Page 59 of Such A Good Guy

So I tell myself I married him because I need to keep Luke out of jail, but really it’s because his obsessions pulls deep in my gut, unfurls something wrong and wicked inside me.

But right now he’s pissing me off.

“Ouch, here’s another one,” I say, doubling over and trying to breathe through my contraction as it tightened my stomach painfully.

“Get your pants down,” Luke ordered.

“Can’t I have one day without you sticking your cock in me?” I asked indignantly.

My husband looked unblinkingly at me.

“No.”

“Well, you’re not getting your cock in me now,” I said irritably. “Now get the fuck away from me.”

I grabbed another roasted jalapeno pepper from the table.

“Youtook out my IUD,youimpregnated me without telling me, soyoucan just sit back and let me get these babies out the way I want.”

“Oh no,” he said, turning toward me, so fast I barely noticed the spin, the way his fucking predator’s instincts made him move faster than normal humans.

“If you won’t go to the hospital, then we will just have to get your contractions going faster. Now come here and pull down your leggings. Please.”

“Please?” I yelped, waddling away from him as fast as I could, being sure to put the big table behind us.

Everything is big in our gorgeous new beachfront home in Vermont, and that includes my huge twin pregnant belly.

“Please means nothing to you!” I shoot at him as I scoot to the other end of the table, trying to put as much space between us as I can. “You do what you like.”

“It’s still gentlemanly,” he counters, watching me with sharp eyes, gaining on me, and a real true grin breaks out over his face, light bright white smile. It touches his eyes all right, emphasizes the bright predator blue.

“You’re no gentleman,” I said, panting a bit.

We had been quite active this pregnancy, first the tour of Canada, then getting married, then buying our house. But I was still huffing and puffing.

“I told you, Luna O’Neill, that you would rest and be a good girl during this pregnancy.”

“Or what?” I asked, squeaking a bit.

“Or I’m going to put you face-first over this table and fuck you.”

“And if I’m a bad girl?” I countered.

He grinned again, his eyes sharpening as he got closer. Now I could almost feel his warm breath on my back.

“The same thing. You’re going face-first over the table so I can fuck your contractions into you.”

“NO!” I said.

But as usual, my no meant nothing when it came to getting fucked or anything he thought kept me safer.

He snatched me up, his breath warm on my neck. My nipples stung pleasurably and I whimpered at the feel of his strong hands on me.

“I can’t wait to do this again,” he whispered, his sharp teeth a little bite on my throat.

Just to remind me who I belonged to.

Whose teeth marks belonged on me.

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