Chapter 252 254

Chapter 252 254
“I’m nowhere near as much of a tease as you are,” he snarls in my ear. He doesn’t pull out, not yet, only rolls his hips to work himself inside me deeper. “Making me want to fuck you in this dress since you got in the car.”

“Why didn’t you?” I gasp. My toes are curling and already I’m losing my grasp on sanity, but I can’t stop myself from poking that proverbial bear.

Demyen sucks my bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly pulls himself from me.

“Naughty.”

Thrust.

“Sexy.”

Thrust.

“Wicked.”

Thrust.

“Fiancée.”

The fact that we’re not naked drives me more insane with want and need than if we were. My nipples tighten and strain against the silk bodice and he takes that as his cue to suckle one, then the other, while working his thick cock deeper and deeper inside me.

“I’ll fuck you anywhere and everywhere you want,” he promises me. “I’ll make love to you, my incredible woman, wherever you desire.”

His hands rub down my body to grab my ass, lift me higher, pull me onto him.

I can’t think.

I can’t speak.

I can only feel.

Even then, all I can feel is the building tension deep inside where he keeps rubbing and stroking and massaging me with every solid thrust. That, and the tingling sensation in my hands and feet that tells me I’m not going to stay anchored to the bed when he makes me come.

And oh, he doesn’t just make me come.

He makes me scream.

He makes me buck.

He makes me sob his name over and over until it’s a mantra on my lips and a plea for more.

Because even then, I still want more. I’ll always want more.

More ripping. More tearing. And then I’m warm and naked and rolled onto my stomach, arms outstretched to claw the rose petals he’s fucking me on.

Demyen holds my hips as he drives into me exactly how I want. Exactly how I need. He works us up to the point where all I can do is grunt every time I feel him bottom out inside me, over and over and over again.

I love it.

I love him.

I make sure to repeat that over and over again as I shatter once more, this time in tandem with his own powerful release.

He’s filling me. Pouring himself into me.

I love Demyen Zakrevsky.

Demyen loves me.

That’s the very definition of Jackpot.

I don’t know what time it is. It’s dark, even in the casino.

We’re all but tapped out. The windows overlooking Demyen’s empire are smeared with handprints and ass prints and all other sorts of prints because once we started, we couldn’t stop.

Even in the shower, when we laughed and promised each other we would only get cleaned up, I still slid to my knees to, as Demyen accurately described it afterward, “suck his soul through his dick.”

I smile. I haven’t stopped smiling since the morning after everything at the depot.

Since I woke up with Willow in my arms, Princess snuggled along my legs, and Demyen stroking my hair from my face.

He does it even now, half awake and wholly sated. “Can’t sleep?” he mumbles.

I rub my face in his bare chest and breathe him in. I’ll never get tired of this, of him, of us. “I don’t want to sleep. I just want you.”

Demyen chuckles. “You’ve got me, baby. All of me. For all eternity, you crazy lady.”

“You’re the crazy one,” I snort. “What are you thinking, marrying me? I have more baggage than a jumbo jet.”

He playfully pokes my side. “We have a matching set.”

I snuggle deeper into his warmth with a happy, satisfied sigh. He rubs my back, trailing his fingertips along my spine.

“So… when do you want to get married?”

I think about it for a moment; a few calculations have to run through my brain before I have an answer. “Could we do it in a month?”

Demyen wheezes. “A month?”

I lift my head with a frown. “Is that okay? Do you not want⁠—”

“Baby.” He sits up and quickly pulls me onto his lap so I have nowhere to go or look but him. “Baby. I want to marry you right the fuck now. But I also want you to have your dream wedding. Don’t you want the fancy gown and reception and… I don’t know. All that wedding shit?”

“I do. Kind of.” I rub a hand over his chest and take a moment to admire just how fucking hot he is. “But I also want to be able to fit into my dress. And enjoy walking down the aisle. You know, before I balloon up.”

He snorts a laugh and rubs my sides. “What, are you pregnant?”

I smile at him.

He blinks at me.

My smile widens.

“No.”

I nod. Once. Slowly.

“No.” Demyen looks down at my stomach. It’s very slight, but it’s there. The baby bump he’s been assuming to be just me getting my health back. “No. No… no, no, no…”

My stomach twists into a knot. “Are you… are you not happy?”

He whips his gaze up to mine. “No! I mean, yes! I’m… I’m fucking thrilled!” He laughs, but it sounds choked. “I’m just… shit. Fuck. Baby. Tell me you just found out. You’re only, what, a week or two along?”

My face heats. His desperation to avoid the reality is actually pretty endearing. I stare down at our laps, though, because I don’t know how bad he’s about to spiral. “I, ah…I’m starting the second trimester.”

Demyen wheezes.

Then he rolls me onto my back, quickly pinning me down under his panicking weight.

I burst into a fit of giggles as he flutters kisses down my body to that sweet little swell, where he stops and nuzzles it for a long, quiet moment.

“You’re gonna have to help me here, little one,” he mutters against my skin. “Your mother is fucking insane.”

“Demyen! Language!” I laugh and smack him lightly with a pillow.

“You.” He stares up at me, eyes wild and crazy and filled with so much love and awe. “You were pregnant. Through… through all of it?”

I slowly nod again. “I realized it during the auction. A little before, actually.”

“Before?”

“You didn’t exactly give me room to formally announce it.”

He thumps his forehead against my swell. Over and over. “I’m a goner,” he groans to our little baby through my skin. “She’s gonna have me by my balls for the rest of my life.”

“Hey!” I laugh. “You happen to like when I have you by your balls.”

A bright, brilliant grin spreads across his face. “Yeah. I do.” He looks at my swell again. “Which is exactly how you came to be⁠—”

“Dem!”

He grins even wider and I swear it nearly splits his face. “Goddammit, Clara. I fucking love you. And you,” he adds with a quick kiss to my stomach. “And your big sister.” He looks up at me in sudden alarm. “Does Willow know? Does anyone else know?”

I spend the rest of the night explaining to him how he’s the first I’ve officially told, but probably the last to figure it out. And then I rub his shoulders and massage his back with my breasts while he chugs straight from the bottle and we laugh, we cry, we hold each other as we celebrate this wild new adventure we’re about to embark on.

Together.