I’m not the shy girl or the ignored girl or the too-curvy girl.
And I’m definitely not a virgin.
No, I’m Artem Elgort’s woman.
I’m the one who belongs to him.
And him to me.
And my orgasm is like a crescendo as he tugs at my hair and I throw my head back and howl like a madwoman.
I’m mad, yes, yes, I’m mad with the lust swarming through me.
Artem growls like a beast as his body collapses forward, his muscular torso lying flat against mine, both of us gasping in frantic breaths as his cock shoots load after load of his seed inside of me.
I feel him, pumping, firing.
I feel his seed swimming deep inside of me and finding my womb.
And as the first seed finds its home, a kissing shiver clatters through me.
Goosebumps prick my neck, my throat, my everything.
“I can feel you,” I gasp, reaching up and grabbing his face, moving so that we’re cheek to cheek, his growling breaths painting me in fiery heat. “I can feel our babies, Artem. Oh, God. Can you?”
“Of course I fucking can,” he says, kissing my neck, biting me softly. “It’s the best feeling in the goddamn world.”
Chapter Six
Artem
The next morning, I sit in the kitchen with Rocky bounding around at my feet, his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth. I glance down at him and can’t help but smirk, feeling sex-sore for the first time in my life.
When I told Anna, I thought she might laugh.
Or flat-out refuse to believe me.
It’s true. I’ve had an absurd number of women try to throw themselves at my feet over my long years as king of kings, but they’ve never stirred anything interest in me, never made me care.
They were never her.
I look up at Anna as she walks into the room, piling her dark hair atop her head artfully, so sexy and womanly with her movements, her bathrobe showing a slice of chest that has my balls aching and willing me to take her, take her right now.
“You’re lucky Rocky’s here,” I tell her.
She giggles and kneels down to rub Rocky behind his ears, and then glances at the second coffee mug on the counter.
“Wait a second, Artem Elgort, you didn’t actually make me coffee, did you?”
I chuckle, feeling more carefree than I have in my entire life.
I wonder if this is what childhood feels like, full of hope for the future. I wouldn’t know.
“I might not be a soon-to-be-Michelin-star chef like you, Anna, but believe it or not, I know how to work the coffee machine. Shall we drink these in the garden? It’s a nice morning and I don’t have to leave for work for an hour yet.”
A strange smile touches her lips as she stares at me with her bright blue eyes.
“What?” I say, looking back at her.
“What?” she echoes, cutely dancing across the kitchen.
“You’re … looking at me.”
“Hmm, and is that a crime now?” She giggles, resting her chin in her hands as she leans on the counter, giving me a glimpse of her breasts that makes me want to suck them until they’re red-raw. “It’s just this is so crazy. I woke up thinking it might be a dream. I mean, it feels so right, you know? But at the same time I’m scared that I’ll wake up and be back there, back in that … that hell, being sold.”
“Sold,” I say, nodding. “Nobody should be treated like that. Come on, let’s go outside. We’ll drink our coffee in the sun and let Rocky run around. Things will seem better with a little caffeine.”
We walk out to the deck furniture together, the sun cresting the horizon and bathing the grounds in bright, hopeful yellow. We sit around the oak table and lay our coffee down, Anna folding one leg over the other, her thighs pale and creamy, making me imagine grabbing them and leaving my beast’s paw-print on her flesh.
Anna meets my eye and then rolls hers, smiling so that two endearing dimples open up in her cheeks.
“You’re insatiable,” she says. “How many times did we do it yesterday, huh, and you still want more?”
“Four,” I growl. “And yes, I do. And so do you.”
“Guilty,” she whispers, blushing only a little.
We both sip our coffee and watch as Rocky sprints straight for the fountain, probably attracted to the bobbing stone ornaments that skim across the surface, propelled by invisible strings that keep them afloat.
“I think he’s going to jump in there,” Anna notes.
I laugh grimly.
“I think you might be—”
Splash.
Water flies into the air and flares in droplets as Rocky clears the stone lip of the fountain and ends up in the water. I watch him carefully, making sure he can swim, and then turn back to Anna when I see that, not only can he swim, but he could join the goddamned Olympics.