Page 22 of Forbidden Fruit (Sweet Treats 7)

“Sweetheart, you’re so gorgeous,” I murmur, caressing her slightly at her vee. Her head drops back and she parts her lips in a throaty moan. “So beautiful,” I reiterate again, while pressing my lips to the fluttering pulse at her neck.

But I want to show my dominance. Slowly, I run my hand down over her poochy stomach, reveling in the soft mound there. Although Kristy doesn’t know it yet, I already suspect. My guess is that she’s carrying my child, and that a baby is growing within her. I’m so proud to show off her fertility in front of my friends, and to show how she can take a man even with a baby inside.

“Honey, I want to be gentle with you,” I whisper in her ear. Her eyes flicker open slightly.

“But why?” she murmurs. “I can take it hard if that’s what you want.”

“No baby,” I whisper again. “We should go slow this time and have you really enjoy it. Not that I don’t like it rough, but I want to caress you and show these men just how much I love you.”

She giggles a little.

“Love, Mr. Merchant? This is a strange time to be saying that word, wouldn’t you say?”

I run my large palm over her rounded belly again, as if caressing the evidence of our love.

“No, it’s not weird,” I whisper again in her ear. “I love you, Kristy Landauer, and I want this to be a public declaration of my emotions for you. You came into my life in an untraditional way, but what I feel for you is absolutely real,” I say, looking into her deep brown eyes. She melts in my arms and smiles tremulously.

“I feel that way about you too, Owen,” she whispers, one small hand caressing my face. “I love you.”

Our lips are sealed, and even the bright lights and audience can’t distract me from this woman. After all, she’s lush, plump, and most of all, pregnant with my child. How can I treat her with anything but the greatest respect and dignity?

Slowly, I reach down to caress her curves. Her head tilts back and her eyes flutter shut as she moans with pleasure. Wetness is already seeping down her thighs, and I taste that honeyed nectar. Then I trail back upwards until I’m at her vee, and gently lick at her nub before tonguing open the entrance that I crave so much.

After all, this woman is my everything. She’s so beautiful, ripe, and curvy, and it’s up to me to show my brothers that she belongs to me. Lovingly, I embrace her, and then lay her down on the dais on her back. She makes to get on her hands and knees, but I gently push her downwards again.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I want them to see this bump,” I groan while running my hand over her tummy again. Kristy’s eyes go round with shock when she realizes what I’m implying.

“Do you think …?” her voice trails off as I part her legs and position myself between those ample thighs. I nudge her, and she lets out another low wail of pleasure.

“Yes, I definitely do. I know so, in fact. You are mine, Kristy. You and this baby belong to me.” With that declaration, I thrust deeply into her pulsing folds and her back arches with delight, a moan of pleasure coming from her throat.

“Do you hear me?” I pant, easing my full length into that tiny box. “You and the baby are mine.”

With that, our love is consummated before this band of brothers. The other truckers watch as I take Kristy over and over again, her swelling stomach rising and falling in the air as proof of our adoration for one another. My friends know what they’re seeing because most of them are fathers themselves. They know when a woman is expecting, and that the tableaux before them is that of an alpha claiming his woman and child.

After all, Kristy never expected this to happen, and neither did I. We met after her prom night went disastrously awry. But you know what? With the benefit of time and distance, everything went the way it should have, and now we will be bound as one for the rest of our lives.

Epilogue

Kristy

A year later.

I stroll down the sidewalk, pushing a baby carriage. The sunlight sparkles off the sidewalk and a gentle breeze makes the leaves rustle. I feel so happy, but it’s not just because of the weather. Instead, my handsome man is by my side, and we’re the picture of familial happiness. After all, I’m lush and curvy, with a peaceful smile on my face. Owen, meanwhile, is bent over the stroller cooing at his daughter.

“Hiya Rose,” he says while waggling two big fingers at her. “Rosey want a posey?”

Rosey gurgles in her carriage and waves her little arms energetically. Owen blows her a kiss, and I laugh as he straightens.

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