Knocked Up and Punished: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance Read online

  I turn to him, glaring while simultaneously feeling a rush of heat flood my body. My mother’s eyebrows flick upwards in surprise, but she only smirks. My father didn’t seem to notice.

  “What would we do without our women,” muses Alfred.

  Reid nods. “Exactly, exactly. I couldn’t agree more. Tea?”

  “Please,” says my mother. My father nods.

  Reid walks toward me and pauses. He gives me a slightly panicked look. “Do you have tea?” He whispers.

  “Yes,” I whisper back.

  “I don’t know how to make tea,” he says quietly enough so that only I can hear.

  I roll my eyes, hardly believing I can grin at a time like this. I may have spent my whole life trying to stand apart from my parents and defying them. I may put up a strong front and say I don’t care, but the truth is, it’s not about caring, it’s about proving myself. The thing I’ve always wanted deep down is to show them they are wrong about me. I’ve want them to see I can make something of myself. I can find happiness and fulfillment outside their social circle, and that I can do it without their help. If they even begin to catch wind of my real situation, all of that work will shatter. No matter what happens after this, they will always remember the time they caught me in a web of lies and how pathetic my situation really is.

  “Is Chamomile okay?” I ask, setting down the saucers and grabbing some sugar.

  Roman, who has largely been silent so far, clears his throat. “Father. Will we be ‘questrian riding today?” He gives the same, adorable look of question to Reid after he delivers his line, as if waiting to see if he said it right.

  Questrian? Does he mean equestrian?

  “Of course, good boy. Just like we do every day.”

  Alfred cocks a brow at me. “Really, now? I didn’t know your fiancé is into riding, dear.”

  “Oh yes,” I say, forcing a smile that hopefully hides the panic I’m feeling. “Reid is an avid rider.”

  “Is that right?” asks my mother.

  “You bet your jimmies,” says Reid. He winks at me again and I have to stop myself from slapping the smirk off his face. He has no idea how bad he’s doing at pretending to be one of their kind. It’s a shock that my parents aren’t already calling him on it. For some reason they both actually seem to be looking at him with a vague sense of approval that I’m definitely not used to seeing on them. “How about a demonstration?” asks Reid, making as if he’s about to get on his hands and knees and have Roman ride his back.

  “No, honey. Bad idea,” I say. “You know what I always say,” I add, laughing in too high a pitch. “No equestrian activity in the house!”

  Reid straightens, brushing the creases from his slacks. He nudges Alfred. “She does always say that.”

  “Well,” says my father, with a happy smile that I’ve only seen him use when he looks at my sister. “I have to say I was half-expecting Sandra’s business-minded fiancé to turn out to be one of those turnkey business owners.” He barks a laugh at that, slapping his knee and holding Reid’s gaze uncomfortably the whole time.

  Reid handles it perfectly though, laughing right along with my father, grasping his stomach and throwing his head back. Roman watches his father and mimics the laugh. I have to cover my face to hold back the smile of disbelief forming on my face.

  “A turnkey business owner!” gasps Reid. “My God, man. You really are a hoot.”

  I have to step into the kitchen, away from their eyes and ears to grasp the counter and let out a long, stifled laugh that shakes my whole body. I can’t believe what is going on out in the living room. It’s too improbable to believe, but there it is. Reid Riggins, the most gruff, abrasive man I’ve ever known, is out there schmoozing with my parents and they are buying every second of it. My laughter nearly turns to abject panic when I realize there’s no way he can keep them fooled. He’s probably out there right now about to say something that’s going to give him away once and for all.

  When I step back out into the living room, my parents are uncharacteristically rowdy as they cheer on Roman, who is riding Reid around the room like he’s a horse.

  “Guide him with your ankles, son!” laughs my father.

  “There it is!” adds my mother. “Trust the horse and he’ll take care of the rest.”

  I watch with a mixture of shock, horror, and amusement. My parents who have only ever seemed able to scowl in my presence look to be having the time of their lives. Granted, none of their good humor or amusement is coming from me, but this is beyond unusual. And Reid…

  I look at the way he’s bucking his hips and laughing with Roman as he makes a fool of himself. For me. He’s doing all of this for me. I don’t know how much it taxes him or if it does at all, but the simple and plain fact is right there. Clear as day. Reid may not be the selfish asshole I pegged him as. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who jumped to conclusions. He assumed I was just letting my parents’ money solve my problems, and I’ve been assuming he’s as heartless as Tara led me to believe.

  Now I’m not so sure.

  The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, to my amazement. In fact, it goes too well, because instead of leaving like they had originally planned, my parents insisted on renting out a bed and breakfast for themselves to stay a few days. They were completely smitten by Reid and Roman. Neither Alfred nor Collette paid me much attention, but even having them approve of something or someone associated with me is a massive step up in treatment, so I can’t even complain.

  When they finally leave, It’s close to eight, and Roman is already asleep on the couch. Reid closes the door behind them and turns to me, breathing out a long sigh. “How’d I do?” he asks with a smirk that says he knows exactly how well he did.

  “You were amazing,” I say.

  Our eyes lock, and I realize we’re standing incredibly close. So close I can smell the woodsy scent of him. My hands itch to reach for him, to splay across his broad chest and work his buttons open, one by one.

  “Being your fiancé wasn’t so bad,” he says.

  I bite my lip, a little embarrassed at how much of a thrill that sends through me. What is he implying? “I can’t disagree.”

  He chuckles. “It’s settled then. Let’s just tie the knot.”

  “Wh-what?” I ask.

  “I’m just fucking with you,” he says.

  “Yeah. Obviously. Of course,” I say quickly. “But what are we going to do about the ring? If my parents are staying, they will expect to see it soon.”

  “I’ll figure that out.”

  “Reid... Thank you. What you did for me today was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You have no idea what it meant to me to see my parents that happy. I’ve spent so long convincing myself I hated them.” I laugh a little bitterly. “I still resent them for expecting so little out of me, but I also think I may have just hated that I couldn’t make them happy… I couldn’t do it in eighteen years of living with them, and you did it in one night.”

  I rock forward onto my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. My lips linger against the heat of his skin longer than I intend, his scent intoxicating me. His strong hand threads up my neck and into my hair. Our eyes meet, only centimeters apart.

  “I know just the way for you to thank me,” he says, crashing his lips onto mine and lifting me so my legs can wrap around his waist. He carries me effortlessly toward my bedroom, weaving around obstacles and past the small, sleeping form of Roman.

  We kiss like we’re starving, like every lust-filled kiss could be the last one and we have to make it strong enough to last an eternity. I’ve never kissed anyone like this. Reid infuses every kiss with more sexuality and power than most men could give me in hours, just like a master painter can put more meaning into a brush stroke than an amateur can put on an entire canvas,

  My body reacts to him like a drug. My pulse pounds. My breath comes in heaving, gasping breaths between the locking of our lips and the dance of our tongues. Every movement,
touch, and sensation is bliss. I’m thrown down on the bed and Reid stands over me, stripping off his suit and ripping his shirt apart, sending stripped buttons scattering to the carpet. I’ve seen him shirtless before. Outside, in the sun, covered in grease, oil, and sweat. Now I see him like I never have before. Every muscle is a threat. A promise. The powerfully carved chest and abs are a reminder of how much power he has over me, how completely and totally he can rule me in this room. It’s a reminder that I’m in his domain now.

  And my God does that turn me on.

  I’ve spent my life trying to prove I can take control for myself, trying to prove I’m above sitting back and letting the power of my parents’ money handle things for me. But here, in this bedroom, and in the presence of Reid, I have no desire to be in control. No, I want to be controlled. I want him to take me how he wants me. With him, I can feel power in surrender.

  “You liked pretending to be my fucking wife-to-be, didn’t you?” he asks, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside before pushing his pants off.

  I bite my lip, nodding and scooting back, away from him on the bed.

  He growls, grabbing my ankle and yanking me back toward him. “Don’t run away, wife.”

  Wife. Even imagining being Reid’s wife opens a torrent of confusion in my head. What would that even be like? He would come in from a day of work smelling raw and manly. He’d put his dirty hands all over me. Possessively. Hungrily. He’d probably drag me to bed whether I wanted to or not. He’d take me when he wanted. How he wanted. He would protect me and value me.

  I close my eyes, letting my head fall back into the blankets. “I liked it,” I whisper.

  He rips my pants off in one swift motion, taking my panties with them. “You liked what?” he asks.

  “I liked pretending to be yours.”

  His grin is dangerous as he strips me of my shirt and bra, leaving me as completely naked as he is. “And you liked feeling my cum deep in your fucking pussy, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, cheeks burning hot.

  “You want to carry my baby. You want to be my wife.”

  I clamp my mouth shut, not trusting myself to deny it. I should deny it, deny him, but I don’t know that I want to anymore.

  He smirks down at me. “You’ll admit it before I’m done with you. That’s a promise.”

  A ball of fear grows in my chest. He wants me to admit it? Why? Is it for his own ego? Does he just like to know how quickly and deeply he can make a sensible woman turn against her better judgment? Or does he want me to admit it because he wants it too? God, I can’t believe how far he already has me over the edge. Now I’m about to sleep with him for the third time and I’m clinging to the hope that he wants to marry me? I must be losing it.

  His hands snap me out of my thoughts. Big, strong, calloused hands exploring my body reverently. The heavy, fast hunger of our kisses seems to have subsided. Now he moves his hands and eyes over me inch by inch, as if in wonder. His touch leaves a wake of tingling pleasure behind, and his eyes burn hot paths across my skin, heightening my arousal with every passing second.

  He presses my legs apart and I can feel the cool air against my hot opening. I’m embarrassed by how wet I already am for him. More wet than I’ve ever been. Hotter than I’ve ever been. My core clenches with need, clit throbbing and aching for friction. For release.

  He doesn’t make me wait.

  He slides a hand up my inner thigh and finds the heat of my core, spreading my wetness until his fingers glide effortlessly across me. Within seconds, I realize he’s not just good with his hands. He’s a master. I can’t even tell exactly what’s he’s doing, but it feels like heaven. Somehow he’s simultaneously curling two fingers against my G-spot and circling my clit with his thumb and forefinger.

  I’ve never found being fingered very appealing because guys before him always managed to make it seem like they were digging for spare change. Reid couldn’t be more different. His fingers are magic. Not even a minute into his attentions, and I feel the building pressure of release threatening to come at any moment. I push it back, not wanting him to see how quickly he can bring me to climax.

  He kisses a hot path up my chest, neck, behind my ear, and finally to my waiting lips. All the while his fingers move blindingly against me, drawing more pleasure from me than I knew I was capable of feeling. The weight of his body on top of me feels good. Comforting. Protective. I claw my fingers into his hard back, probably leaving red lines, but not caring.

  “You’re so good,” I groan into his neck.

  “You like having your fiancé’s fingers in your pussy?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  My fiancé. Why does it sound less like a game now when he says it? Why is he dangling it in front of me? And why the hell is the idea so tantalizing?

  “Yes,” I say. “God. Yes.”

  He pulls his hand away from me, leaving me feeling empty and hollow in his absence. My entire body is on overdrive. My skin tingles from head to toe. My core is throbbing, almost physically hurting from how badly I need it to be filled by him. Reid moves me with confident hands, positioning me so I’m straddling his face as he lays on his back. I don’t even spare a thought of embarrassment for having my ass right in his face.

  With most guys, I would worry they might spot some imperfection in my most private places and be turned off. With Reid? He’s a different creature entirely. I can’t explain how I know it, but there’s no shame with a man like Reid. There’s no hiding. He consumes. He devours. And right now, he wants me. There’s no imperfection in his eyes. I’m the object of his desire. Knowing that give me such a sense of freedom and arousal. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. I can be free with him. Here. Now. I can be myself, I can let go. I can surrender, for once.

  I get my first real look at his cock and I actually put a hand to my mouth in shock. “Oh my God,” I say.

  Reid responds by gripping my hips and pulling me down so I’m sitting on his face. His tongue and mouth are just as talented as his fingers, maybe more so. I gasp, falling forward, right above his cock. I grip it at the base, marveling at how thick and big it is. I was too drunk to remember our first time, and I barely got a glimpse of his cock the second time. Now I’m not surprised I was a little sore the following day.

  I’ve never really been aroused by the idea of giving a blowjob, but like everything else, it’s different with Reid. Even though his tongue is doing sinful things between my legs, making me weak, I want nothing more than to take his cock as far into my mouth as I can. My hands feel so small around it as I start stroking, resting my elbows on his hard stomach and using both hands to stroke its length. I love how he shudders at my touch. When I kiss a slow path from the base of his cock to the head, he sucks in a quick breath, tongue motionless inside me until I plunge the velvety head of his cock inside my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive rim.

  He grunts something into my pussy, but I can’t make it out.

  My attention shifts between the explosion of pleasure between my legs and the job of pleasing him as well as I can. I work my hands up and down his cock, sucking, kissing, and moving my lips across him. I lose myself in the motions, focusing more and more of my attention on holding back the climax begging to crash over me. I hold it back just to prove I can. I may be turned on by the idea of surrendering to him and letting him do what he wants with me, but I want to prove I can hold my own with him as well.

  “Fuck,” he says breathlessly, pulling away from me. “On your knees, sweetheart. I’m going to fill you so fucking deep you’ll feel it for weeks.”

  I obey, moving off of him and settle on my knees, waiting for him to fill me.

  He moves behind me, sighing deeply. “You’re so fucking sexy. You know that? I could look at that ass all night.”

  “You better hurry up and fuck me,” I say over my shoulder. “I need you inside me. Now.”

  My words light something hot and fiery in his eyes. He bites his lip, smirk
ing as he grips me tight by the hips. He thrusts into me in one smooth motion, driving his cock inside me to the hilt. I gasp, trying to arch my back, but his strong hand presses the small of my back down, forcing me to stay relaxed. His other hand still grips my hip tightly as he starts to find a rhythm inside me.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “Why are we pretending?”

  “What?” I ask as his hips slap against my ass again and again, rocking me forward with each impact. My vision is blurring from the pleasure and I can barely hold myself up on my arms.

  “To be, ugh,” he pauses, holding himself deep inside me and splaying his hand across the smooth skin of my back before slapping my ass hard enough to make me yelp. “To be engaged,” he finishes. “Just fucking marry me for real.”

  My eyes are squeezed shut and I’m gripping the covers like a lifeline. My world is in the entry and withdrawal of his impossibly perfect cock. His words are barely registering. My senses are completely and totally overwhelmed. All I know is I can’t hold back this orgasm any longer. It breaks against me like a tidal wave, crashing through my defenses, flooding my system with perfect and absolute bliss.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes! God, Reid. Yes!”

  He slams into me, cock pulsing as he cums deep inside me.

  42

  Reid

  I stay up most of the night making the ring. My mind keeps replaying the moment. I asked her to marry me for real and she fucking loved it. There’s a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I should have asked her in a calmer moment, when I could be more sure that she really meant it. That I really meant it. I’ve been pushing things forward with Sandra fast. Maybe too fast. I haven’t even had time to tell her about my grandfather’s will. I’ve seen enough now to know my feelings for her don’t have shit to do with the will. Even if the will said I would lose my garage if I was married with two kids at thirty five, I’d still want this. She’s the one, and I don’t need to spend another minute with her to know that.