pressing against my thigh and I pause stroking Jack to wonder if Troy’s awake or if his subconscious is cuddling with me.
I feel his right hand take possessive hold of my hip, and smile, having my answer.
Firm fingers glide over the bend in my body as he kisses my hair. I arch to tell him I want him, lift one leg while lying on my side. Troy’s deep exhale at my invitation is pure need.
He touches my naked pussy, separating and stroking me while I stay very, very quiet and continue to caress Jack’s unconscious hard-on.
Troy’s smooth, bulbous tip pushes against my pussy, sending tingles of anticipation everywhere. My eyelashes flutter, breath hitching as he circles my clit with the head of his cock. I bite back a moan, stop breathing altogether as he slides in, inch by long inch.
I stay very still as he fucks me from behind, playing like I’m sleeping, for my own personal fantasy. I pretend I’m passed out, raided by a Viking who chose me to be his rebellious bride because I talked back to him. And he liked it.
Somehow in this fantasy I found an extra cock to wrap my hand around while I lie here, in the process.
Okay, so two Vikings.
Mmmmmm…
Yes, that’s better.
Troy’s groin goes flush with my ass. He’s deep inside me, chest molded to my back. So warm. He nibbles my shoulder, sliding in and out with slow full strokes.
Our sleeping King opens his eyes and lazily locks onto me.
“Morning, gorgeous. Having fun?”
I give his cock a squeeze and smile. “Morning.”
“Been awake long?”
I shiver with pleasure. “Few minutes.”
Troy groans, “Fuck,” as he builds to an orgasm that won’t wait much longer. His early erections aren’t patient.
Jack leans to reach me, our lips pressing together in a closed-mouthed kiss since we both like to brush our teeth first and haven’t yet had the chance. His hand wraps over mine, guiding my stroke.
Behind me, Troy snarls, giving over to his primal side. Each thrust feels like heaven as he fucks me faster, and I flex my pussy to send him flying into his abyss. Strong fingers grip my hip as he stiffens, the release beginning. His teeth latch onto my shoulder as his climax breaks free.
Jack groans, his cock hardening to perfection. We lock eyes, mine hooded with lust as he says, “Climb on top of me, Gorgeous.”
Troy pulls out and I do as I’m told.
Lucky.
Lucky.
Lucky.
Me.
Greedy.
Greedy.
Bitch that I am.
We have our fun, and I cum two times, partly from the sight of Jack under me, his head in the pillow, his sexy grimaces as we fuck reminding me how long I wanted him.
And now he’s mine.
Fucking turn on.
I’m washing up after, shower cascading down my oh-so-satisfied body, and a question springs to mind.
When exactly was my last period?!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
TROY
“Why was it so fucking hard to find a pregnancy test?!” I grumble, salty air shoved into my nostrils as I inhale frustration. “Feels like it’s been two days instead of two hours since she said she was late!”
Jack stands opposite me in the archway overlooking our private terrace. His arms are crossed, back against the wall. In more ways than one. “Because at this particular hotel they don’t want to think about pregnancy. Gets in the way of the fun.”
“Do you want a kid?”
His gaze is steady. “Do you?”
“Had crossed my mind, yeah.”
Sucking on his teeth, his eyes drift to the sea. “It hadn’t crossed mine. What kind of father would I be?”
The ‘I’ in that sentence lands. This has always been a ‘we’ thing since the three of us committed. But now I realize something for the first time — we can’t both have fathered this child…if there even is one. It’s a dumb omission my brain hadn’t considered until now.
What kind of father would he be?
He thinks it’s his.
If she’s pregnant.
I can see it in his eyes.
“You ever want to be a dad, Jack?”
“I’m not the type who settles down, you know that. Before Marion, I had my life mapped out as one solitary journey of my own making without hinderances.”
“You like kids?”
“Yeah.”
“You do?”
“Sure, but…”
When he doesn’t finish the sentence I prod him, “What?”
Staring off he says, “Never thought I deserved the privilege.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, Troy.” He looks at me, eyes narrowing. “Sometimes I don’t think I’m a very good guy. Not a great role model. Too dark.”
“You’re my role model.”
“You’re already a man. How do I raise a boy? What about a girl? I’m made of stone.”
“Don’t