The texts start at midnight.
One word.
My name.
Then a location.
A time.
No explanations.
No apologies.
Just Marcus.
Hungry.
Insistent.
I stop pretending I don’t crave it.
I stop pretending I don’t need it.
The game is over.
He wants me.
I’m his.
My phone buzzes again.
Truck.
Hardware lot.
Ten minutes.
I grab my keys.
Slip out the back door.
Cool air hits my skin.
My heart hammers.
Not from fear.
From want.
Desperate.
Relentless.
His Silverado sits in the shadows.
Engine purring.
I slide into the passenger seat.
The door clicks shut.
The world disappears.
His hands are on me before I can catch my breath.
Fingers under my skirt.
Up my thighs.
Straight to the damp heat between my legs.
“You’re already wet for me,” he growls.
“Everywhere you go. Thinking about my cock.”
I nod.
I can’t speak.
My chest is tight.
My pussy is throbbing.
He doesn’t wait.
He shoves my skirt up.
Bites my neck.
Marks me.
“Mine,” he snarls.
“All mine.”
His belt buckle rings.
The sound of his zipper.
He lines up.
Pushes in.
One hard thrust.
I gasp.
He fills me.
Deep.
Relentless.
“Say it,” he demands.
“Say you’re breeding for me.”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“I’m yours.”
He fucks me hard.
Fast.
Desperate.
Every snap of his hips drives me closer.
The leather creaks.
My nails dig into his shoulders.
He groans.
“Gonna fill you,” he grits out.
“Gonna pump you full.”
I arch.
“Yes.”
He bottoms out.
Hot cum floods my pussy.
I tremble.
He holds me there.
Breathing hard.
“You take it so fucking well,” he murmurs.
“So perfectly.”
I slide against his chest.
Panting.
Shaking.
He kisses my temple.
“Again,” he whispers.
“When I say.”
I nod.
Because I would.
I’d take him anywhere.
Anywhere he wants me.
Three days later.
He texts again.
Garage.
Midnight.
I wear the black dress.
The one he likes.
The one that hugs my hips.
The one that makes my skin flush when his eyes drag over it.
The garage door is down.
Dim light spills from the workbench.
He’s already there.
Waiting.
Like a wolf guarding his den.
I don’t even get to set my keys down.
He grabs my waist.
Hauls me against the concrete wall.
My back hits the cold surface.
His mouth crashes onto mine.
Tongue deep.
Claiming.
He strips me fast.
Skirt bunched at my waist.
Panties peeled down.
I step out of them.
He doesn’t hesitate.
His cock is thick.
Hard.
Begging.
He lines up.
Slides in.
I gasp.
He’s so deep.
Stretched.
Perfect.
“You’re growing to love this,” he says.
“My cock in your pussy.”
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m wet,” I admit.
He grins.
Dark.
Possessive.
“Good girl.”
He sets a rhythm.
Hard.
Steady.
Each thrust hits that sweet spot.
My clit brushes against him.
I’m so close.
“Don’t you dare come,” he orders.
“Not until I say.”
I bite my lip.
Nod.
He speeds up.
Grabs my hip.
Fingers digging into my skin.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I do.
His eyes are black.
Full of fire.
“Listen to me,” he says.
“I’m done playing.”
“Done watching you across a room.”
“Done pretending I don’t want to drag you to my bed and keep you there forever.”
My chest tightens.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m leaving the group,” he says.
“Cutting ties.
I don’t need their approval.
I don’t need their tables.
I just need you.”
My breath catches.
“Marcus…”
“I’m taking you,” he finishes.
“Away from here.
Where no one touches you.
Where only I get to look at you.
Where you carry my baby.”
The words hit like a shockwave.
My knees buckle.
He catches me.
Holds me tight.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He growls.
The sound vibrates through me.
He bottoms out.
Hammers into me.
“Then take it,” he snarls.
“Take every drop.”
I shatter.
Wave after wave crashes through me.
He groans.
Drives deep.
Holds me there.
“Cumming,” he grits out.
“Filling you.”
Hot cum pumps into me.
Again.
Again.
I cling to him.
Sobbing.
Laughing.
Overwhelmed.
He stays inside.
Kissing my forehead.
“Mine,” he whispers.
“Always mine.”
We don’t rush.
He cleans me up.
Careful.
Tender.
The alpha melts away.
The man remains.
Hands on my waist.
Eyes soft.
“You scared me,” he admits.
“At the BBQ.
Watching you laugh with them.
Thinking I’d lose you.”
I touch his face.
“I was yours then.”
He kisses my palm.
“Prove it.”
“I will.”
He smiles.
Real.
Warm.
He pulls me into his arms.
We stay like that.
Breathing.
Existing.
The secret is out.
Between us.
A promise.
A vow.
He checks his phone.
Frowns.
“I called the lawyer,” he says.
“Moving the paperwork up.
Property transfer.
New place.
Somewhere private.
Somewhere you’re safe.”
I lean into his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.”
He squeezes me.
“Good.”
“Because I’m not letting you go.”
That night.
His master bedroom.
No more hiding.
Just us.
Moonlight spills through the blinds.
He strips me slowly.
Reverent.
Like I’m something sacred.
I let him.
I want to see him.
All of him.
He pushes my nightgown up.
Kneels between my thighs.
Lips on my pussy.
I gasp.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“I’ve been dying to taste you.”
His tongue drags slow.
Then fast.
Circling.
Flicking.
I arch.
Hands in his hair.
“Marcus,” I whimper.
He hums against me.
Vibrates through my core.
I’m so close.
He pulls back.
Looks up.
Eyes dark.
“You’re going to take my baby,” he says.
“You’re going to carry it.
Let it grow.
Let me feel it kick.”
I nod.
Tears prick.
“I want it.”
He climbs over me.
Kisses me.
Deep.
Slow.
Then he pushes in.
Slowly.
So slowly.
I gasp.
He’s so thick.
Stretches me wide.
“Breathe,” he murmurs.
“Let me in.”
I do.
He bottoms out.
Groans.
Rests his forehead against mine.
“Perfect,” he breathes.
“So fucking perfect.”
He starts moving.
Slow at first.
Then deeper.
Harder.
Each thrust hits my womb.
I can feel him.
Inside me.
Claiming me.
Building something.
“Gonna make you mine,” he says.
“In every way that matters.”
I wrap my legs around him.
Pull him closer.
“Yes.”
He picks up the pace.
Rhythm takes over.
Skin slaps skin.
Breath mixes.
I’m trembling.
Clenching around him.
“Come for me,” he orders.
“Let go.”
I shatter.
Scream his name.
He groans.
Drives deep.
Holds tight.
“Cumming,” he grits out.
“Deep inside.”
Hot cum floods my pussy.
Again.
Again.
I feel it.
Every drop.
Every pulse.
He stays buried.
Kissing my neck.
My jaw.
My lips.
“Mine,” he whispers.
“Forever mine.”
Weeks pass.
The moves happen.
The lawyer signs.
The keys are mine.
His hands on mine.
We’re together.
Fully.
Completely.
One morning.
I stand in the kitchen.
Coffee in hand.
Nausea hits like a freight train.
I drop the mug.
It shatters.
He’s at my side in a second.
Arms around me.
“Talk to me,” he says.
I shake my head.
“I don’t know.”
He frowns.
Grabs my hand.
Pulls me to the car.
The clinic is quiet.
White walls.
Quiet hum.
The doctor smiles.
“Congratulations,” she says.
“You’re pregnant.”
My breath catches.
Marcus goes still.
Then his hand is on my stomach.
Gentle.
Reverent.
“Is it true?” he asks.
I nod.
Tears spill.
He pulls me to his chest.
Holds me tight.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he says.
Voice cracking.
“You’re going to be a mother.”
I wrap my arms around him.
“We’re a family,” I correct.
He kisses the top of my head.
“Yeah,” he breathes.
“Yeah, we are.”
He lifts me up.
Spins me once.
Laughs.
Real.
Unburdened.
“No more secrets,” he says.
“No more hiding.”
I rest my cheek against his chest.
Feel his heartbeat.
“Never again,” I promise.
He looks down at me.
Eyes dark.
Warm.
Certain.
“Good,” he says.
“Because I’m never letting you go.”
My hand rests on my stomach.
Small.
New.
Growing.
His hand covers mine.
Together.
We stand there.
Breathing.
Existing.
Forever.
He claimed me.
He filled me.
He kept me.
And now?
We’re going to be parents.
Together.
Finally.
Completely.
Perfectly.