Chapter 113 Kisses, Kicks & Control
Iva’s P.O.V.
Three Months Later
I still find it hard to believe that I’m five months pregnant. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and press my hand to my stomach just to make sure the heartbeat is still there, that our miracle really did survive against all odds. It feels like a beautiful dream that I never want to wake up from.
I’m sitting on the couch in the nursery, my hand resting on my growing baby bump. Will stands behind me, gently massaging my shoulders. His touch is so comforting like always. I melt into him, closing my eyes for a moment.
We have waited so long for this peace.
My gaze drifts around the nursery with a smile on my face. We’ve decorated it together, every little detail filled with love. It is exactly how I envisioned it. Every book is alphabetised on the white shelves. Tiny fairy lights are draped along one corner. A white crib sits near the window, decorated with cushions and a small hanging mobile with stars and clouds.
There’s a rug beneath my feet, and a rocking chair in the corner where I already imagine holding my mini me for hours.
And of course… there’s still space. Because I know I’ll keep adding more.
Suddenly, my eyes widen as a strange sensation ripples through my abdomen. It’s not a flutter or a bubble this time. It’s firm. “Will—”
He immediately stops and rounds the chair to kneel in front of me, his expression shifting to concern. "What? What happened? Are you in pain?"
I grab his hand quickly and place it over my belly, my voice filled with excitement. “Mini me kicked… Oh— it kicked again!”
His eyes light up instantly. For a moment, we both go silent, holding our breath. Then, right under his thumb, there’s a rhythmic thump again.
“I can feel it too. Fucking wow. I actually felt that,” he says, his voice filled with pure awe.
We both grin at each other, completely lost in the moment.
“It’s an amazing feeling, isn't it?” I ask, my heart racing.
“Mini-Professor is getting quite active now,” he chuckles.
I laugh softly. We’ve already started calling our baby by these silly nicknames, mini-me and mini-Professor.
He leans closer to my bump. “Hey, Mini-Professor, Daddy can’t wait to hold you. I’m counting down every single day until you get here. You better be ready, because I'm going to teach you everything.”
I watch him, my heart full to bursting. Seeing this powerful, commanding man speak so tenderly to my stomach is a sight I will never get tired of.
These moments feel priceless.
I close my eyes as he gently lifts my top and places a soft kiss against my belly.
In response, the baby delivers a solid kick right against his mouth.
“Mini me kicked again.” I laugh, covering my mouth.
"Really?" Will asks, looking up at me with a look of pure wonder. I nod frantically with a wide smile fixed on my face. "Let me try that again."
He presses his lips to a different spot, and the baby responds with another tiny jab.
“Wow…” he stares at me, completely mesmerised.
He keeps doing it, placing soft kisses again and again, just to feel those little responses.
I can’t stop laughing, threading my fingers through his hair. “Looks like someone already loves you more.”
He looks up at me with a playful smirk. “Of course. Mini-Professor already knows who the favourite parent is.”
I roll my eyes, smiling. “We’ll see about that.”
He stands up slowly and kisses my forehead, his one hand still resting protectively over my belly.
This isn’t just happiness. This is peace. The peace we fought for and almost lost, and now, we finally have it.
Then he moves away from me.
“Stand up, Professor.” The sudden shift in his tone sends a familiar shiver down my spine.
There it is.
The caring husband who was just whispering to my belly vanishes instantly. My Master is back. I love this about him that the way he can switch sides in a heartbeat, reminding me that while our world has changed, the foundation of who we are remains untouched.
Even at five months pregnant, our sessions haven't stopped. They’ve become softer, more careful, but still there. Still ours.
Like always, I obey without a second thought, slowly rising to my feet.
His gaze darkens as it travels over me. “Take off your clothes.”
One by one, the layers fall away until I’m standing bare in front of him.
His eyes stay on my body, then settle on my stomach. “You look even sexier like this, Professor. This…” he steps closer and places his hand on my belly before gently caressing it, “drives me insane.”
A soft gasp escapes me at his touch.
“God… so fucking beautiful,” he adds, standing behind me, his large palms stroking my bump as we gaze at our reflection in the nursery window.
I swallow hard. I’m completely naked, wearing nothing but the collar inscribed with his initial. My belly is rounded with his child while he stands behind me fully dressed in his suit. This shows exactly who has the power. Seeing myself stripped bare while he remains in control always turns me on in a way that never gets old.
Even now, with my body changing and our baby growing inside me, that power dynamic feels more electric than ever.
His hands move upward and brush my nipples. I gasp and my back arches into his chest. They’ve become so much larger, darker, and incredibly sensitive lately. The mere friction of his skin makes my toes curl.
"I can't wait to put the clamps on these again once this tenderness settles," he whispers against my neck. "But I can still give them a little attention."
He catches the peaks between his fingers before giving them a slight, agonisingly perfect pinch. A jolt of electricity shoots straight from my chest to my core. I feel a sudden, heavy wave of wetness between my thighs. My body is different now. The pregnancy hormones have made my desire more frequent. I’m constantly turned on, constantly craving him.
"Where do you want me to touch you, Professor?" he asks, sliding his hands down and tracing my inner thighs.
"My pussy, Master.” My head falls back against his shoulder.
“Not like that. Beg properly.”
"Please, Master... I'm so needy. Please touch your submissive. I need to feel you." I beg exactly the way he likes it.
Then only he begins rubbing me vigorously between my thighs, making my breath heavy as anticipation builds inside me.
Every nerve in my body feels alive.
And I can feel the press of his hardness against my backside.
I close my eyes, lost in the sensation. I still remember the first time he touched me in that empty classroom. Now, five years later, carrying his child, the feeling is the same, yet deeper. I feel more connected to him than ever. He isn't just the father of my child or my husband, he is the man who owns every pulse of my body, and I will never, ever get enough of him.