The Knocked Up Plan

Kiss me harder, take me soon, drive me to the edge.

I moan against his mouth and try to pull him closer, wanting so much more of him. I’m the one who kicks things up another notch until I’m wriggling, panting, dying. It feels like I might die if he doesn’t put his mouth on me everywhere.

“You eager for something, baby?” he asks, toying with my libido in overdrive.

I grab his face, his jaw rough with stubble. “Please. Have mercy on the horny pregnant woman.”

“Define what this mercy entails.”

“Go. Down. On. Me.”

See? I’m not afraid to make demands, either. I’m about to dry hump the air if he doesn’t put me out of my misery.

He scoots me up on my bed, and I sink down on the pillows. He places his big hands on the inside of my thighs, and I quiver. I’m easy. God, I’m so easy right now. It’s possible my panties are already soaked.

“Are you just worked up, or are you worked up for me?”

“Don’t torture me. It’s you, Ryder. It’s you. I need your mouth on me. I need you to go down on me. I need you.”

The noise he makes is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. Carnal and dirty, it’s a rumble from deep within him. I arch my hips, begging for him to bring his face between my thighs.

He reaches for my panties and removes them in record time. Seriously. That’s just gone down in the record books as the fastest removal of underwear ever, and then . . .

My world is a blur.

A white-hot neon haze.

His lips are on me. His hands spread my legs. His tongue flicks against me. He moans and groans, and murmurs my name in some kind of dirty prayer of lust. My hands grab his head, my fingers slide into his hair.

And I lose myself.

I lose the world. I lose my mind.

This man. His desire. My need. It all smashes together in one radiant moment of erotic bliss. I rock my hips into his face, I curl my hands around his head, I cry and moan and pant, and I fuck him.

I absolutely fuck his face.

But it feels like more than fucking.

It feels like so much more than mere bodies coming together. It feels like he knows me, like I know him, and together we can let go and give in.

That’s what this is.

It’s surrender to everything inside my heart.

As I writhe and moan and thrust and grab, I surrender to how much I need him now, and in my life.

He gives me everything. His tongue strokes me, his lips kiss me, his mouth consumes me.

I’m not a difficult one when it comes to coming. Tonight, I’m a piece of cake. I reach zero to sixty in less than three minutes. Everything in me tightens and tightens, and the pleasure coils.

“Oh God,” I cry out.

The rest is just sounds. Syllables. Incoherent noises of pleasure as I shatter. I break apart into a thousand, million, infinite diamonds of pleasure. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

When he stops, I’m still buzzing. Electric pulses sweep over me, the remains of my orgasm. The aftershocks of the earthquake he gave me.

Ryder climbs over me. “I love the way you come. I love making you come. I bet you need another one.”

My eyes widen, and I nod. I’m ravenous, and will take anything he has to give.

He kneels between my legs. He drags a finger across me, tracking a slow, torturous line along my wet, soft, aching center, and my hips shoot up. How the hell can I feel this way again? But I do, oh God, I do.

He thrusts a finger inside me, and I see stars.

“Ryder,” I moan, and my eyes flutter shut. It’s too much. Too good. Too intense. I’m liquid. I am a molten woman as he strokes a long finger inside me, another one rubbing against my clit.

“Baby, I feel terrible,” he says with a groan.

“Why?”

“Because you need it so badly. I feel fucking terrible that you were this desperate for so long.”

“I did need it. I need you. Oh God, I need you.”

I ride his hand to the edge again. I fly off in seconds, coming again, harder, more intense. Deeper. When I open my eyes, he’s stripped down to nothing.

My mouth waters, and I push myself up in bed. I’m breathless. “What are you doing to me? I don’t even know how I’m alive.”

“You’re alive and so fucking beautiful,” he says, then reaches for the hem of my shirt and tugs it off me.

I’m in my bra and skirt, my belly pushing at the elastic waistband.

I’m not in the least bit sexy. I slide to the edge of the bed, push off my skirt, and unhook my bra.

He’s standing. His mouth falls open. His cock twitches, and I swear it grows even harder as he gazes at me.

“Nicole.” His voice is nothing but a dry husk.

I’m keenly aware this is the first time he’s seen me completely naked since he knocked me up. My body tightens with nerves. I hope he still finds me attractive. I hope my weight gain doesn’t change how he sees me.

He touches my breasts first. But he doesn’t stay there. He travels down my body, to my belly, to the baby, and he dips his head. He plants the gentlest kiss on my navel. “You’re so beautiful.”

Whatever tension I felt pours out of me.

“I am?” I can’t help myself. I need to ask. I’m not some fertility goddess hippy earth mother. I’m a dating and mating columnist in New York City, land of the free, home of the beautiful skinny women. I’m not skinny, and I don’t want to be right now.

But I want to know that he still wants me.

“God,” he says, running his hand over my naked stomach. “You’re stunning.” He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed. “And I have never wanted to fuck you more.”

I shiver.

I love that he says fuck. I love that he knows that’s what I need to hear, that he can still want me in the same raw, carnal way.

He runs his hand along his hard length, and I shudder.

I get to have him again. This man I’m crazy for.





Thirty-Three





Ryder

I position her ass at the edge of the bed and open her legs. A groan rattles free as I gaze at the warm paradise I’ve already visited twice tonight. She’s so fucking pretty. So pink, plump, and perfect.

I can’t get enough of her.

“Lie back on your elbows,” I tell her, because she’s not the only one who can research the best positions. She leans back, all breasts and belly and beautiful flesh.

I rub the head of my dick against her, and she stretches her neck and moans to the heavens.

I push in.

She takes me easily. So fucking easily. It’s a wet, hot slide into her pussy.

And it’s fucking magnificent. I shudder when I’m all the way in. I still myself as my skin sizzles. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed her. I’ve longed to touch her again. And I swear, it’s as if she’s vibrating with pleasure already. She was wonderfully orgasmic in the first place.

But now?

She’s a live wire.

She doesn’t hold back. She never has. But tonight, she’s a new woman. She rides the edge the entire time. I can see it in the exquisite torture on her face. In the way her mouth falls open. In how her fingers grip the covers as if she’s clutching them for dear life.

And I hear it in her noises.