Winning Her Curves: An Instalove Possesive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 139) by Flora Ferrari

Author:Flora Ferrari [Ferrari, Flora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-20T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Georgia

I feel different already, wondering if someone can get pregnant straight away. Maybe not, but who knows? It sure felt like Vincent got up there far enough, Jesus! I’m proud I could take all of him the first time.

Should I tell him it was my first time, or let him guess?

I watch him get up, torn between watching his eyes or his cock, or his ass as he saunters off. I must look like I’m having a fucking seizure, my eyes all over place every time I see him naked, or even half naked.

I absently struggle to cover myself though, something Vincent’s quick to pick up on.

“You don’t have like a throw or something?” I ask feebly.

“No.” he says sternly, lifting one of my legs like it’s a chicken bone, just long enough to drink in a view of my money shot before letting it back down.

“I want to see every bit of you, Angel cake. I want you to sit there, in my juices a while longer, until I’m satisfied you’ve soaked up all those little Vincent’s.”

“Aren’t you taking the whole baby thing a bit too seriously?” I ask, “I mean…” but the look on his face is so intense, I can’t fault it. He’s a man on a mission, thriving on the notion; the prospects of his recent emission.

Vincent Chambers wants a baby, and he’s damn well gonna have one.

“Fuckin’ A” he says, reading my thoughts, pecking my cheek and then checking his gleaming gold Rolex.

“I think we should try again in about… oh, how ‘bout right now,” he smirks, and pulls me close to him again, his proud, stiff heat pressing into my belly, as if he never went soft.

The phone from the next room over rings shocking us both into an awkward stillness. Part of me wants to tell him not to get it, but I know he has to. I wanted us to just hang out, to get to know each other some more, without the dreadful truth having to come crashing down on us again.

He presses a finger to my lips and leaves to answer the phone. He comes back into view, so he can look at me while he’s talking. He makes an insane movement with his hand, ordering me to keep my legs up, which makes me laugh, even though part of me still wants to cry.

The part about dad.

I watch as his body flexes as he breathes. His abs contracting with each intake of air, his neck like ribbons of muscle as he moves his huge arm slightly. His whole shape, his manhood, it’s like poetry in motion and I resign myself to the damp fact that I could actually look at him all day long.

It sounds like he’s talking to Briggs again, but there’s no mention of my dad. Vincent’s voice goes low and he murmurs something I can’t hear. But dammit, if the man’s cock hasn’t missed a beat and is still pounding out an upbeat tempo with

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