I wake up to the sun’s sharp rays through my window, and when I turn to avoid the light, I meet his face.

My eyes fly open, and I sit up straight.

He smiles softly. “You look shocked.”

I look around to see that I am back in my room. “H—how did I get in here?”

He grins. “You don’t remember?”

He tilts his head. I suddenly remember it all. I remember him carrying me into the house and falling asleep in his arms. I remember feeling safe for the first time in so long, and I remember laughing with him. I also remember the shattering pleasure he had given me and how much I had enjoyed him being inside me.

The thought of killing him suddenly makes me feel panicked. I’m losing sight of my goal, and the waters are getting very muddy. I hate that I’m losing my compass like this. It had all seemed so simple a month ago.

“Have I been asleep since we came inside?” I ask. I feel vaguely sick, and I close my eyes for a moment to combat my nausea.

He shakes his head, looking amused. I turn toward him to see that he is naked under the sheets. Involuntarily, my eyes rest on his chest a little too long before I can pull them away.

I just had sex with him. Why am I still thirsting for him? He leans over and kisses my neck, and I almost jump out of the bed. He chuckles and sits up causally.

“Are you always this jumpy?” he asks me.

I cringe. I need to seem confident and under control. I don’t want him to stop trusting me now.

“Sorry,” I tell him, covering my confusion by ducking under the sheets. I notice that his cock is already at half-mast, and I wrap my fingers around it gently. He sucks in a breath, lifting his hips toward my touch.

I wrap my lips around him, and he hardens quickly. I’m still amazed at the size of him, as well as the ability of my body to take him in fully. I work my way up and down his cock, gripping the base with my small hand, desperate to distract him from my confusion when I woke up.

With a growl, he throws the covers off of us and grips my hips. He lifts me above him as if I weigh nothing, and faces me away from him. My hands land on his thighs, and I look over my shoulder at him in confusion.

He grins at me, and lifts me up, angling his cock so that it teases my entrance. I close my eyes and gasp, my body already wet and ready for him. He holds my weight suspended ever so slightly above him and presses into me just a little bit. I cry out and arch my back, wriggling to take him in more fully.

“Say please,” he orders me.

I whimper and writhe a little more.

“Alyssa, say please,” he says more sharply.

“Please,” I manage to gasp out, desperate for him to fill me to the brim.

“Thank you,” he says, the words like praise as he lowers me ever so slowly onto him. The size of him stretches me in new ways at this angle, and I let out a long moan at the sensation of him within me.

“Now you decide what we do,” he tells me.

I look over my shoulder again, not sure what he means. I’m used to him taking control and just allowing him to ravish me.

He slaps my ass with one hand, and I gasp a little at the spike of pleasure that curls through my body. “Fuck me however you want, Alyssa,” he says, his dark eyes locked with mine. “Use me.”

I suddenly understand what he means, and I grin. I lift myself slowly off his body, supporting myself on his thighs. I see him close his eyes in pleasure, and I feel a spike of joy leap to life within me. Being in charge is delightful, and being on top lets me choose our cadence and the angle of his cock inside of me.

I start to slide up and down faster, loving the new sensations that this position allows me to experience, loving him lying beneath me to use as I please.

“Oh, God, Antonio!” I gasp out as my body softens around him, taking him in all the way to the root. I feel like he’s tearing me apart, and yet it’s the most incredible sensation.

I feel his hands come up to grip my backside, tilting me forward slightly. Suddenly there is pressure at my pucker, and I feel him slip a thumb inside of me as I ride him. The stretching is so incredibly enjoyable that I immediately fly apart beneath his hands, screaming his name as I orgasm. As I come, I again squirt, spilling warm fluid across his hips and onto the bed beneath us.

This seems to trigger his own release, and he shouts loudly as he comes, his hips shaking beneath me as I crumple forward bonelessly over his legs.

“Oh my God, Alyssa,” he says gruffly to me. “You didn’t tell me that you were a squirter.”

I chuckle, feeling the remaining ebbing pleasure tingling through my body. “I didn’t know I was one until last night,” I say.

He lifts me off his softening cock, and rolls out of bed.

“I think we ruined the bed just like my jacket,” he laughs.

I blush. “Sorry,” I say, but I’m really not. Suddenly, I frown a little and press a hand to my forehead.

“Do you feel sick?” he asks softly.

I shake my head, but I actually don’t feel very well.

He nods. “Let’s go down for breakfast.”

“Breakfast,” I repeat slowly.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

I shake my head.

He grins. “Well, I’m starving. Come on.” He takes my hands before I can protest and pulls me out of the bed to lead me to the door.

Something’s different about him this morning, and something is different about me, too, but I just can’t put my finger on it. As usual, stares follow us as he leads me down to the table. He pulls up a seat for me, and he settles beside me.

“You should eat breakfast each day. You’re getting too thin,” he says, filling my plate for me.

I watch him as he puts pancakes and bacon on the plate.

“Eat up,” he nods, encouraging me.

I snap out of it, pick up my fork, and just then the smell of the food hits my nose. I feel a pit growing in my stomach.

“Alyssa, are you okay?”

I open my mouth to tell him that I am fine, but no words come out because I swing to the side, emptying the contents of my already empty stomach onto the floor.

Later, my eyes are fixed on the doctor as he takes some notes. Antonio brought him down within the hour, even after I insisted I was fine. I kept telling him it was probably just a reaction to my exhaustion and nothing more.

I am lying in my bed, and Antonio is by my side, hunched over in worry. Suddenly, his phone beeps, and he turns to the doctor.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Take care of her.”

The doctor nods, and Antonio turns to me.

“I’ll be back. Stay put.”

I gulp as he walks away, putting his phone to his ear.

“Everything looks good,” the doctor says before I can ask.

“It’s been a stressful few weeks. I am surprised I didn’t get sick before now,” I joke, but the doctor doesn’t break or offer a smile.

He is a young man with a thick mustache that makes him look at least ten years older.

“I want to advise you to replace ways to handle your stress better. It is not exactly ideal for you and the baby.”

I frown. Maybe I am not okay after all.

“I am sorry, doctor, I got a bit distracted. What did you say?”

“I said you should replace ways to handle—”

“The last part.”

“Oh,” he says. “You didn’t know, then.”

“Know what exactly?”

“Your blood test confirms that you’re pregnant.”

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