Sweet Torment: A Novella Page 11

  Claudia picks up the pregnancy test and turns it around for me to see. “You mean sooner as in nine months from now?”

  Two pink lines. There’s no mistaking it. Our fate has been sealed. Our special bond is stronger than it’s ever been and can never be broken. We are forever connected through our love for one another. And now through this child.

  Claudia Laine Bliss. My little dove. It’s her face I see every time I close my eyes. It’s her lips I long to kiss. It’s her touch I crave. She is the tangible beat of my heart and air in my lungs.

  She is my love. My best friend. Almost my wife. And now my unborn child’s mother.

  Forever mine.

  Epilogue

  Claudia Bliss Windsor

  Bram and I move toward the bed, kissing en route. God, my husband has been insatiable this week.

  He peels my jacket from my shoulders and tosses it to the bench at the foot of our bed before pulling my shirt over my head. I’m wearing a white lace bra, not my sexiest, but my boobs are really jacked in it since they’ve gotten bigger the last couple of weeks.

  “God, I love your tits so much.”

  He caresses each one before pulling my bra down and reaching into the cups to lift them out. He thumbs my nipples, watching them harden, before he sucks one into his mouth while rhythmically squeezing both.

  “Sneaky bastard. I know what you’re doing.”

  He looks up at me all innocent-like and tugs my nipple until the suction releases with a popping sound. “Whaaat, Claud?”

  “You’re trying to make them letdown.” Horny bastard gets turned on when my milk leaks. “You’re such a weirdo.”

  “I can’t help it, baby. I love it.”

  Some men think leaking boobs are gross. But not my man. “I’m going to start having contractions if you keep playing with them like that.” Which wouldn’t necessarily disappoint me if the contractions wouldn’t be false labor. Been there, done that because the horny fucker won’t leave them alone.

  “I’ll stop.” He’s only saying that because he knows my breasts always gush after I come.

  He bends down to take off my boots. “I’m leaving on the knee socks. They make you look like a naughty schoolgirl when you’re naked.”

  I unfasten my bra while he pulls my leggings and panties down my legs. I hold his shoulders for balance since mine’s a bit off with this big belly, but he doesn’t forgo the opportunity to poke his nose between my legs for a sniff and then a lick at my slit. “I will never get enough of your pussy, Mrs. Windsor.”

  That mouth. I have to parent him as much as I do our kids. “Shh. If Abraham hears you say that, he’ll repeat it. And I would die a thousand deaths if he said that in front of our parents.”

  “We’re safe. The boys are napping.”

  We’re safe. That’s a joke. “Nothing about us having sex is safe.” We are fertile. Been married five years and almost three of those I’ve been pregnant.

  “Baby, there are only three ways that you don’t get knocked up. Abstinence, which ain’t happening. Anal, which I’m always happy to do. Or you’re already pregnant.”

  He ain’t lying. Birth control doesn’t work for us even when we use it correctly. But I’m glad it doesn’t. Our lives would be so very different if those birth control pills had worked five years ago.

  I love and adore our two precious little boys: Abraham and Brady. I love being their mother. I wouldn’t trade anything for them or our baby girl, Scout, whose arrival we’re so eagerly awaiting, but I’m ready to not be pregnant for a while.

  Bram steps back, looking me over from head to toe. “I love your pregnant body.”

  Another one of his weird fetishes. He loves me pregnant and my boobs leaking milk.

  He comes to me and caresses my abdomen. “This turns me on so much.”

  That’s a good thing since I’ve spent most of our marriage with a swollen belly. “Doesn’t take much to turn you on.”

  I unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he takes care of the cuffs. After he’s shirtless, I work on his pants as he kicks out of his shoes. “I told you a long time ago never to think you don’t turn me on. Five years in and I still can’t get enough of you.”

  He pulls me close and my bulging abdomen pushes against his flat, muscular one. He holds my hips as he lowers his lips to my shoulder and drags a slow kiss up toward my throat. “Want a little fuck in the ass?”

  Is he kidding me? “I’m nine months pregnant. Do you think I want a little fuck in the ass?”

  “What I think, little dove, is that you always act like you don’t want it, but you really do. So let’s make a deal. Let me try to make you want it. If I succeed, I get to fuck that tight hole.”

  Bram. Always trying to make deals to get his way. I think baby number two and three were both conceived because of one of his negotiations. “You can try all you like but I can assure you I’m not interested in having big Bram in my ass right now.” So much pressure there already. I don’t need anything else added to it.

  “We’ll see about that, baby.”

  “You’re right. We will.”

  He stacks several pillows on the bed. “Bend over and prop on these. Put your head down and relax, and let me take care of you.”

  I know what his version of let me take care of you means, and the result always consists of him getting off.

  He starts at my lower back, massaging the tight, achy muscles. He knows I’m a sucker for a back rub when I’m pregnant. “Feels good, baby?”

  “Yeah, you big suck-up, but it still doesn’t make me want your dick in my ass.”

  “Just getting started, Claud. Trust me. You’re gonna want big Bram inside you.”

  I totally disagree, but I’ll take this back rub all day long while he tries to convince me otherwise.

  He works the muscles softly and then deeply, gradually moving from my lower back to my butt. “Still feeling good?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He showers kisses on my skin and moves down to nibble on my cheeks. He goes lower and his warm breath is on my slit, teasing me before his tongue swipes upward. It feels good, and I wouldn’t mind him fucking me gently, but I’m still not on board with anal. I think that bum fun will be more bum than fun.

  There’s been so much more pressure there with this baby. Doctor says it’s because it’s my third. Odd. It doesn’t seem to be so bad at the moment.

  Bram pushes his finger through my slit and then circles my entrance, using my juices to lubricate it. “Can I fuck your pussy first?”

  First. The cocky bastard really believes he’s getting in my ass. “Yeah.”

  He slides inside me and slowly thrusts while rubbing the hole he’s really after. “Does that feel good?”

  I didn’t think it would but shit, it actually does. “Yes.”

  He moves in and out of me for a couple of minutes. “Want my finger inside your ass now?”

  Fuck. The horny, anal-sex-loving bastard is actually making me want this. Dammit, it feels like defeat after I was so cocky about not wanting it. “Yes.”

  I’m rocking my hips forward and back with his thrusts when his finger slides in. This shouldn’t feel this good. And where the hell did all that pelvic pressure go?

  “Want me to add another one?”

  Fuck me, I do. “Yes.”

  “That’s my good girl.” He slides a second finger in and leans over to kiss my back. “You like that, don’t you?”

  I don’t reply because I hate admitting he’s right, but my husband knows my answer by the way I’m moving with him.

  “Don’t have to tell me, Claud. I know what you want.”

  He does. Always has.

  Bram pulls out of me and glides his cock through my slit. I anticipate him entering my ass at any moment, but he doesn’t. I wait some more, even rub against him to let him know I’m ready. But he still doesn’t enter me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I know this is it. The last time I get inside you f
or a long time, so I’m psyching myself up. I don’t want to come after two strokes.”

  His statement is a reminder we will be getting the newest member of the Windsor household tomorrow. My doctor says this baby girl is getting too big for my small pelvis so I’m going into the hospital in the morning to be induced since I haven’t gone into labor on my own.

  “You won’t come in two strokes, so go for it, big Bram.”

  He eases into me and groans, “Fuck! That is so good.” He pulls back and then thrusts in slowly again. “Is this good for you, babe?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” It is. Like Bram, I enjoy anal sex, so we’re a perfect match.

  Bram reaches around to rub my clit. He’s so good at this. Making me come while he fucks me in my ass. So good. Every. Time.

  He circles it fast and hard, slow and soft, back and forth, side to side. He thought he would be the one to come fast, but it’s going to be me if he keeps this up. “I’m already close.”

  He’s moving faster now. “Come for me, Claud. I want to feel your body quiver and contract around me because you’re orgasming hard.”

  I circle my hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. Then the first wave comes. I clench my cheeks around him tightly, but he keeps moving when my insides squeeze around him.

  “Claud… oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” That’s all he manages to get out.

  I hear a naughty little chuckle before he leans down to kiss my back. “Told you I’d make you want it. I always do.”

  “Damn you, Noel Abraham Windsor. How do you do that?”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Bram jerks out of me at the same time that I jolt at the sound of our son’s voice coming from the doorway. I dive, best I can, into the bed and pull the sheet over me. “Abraham, what are you doing up from your nap?”

  “What you doing to Mama?”

  I look at my husband with wide eyes for an answer.

  Bram busies himself with pulling on his jeans. “Baby Scout was making Mama’s back hurt, so I was rubbing it to make her feel better.”

  Abraham is a smart boy, sometimes too smart. Not sure he’s buying that story.

  Bram reaches for a T-shirt. “Go watch cartoons while I finish changing clothes, and I’ll come make you a snack.”

  “‘Kay.”

  Bram laughs as he falls on the bed beside me.

  I slap his chest. “Not funny. We probably just scarred our son for life.”

  “He’s four, Claud. He’ll be fine.”

  God, I hope so. I walked in on my parents having sex one time. Took years for me to recover.

  Bram reaches under the sheet and rubs my tummy. The baby is active, moving all over the place. “I do believe that stirred Miss Scout.”

  When I look down, I can see the waves of movement under my skin like a restless sea. “I’m going to miss that.”

  “Probably not for long the way we breed.”

  “No. This is the last one.”

  Bram stops rubbing my stomach and looks at me. I see the fear in his eyes.

  “Clarification: the last one for a while. I’m twenty-three and this is my third baby. My body needs a break. It’s tired.”

  “You scared me. I thought you were saying we were done for good.”

  Bram has said from the start of our marriage that our family would be complete with four kids. I don’t know about that. Guess it all depends on how many reckless moments we have in the future since each of them seems to result in him putting another baby inside me.

  Bram Windsor. I have loved that man my entire life. From the first memory I have of him, he was in my heart. Always will be.

  He is my love. My best friend. My husband. My children’s father.

  Forever mine.

  The End

  It is my greatest hope that you enjoyed Sweet Torment. It was a quick and fun read but I appreciate the time you invested in my story… in my words… in a part of me.

  I would be honored and grateful if you choose to leave a review.

  EXCERPT: INDULGE

  A steamy standalone novel from Georgia Cates

  INDULGE BLURB

  From New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Best-selling author, Georgia Cates, comes a steamy new standalone novel.

  Beau Emerson is no gentleman.

  Those hazel eyes.

  That filthy mouth.

  That greedy, hard body.

  It all equates to one thing. Irresistible.

  One look and I know he’ll bruise my lips and scar my knees. He’ll give me the best nine days of my life while ruining me in the most beautiful way imaginable. And I’ll let him because he has the power to talk me into anything.

  Except one thing.

  Staying.

  I have no choice. The things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. I want more than he’s capable of giving––something true and beautiful.

  He can never know how much of me belongs to him. Too much is at stake.

  Shh … don’t tell him he’s my everything.

  My name is Anna James Bennett. And this is our story.

  Prologue

  Anna James Bennett

  I sigh as I toss the thick legal envelope across the island in Meredith’s gourmet kitchen. The proof of my marriage’s dissolution barely comes to a stop before plummeting over the edge. “It’s final, as of today.”

  My best friend, Meredith, squeals. “Yes. This calls for a celebratory drink.”

  The word celebratory implies happiness or joy. That isn’t the case for me. My husband of twelve months left me for a nineteen-year-old. A kid. His former student.

  Fucker.

  He swears nothing happened while she was his pupil.

  Liar.

  He claims it’s true love.

  Dumbass.

  Drake’s relationship with Caitlyn is fleeting. She’s an immature teen who wants to play house. The paint won’t dry on the walls of their new apartment before she’s ready to bail.

  “I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion.” Ahh. A bottle of Wittmann Westhofener Morstein Riesling. Always rich in body and texture. My favorite.

  Gulp. Gulp. The bottle gurgles as Meredith pours far more than three ounces. My glass is three-quarters full when she presses two fingers against the base and glides it across the sleek Carrara marble toward me. I instantly salivate when the essence of honey, peach, mango, and flowers invades my nostrils.

  Meredith lifts her glass, cueing me to the toast she’s about to make. “Here’s to the end of an error––your misconception that Drake Langston was a knight in shining armor rather than what he really is—a turd in tinfoil.”

  “I know that’s the truth.” I tap my glass against hers before taking the first sip of dry, fruity goodness. Damn, that’s good stuff.

  “Capone made sure you got everything you wanted?”

  Alec Capone is the most successful divorce attorney in Georgia. He should be with a name like that. “I got more than I wanted, including custody of Little Bastard, since Drake relinquished ownership of him. Caitlyn’s allergic.” I’m epically pissed off about him dumping his cat on me.

  “Are you keeping the lil’ guy?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Kermit, aka Little Bastard, has no love for me. Doesn’t matter that I’ve been the one who has fed him his every bite, changed his litter box every time, taken him to the vet for every visit, even the time he was deathly ill from eating part of my foam flip-flop.

  “You won’t have a problem if you decide to rehome him. He’s beautiful. Plenty of cat lovers would take him just because he’s a Bengal.”

  Kermit was Drake’s trophy cat. Pretty to look at and that’s about it. Much like Caitlyn.

  I have no emotional connection to Little Bastard. I’ve tried to bond, but he’s resistant. That’s why I’m so surprised by the way I feel when I think of giving him away. He’s resistant to loving me. Just like Drake.

  “I got my name back.” That’s what I wanted most. Bennett
. My daddy’s name.

  The wrinkle in Meredith’s brow serves as a warning. It’s always a prelude to something serious. “I understand those papers feel like a painful ending, but that’s because they’re disguising what today is. A new beginning. Grayson and I think it’s important for you to treat this as a fresh start.”

  Meredith disappears into the dining room and returns with a gift bag covered in curly ribbon and filled with tissue paper.

  “Your divorce gift. Read the card first.”

  I open the envelope and read the message aloud. “Congratulations on your divorce. We hated him.”

  “No secret there.” I already knew Meredith and Grayson despised Drake.

  I rip into the bag, tossing aqua and lime tissue paper in every direction. I’m worse than a child when it comes to tearing into gifts.

  I take out each item and place it on the countertop. Sunscreen. Ray-Bans. The ridiculously expensive bikini I lusted for at that expensive boutique in Buckhead. And condoms.

  “Sur . . . prise. Grayson and I are taking you to Jamaica with us next month.”

  Umm . . . not just no. “Forget it. Not happening.”

  “Oh, it’s happening. We’ve already booked two suites and your airline ticket. First class.”

  She’s out of her mind. I’m not going to that place. “Cancel one. Unless you and Grayson plan to use separate suites.”

  “Can’t cancel. It’s Wicked Week at the resort so both rooms had to be paid for in full. Nonrefundable.”

  This is her way of guilting me into doing what she wants. She thinks I’ll say yes if her money won’t be returned. “You’re so wrong for doing this to me.”

  “You need a getaway, and we knew you’d never agree otherwise. Don’t be mad.”

  I’m not mad. I’m pissed. I’ve already made plans for the next three months. “I’m taking a second job while school’s out for summer. There’s no way an employer will give me vacation time four weeks after hiring me.”