Accidental Surrogate

“Liar,” I murmur, glancing at him over my shoulder as he positions himself against my center, running his head up and down my s*x, teasing me. “You haven’t been starving. You’ve been f*cking me in my dreams. Wasn’t that enough to keep the hunger at bay?”

He chuckles lowly, bringing his cock back to my center and slowly beginning to press into me.” You tell me,” he says, gasping as he goes. “When I f*ck you in your dreams, does it feel anything like this?

And suddenly I’m gasping too as he starts to fill me, my vision flooded with stars as I press my eyes shut and moan into the fabric of my pillow. Every inch of him stretches me, feeling like an unending fullness as I feel the swell of his head making room for the rest of him on its path deeper inside me. The sensation rips through me like a storm, the pleasure of it and my hips buck against him, urging him on, needing more

Sinclair gives a rough shudder as he finishes seating his length deep inside me. Then, he rocks his hips back, making me groan anew to feel him pull out an inch, and then slam again home. Sinclair wraps himself closer around me, one hand finding my breast as he repeats the action again and again, a rough, feral pounding over which neither of us have control. The sensation builds in me as his other hand slips over my hip, pressing against my swollen and greedy clit, and I cry out as he presses me there, increasing his pace as he does.

“I’m sorry,” he grits through his teeth, completely undone by the intensity of this after months of wanting, and abstaining, and holding back. “F*ck, Ella, I’m sorry – I can’t last – you’re so f*cking

–

And then he gives a final spasm and a cry and I feel him spill loose in me, the sensation warm and thick and rich, and the thought of it – of him bursting thick spurts of hot cum inside of me – makes me spill over, my orgasm making me rock my hips back hard against him, forcing him deeper against that favorite place inside of me that makes me shake and shiver.

We lay there for awhile, spent, my back pressed against his chest, panting quietly. “Ella,” he whispers after a moment, my name barely audible on his breath. “Are you…are you all right?”

I nod my head, my eyes closed, letting my body feel the afterthought of the shivers that still run through me from head to toe.

“No,” he says, shaking my shoulder a bit. “I mean…the baby.”

My eyes fly open at the idea and I look down at myself, quickly assessing…

But…

whisper, turning to give him a little

face further to him and giving me a feral

tell that Sinclair understands my emotions. It’s so wonderful to be able to be with my mate like this again, but if the point of all this to somehow shake this baby loose? “I don’t know, Sinclair,” I say, running a hand over my stomach. “I’m not feeling anything like labor. I

idea. “Fine by me,” he murmurs, beginning to kiss his way down my body. “Just gives me more time to enjoy

as my mate kisses his way down my body. I suppose he’s right though – even if we do have weeks to wait, at least we

—

though, of course, some of it is. But a great deal of our time is spent just holding each other close, letting our bodies fall into their old rhythms together, our breath and heartrates aligning in a way they

not needing to invite Sinclair in tonight because I know he’ll be there waiting for me when I wake up. It’s not that I don’t want him there tonight it’s just…a peaceful beat, where he dreams his dreams and I have mine to myself, separate but together. My

I wake to a deep ache in my lower back. I give a little moan of discomfort, twisting my aching muscles to ease them, but I only feel the ache grow deeper. I gasp a little as a sharp pain runs through me, starting in my middle and then radiating through my body. I frown down at my belly, running my hands over it, wondering what’s up. Is it something I

like…well, like I’m very gassy, maybe? Or starting my period? 1

drift off to sleep for a

begins again, this time deep and echoing through my muscles. I

next to me, sitting up and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Ella?” he asks, worried.

my shoulder, rubbing my stomach. “I just think

“I

he presses, worried.

our afternoon wasn’t such a waste after all.” I give him a big smile and let him press his hands

down at my abdomen, fascinated. Then he looks up at me, curious.

laugh a little and shake my head, the ache and the pressure in my lower stomach fading a little. “No,” I say. “I didn’t think to.” Then, I close my eyes and reach for the

serious face. His eyes are closed as he too reaches out to

”