sleep-moist skin. “But it’s early. Go back to sleep for a bit.” I’m ready to get out of bed when her hand catches mine over her belly, and she moves it upward under her T-shirt to cover the heavy swell of one breast. Scarlett already had nice tits, but their growth is just as mouthwatering as everything else. Filling my mitt, I massage the one. At times, she’s told me they are extra sensitive, almost aching, so I’m gentle at first, cupping the weight, smoothing over her hardening nipple. With her fingers over mine, she forces me to pinch her.
“What are you doing?” I tease as she purrs while I stroke and tug at the ripe tip. Shifting her to her back, I lift the T-shirt and latch onto her, sucking as much as I can. She overflows my mouth, but I leave no inch untouched, licking at her, slurping at the globe, wondering what she’ll taste like when the baby comes.
“Is it wrong that I want a taste once you lactate?”
“Are you comparing me to a cow again?” she mutters, a quiet chuckle mixing with her irritation.
“It’s just such a marvel to me, and as milking is my business, I want to experience it.”
“I’ve heard about this kind of thing,” she says, stroking over my hair while her eyes remain closed, and I continue to swirl my fingertip around her nipple.
“You’re going to be beautiful while you nurse.” Scarlett’s eyes slowly open. “I can’t imagine I’ll ever see anything more beautiful than a mother feeding her babe.”
“That’s a cow reference again, isn’t it?” she hisses, turning her head to the side, but I capture her chin and bring her face back to me.
“It’s a compliment. You understand what an incredible gift you have. You can grow a life inside you. You can feed that baby from your own body. It’s an amazing wonder.”
“Some women find it a curse.”
“Really? I get the whole period thing feeling like a punishment, but do you hate being pregnant?” Scarlett’s quiet as her hand lowers over her exposed belly.
“Actually, I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.” Her fingers spread, continuing to marvel at her own ability.
“That’s my baby in there,” I say, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her belly.
“Bull,” she whispers. She’s cautious, concerned I’ll change my mind if we find out it’s not biologically mine. She’s worried my hopes are too high, but she doesn’t understand that my heart has fallen in deep. I’m in love with her and the baby. A few weeks back, when her ex showed up, she worried I was all in for only Sprout, but it’s not just the baby. I want all of her.
My fingers circle the bump of her abs before lowering to stroke over the coarse hair near the apex of her legs. Her thighs spread automatically, anticipating where I’m headed, and I don’t want to disappoint her. I never want to give her a reason to second-guess her decision to stay with me. My hand slips forward, curling over her before two fingers thrust inside.
“Babe.” Her back arches as her head tips back. She’s so wet and ready for me, but I’m taking my time. In the quiet of dawn, I just want to tease her and drag this out a bit, take her sweet and slow. Scarlett and I are pretty hot when we come together, and we’ve experienced things in a lot of unique spots in my home. Over the back of the couch. Against the wood stove chimney in the kitchen. Even on the staircase once. Of course, with her changing shape, we’ll continue to be creative, so I want this moment.
As I slide in and out of her wet heat, she’s dripping, and I’m so stiff. I’d blame it on the morning, but it’s all Scarlett. She does this to me.
“Sweetheart, I want to feel you around me.” Sensing what I mean, Scarlett rolls toward me, ready to climb over me, but I press her back. “I’ll be careful,” I tell her, knowing we both worry about squishing the baby. Scarlett researched it when I was concerned I’d hurt her, and she told me I wasn’t coming anywhere near the baby. Folding up to my knees, I position Scarlett’s lower body, slipping a pillow under her backside to tip her upward. Holding myself in place, I drag my dick, which is hard enough to hammer nails, through her slit and coat the tip. I love that being pregnant means we can go without anything between us, and briefly, I wonder if Scarlett will consider a second baby even though she hasn’t had the first.