Bearing My Boss's Baby (An MPreg Romance) Page 7

  Claude looked good, though he didn't seem to notice it. Different than the last time Kevin had seen him naked, but there was something so compelling about having definite proof—right before his eyes—of the fact that Claude was carrying their child. Kevin knew—as well as he could know without involving himself even more than he had been in Claude's medical check-ups—that everything was going well, that Claude and the baby were both healthy. But watching Claude bloom in the sun made him feel the truth of that, deep in the pit of his stomach.

  It was a good feeling, much better than the intense amounts of sexual frustration that went along with it. Claude practically glowed in the sun, his pale skin shading faintly into the lightest golden tan as he lay there, basking. The line of his body was slim and long except for where he was swollen and heavy with the weight of their child. Their child. Was there a better set of words in the language?

  Or, if there was something better, it was something Kevin was never going to have. He'd have to be satisfied with the child that would bind them together. It was hard for Kevin not to push Claude too much in his delight at the idea of being a father. He needed to hold back, to express his overwhelming joy to other people. But when he was alone with Claude, watching the baby grow, it took all of Kevin's strength not to let his feelings burst out into the open, to ruin the fragile balance they'd built with displays of emotion that Claude clearly didn't want from him.

  Ditto for the number of boners he kept having to hide as Claude stretched out in the sun until he looked like a vision of sex. The noises he made were just as bad, and not helping Kevin at all. Had he ever thought he'd get work done on this trip? That had been a mistake. The only times he ever had a chance were when Claude took an afternoon nap, and even then, it always seemed so much more compelling to putter around the kitchen. Most of the food had been ordered from town and brought in with the cleaning staff in the morning, but there were usually things to grill, or salads to dress.

  Claude needed to eat so much more because of the baby; it just made sense for Kevin to make sure the food in the fridge was ready to tempt him into getting everything he needed. It was all worth it when Claude sat down at the table with an expression of delight, even if he did seem to think that everything other than what was freshly grilled had been provided by the catering. It didn't matter where the food was coming from, after all, so long as Claude was eating it.

  It wasn't only Claude that was keeping Kevin from working, of course. Just being here, with the sea in front of them, and the long clean stretch of the beach practically at their back door, was a constant reminder that Kevin had barely had a vacation since he'd started the company, and things had been even busier since the merger in Seattle—both on a business and on a personal level.

  No one back home was expecting him to work after all, or at least he'd told them not to, even if no one ever seemed all that surprised by his occasional emails. Maybe he could sit back and enjoy this very sexually frustrating time off.

  Chapter 17

  Claude

  The slip of beach that belonged to the house started almost at the foot of the deck, as the sand started to wash over the stone path between the tangle of tropical greenery that made the house feel almost entirely isolated. The spit of sand widened as it approached the water, the trees parting on either side, high heaps of rock curling out into the ocean at the edges. It wasn't huge, but it could have accommodated a far larger party than Kevin and Claude as the tidy piles of beach chairs placed by the remains of a firepit would suggest.

  As it was, the sound of the wind in the trees and the waves lapping gently at the sand were Claude's only companions as he let himself be lulled to sleep by their whispers, basking in the heat of the sun. And Kevin, of course. Kevin was always there. He was just quiet, sitting in his own beach chair, often tapping away on his phone. It was easy for Claude to forget he was there with the sound of the waves softly surrounding him as he drifted off for one of his many naps. He wasn't sure if it was the shape of the gently supportive chair or the sound of the water or the sheer soporific effect of so much sun, but he was sleeping better than he had in weeks.

  So many things in his body were changing, almost day to day. He could feel his hips move, feel his organs shift and contort around the baby inside him, every movement it made still a shock to his system. Probably that was why his bed in the penthouse felt so huge and wrong, so impossible to fall asleep in. At least he could catch up on his sleep here. It wasn't like Kevin was going to stop him.

  If only he could stop Kevin in return.

  It wasn't as though Kevin was a terrible companion. He seemed to have enough work to keep him busy while Claude alternately soaked up the sun and slept, and they chatted over meals as easily as if they were back home, overlooking the city from Kevin's penthouse view.

  But whenever Claude cracked an eye open from his lounge chair, Kevin always seemed to be right in his line of sight, his bronzed skin gleaming in the sun. It was bad enough when he was just lying in a chair, letting the sun warm every inch of his long, toned body, but he was something of a swimmer too, and Claude didn't know where to look every time he emerged from the water, rivulets outlining every sweep of muscle, his trunks clinging to his perfect ass, and the faint outline of a cock that Claude knew far too personally for comfort.

  It had only been a couple of days and Claude was already having the absolute filthiest dreams. How was he going to survive literal weeks staring Kevin in the eye and wondering exactly how today's nudity was going to feature in tonight's panoramic sexcapade?

  At least when he'd been violently ill all the time, he hadn't been thinking about sex constantly. To be sure, it had had its own problems, but right now, Claude was almost nostalgic for the simplicity of lying on a couch and drinking a lot of water instead of...whatever it was his hormones were doing to him now.

  The last time Claude had been to his doctor, she'd tried to tell him that his hormones might skyrocket his sex drive, but he'd brushed her off. She'd spent so much time leading up to the idea that it was totally fine if he wanted to have sex with his partner, and it definitely wouldn't hurt the baby, and Claude didn't have the patience for that. Not when he was totally failing to get laid by anyone at all, let alone his baby's father, who seemed to be the least interested person imaginable—even if he was the only one that Claude wanted.

  What she hadn't said was: try not to be around your baby's daddy when he's half-naked, if you don't want to start thinking about just how private this beach is and how he could probably fuck you right here and now.

  Claude might have actually paid attention to a nice specific warning like that, and avoided all of his current problems. Or at least the specific one he was having this moment: namely, how do you hide a half-chub on the beach when you're too damn pregnant to lie face down on anything?

  He fiddled nervously with the towel in his hand, trying to stare out at the calming ocean. Nothing sexy there. His boner could just go away any minute now.

  Kevin, with his usual impeccable timing, swam into Claude's view, rising from the water like a tanned pillar of muscle as he stood and started to make his way back up the beach.

  Claude's situation abruptly became much, much worse. Dropping the towel back on the lounger, he fled back into the house as smoothly and casually as he could between the baby lying heavy in his belly and the boner pressing vigorously against the inside of his swim trunks. The air conditioning hit his face with the kind of cold kiss that meant he was definitely beet red, and he dashed into his bedroom, feet skidding over the wood floors.

  Alone in his bedroom, Claude could still feel the pounding of heat in his blood, his mind overwhelmed by images of the sweep of Kevin's shoulders, the strong lines of his thighs. It all unfolded like a picture in front of him, exactly how it would look if Kevin had walked right up to his lounge chair and bent over him, the detail of stubble on Kevin's jaw as he leaned in for a kiss. A good kiss too, the kind of deep, hungry kiss that Claude remembered fr
om their night together. The kind that was filled with teeth and tongue and left him breathless and rock hard.

  Fuck, he was rock hard now, and that was only from the memory of one stupid night and a glimpse of sleekly tanned skin.

  He wasn't sure if Kevin could still pick him up as easily now, or if he'd enjoy it as much with the baby between them, but fuck it, this was his fantasy. In his fantasy, he hadn't run away from the beach: Kevin had picked him up out of the beach chair like he weighed nothing, and carried him into the house, Claude's arms around his neck, Claude's hands running over the thick muscle of his shoulders. He hadn't kicked off his swim trunks into the hamper: Kevin had ripped them off him in the throes of passion as they'd rushed to the bedroom and...then what?

  Kevin's mouth? His hand? Claude squeezed his own dick tighter, his back arching off the bed. Fuck it, he didn't care at this point. He'd take any kind of friction at this point, especially if it came from somewhere other than his own hand.

  This angle was so fucking awkward. It was like he needed to figure out jerking off again every week as the baby grew and grew and his body changed with it. But fixing the angle was way too much work now, when Claude was already panting and desperate, his heels skidding across the silky sheets as he thrust up into his hand. He needed to be quiet—who knew when Kevin might decide to come back in the house?—but it was so hard when he was this close to coming. His hand twisted across the head of his dick, feeling the wetness there spread across the hot flesh. It was good—enough to push him over the edge—but not quite enough. Not what he really needed.

  He'd have begged, if there had been anyone there to beg from. But there wasn't. Just him and his hand and a feeling of dissatisfaction as he came with a jerk, curling in on himself in the middle of the wide bed. Endorphins tingled through him, warming his limbs and making his head feel a little floaty, but nothing seemed to crack the cold lump in the middle of his chest.

  Chapter 18

  Kevin

  It wasn't even a loud noise that made Kevin finally look up from his tablet. At first he'd assumed that the faint sound was the hum of the air-conditioning. But then the fan shut off and in the quiet, the faint groan—or maybe it was a creak—kept going. It was coming from the bedrooms. He stood up, taking two steps towards the hall door, his head cocked to listen. The sound grew louder. It was more obviously human now, and something cold grasped at Kevin's throat and squeezed hard.

  He sped up, his strides lengthening as his fear grew. The cries were definitely coming from the direction of Claude's room, and there was no one in the house besides the two of them. Possibilities swirled through Kevin's mind, each worse than the last, and he slammed open Claude's bedroom door with his heart pounding.

  The sight before him hadn't figured in any of Kevin's worrying. He stopped stock-still in the doorway, staring directly into Claude's face. Claude lay on the bed, his body frozen mid-arch, mid-strain, his hand wrapped around his cock, golden against the redness of his length.

  Kevin opened his mouth, found himself unable to make a sound and closed it again.

  Claude stared at him, eyes open wide, his lips parted as though he'd been halfway through a cry of pleasure when Kevin had interrupted him.

  "Um," Kevin said. His hand, still frozen on the door handle, shook, the rattle of the handle loud in the silence of the room. "I was—" He cut himself off, unable to go any further, to process anything other than the view in front of him. Seeing Claude stretched out sunbathing on the beach was nothing to this, and Kevin's eyes didn't seem to be able to move away.

  "Either join in, or get out," Claude said, his voice low and husky with sex. His hand moved fractionally on his dick, as though he was unable to help himself, too close to climax to care about Kevin's presence in the room.

  Kevin heard the door shut behind him, his feet carrying him across the floor to the edge of the bed without any conscious thought becoming involved. Claude's eyes widened as though this wasn't the answer he'd expected to his taunt, but he reached up, clutching Kevin's shirt with his free hand and dragging him down into a kiss that seemed to sear Kevin all the way down to his bones. Their mouths moved sloppy and fast, wet tongues licking at sharp teeth, their chests heaving in unison as they gasped for breath. Kevin's hand rose to cup Claude's cheek as he leaned over the form on the bed, tilting his face for better access to the tender line of his jaw and the soft noises he made as Kevin pressed kisses to the sensitive skin there.

  Claude groaned as Kevin kissed him, his back arching up off the mattress. His hand was still wrapped around his cock, moving faster now, jerky and restless as his kisses.

  "Let me," Kevin murmured, low voice breathing against Claude's skin, his hand sliding down Claude's arm. Claude groaned again, his head tipping back against the pillows as he dropped his grip, his hands fisting desperately into the tangled sheet beneath him. To slide between his legs took a long moment, plenty of time for Kevin to revel in the view before him. Under the tropical sun, without the haze of alcohol or sleep before his eyes, Claude was perfect, every curve and plane of him like an invitation for Kevin's hungry mouth, his cock jutting up red and demanding against the swell of his pregnant belly.

  Claude looked too desperate to suffer the kind of long, slow adoration that Kevin wanted to give him. Even without Kevin's touch, he was already moving against the sheets, his whimpers high and quiet as his dick bobbed against the air like it was trying to find something to fuck. He practically purred when Kevin slid a hand along his thigh, spreading them even further apart, and bent with no warning to suck the head of Claude's dick into his mouth.

  The noise Claude made was music to Kevin's ears, his hips thrusting up, shoving his dick deeper into Kevin's mouth, salty-sweet and heavy on his tongue. Kevin swallowed once, then again, drawing him deeper, feeling the blunt head of Claude's cock hit his palate. Underneath the soft pressure of his hands, Claude's thighs were trembling, every muscle tight. The mattress bounced and dipped as Claude shifted, thrusting into Kevin's mouth and pulling away, his voice rising and falling in the background as they moved together.

  Kevin hollowed his cheeks, tongue curling around the underside of Claude's shaft, breathing along with the rhythm of their bodies. Claude was getting closer by the second, it was in every tight and straining line of his body, every weak sound that pushed past those soft lips. The knowledge felt dizzying, a slice of paradise that Kevin could never have predicted when he woke up this morning. It seemed so unbelievable that Claude was here, naked under his hands, hard in his mouth, and pushing—no, demanding—more and more.

  With a final cry, Claude doubled up under Kevin's hands, pushing himself off the bed and further into Kevin's mouth as he came. Kevin swallowed again and again, feeling Claude shake with every suck. He only stopped when Claude dragged him up the bed by his hair, rising to meet him for another devouring kiss.

  "Fuck me," Claude whispered against his lips as they separated to gasp for air, his hands still clutched tight against Kevin's shirt

  "What?" Kevin mumbled back, unsure if he'd heard right, or if Claude meant it literally.

  Claude glared at him for a moment before pushing himself up to a sitting position and reaching down to cup the erection that Kevin had hardly noticed in his state of confusion. "Fuck me." His hips jerked upward again, his glance sliding away for a moment as if embarrassed, and he said, "Hormones. You know."

  So that was how it was. At least it made sense of Kevin's confusion, and it wasn't as though Kevin wouldn't have done far more for Claude's comfort than to satisfy a few pregnancy cravings, even if they were for his dick.

  He thought he'd done the reading on this kind of thing, but the books didn't seem to go far enough. By the time Kevin had found the lube and was sliding slick fingers into Claude's tight hole, Claude was nearly hard again, his cock still wet with Kevin's spit and his own come.

  Kevin's neglected dick throbbed as he felt Claude tighten around his fingers, a squeeze accompanied by one of the hottest noise
s Kevin had ever heard in his life. He thrust in faster, curling his fingers until he heard Claude cry out, Claude's thighs squeezing in against Kevin's shoulders. Kevin wanted nothing more than to kiss Claude right now, to feel the vibrations of that sound stop against his lips, devoured by his hunger, but the angle was too awkward like this, Claude's belly between them, a barrier that Kevin was still afraid he might damage.

  Claude's ass was slick now, Kevin's fingers sliding easily in and out. He freed his dick, ready to line himself up and push in, but stopped at the last second, peering down at Claude's face. "Is this okay? Can I do it like this or...?" He trailed off, unable to offer an alternative, but still uncertain what would and would not hurt their child.

  "Yes, fuck!" Claude groaned, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Just fucking get in me already." He pressed down against Kevin's hand, eager and demanding. Kevin's dick throbbed, spitting precum as it twitched against his belly.

  "Anything," Kevin murmured, and then he was pushing in, his hands holding Claude's thighs spread wide, feeling Claude's tightness surround him until his dick was fully sheathed.

  "Oh my god," Claude groaned, tearing at the sheet beneath him with the force of his grip, his chest rising raggedly.

  He felt amazing, perfect, everything Kevin had ever dreamed of, wanted, or could have imagined. He bit his lip, thrusting harder, trying to keep his thoughts to himself. Claude wanted to ride out the pregnancy horniness, not to deal with Kevin's overwhelming emotions. At least Claude's eyes were shut as they rocked together, because Kevin suspected the look on his face said too much, far more than he wanted to admit aloud.

  It was all too much: too much sensation, too many feelings. Kevin tried to temper his thrusts, to be careful with Claude, but Claude was pushing back against him with every thrust, demanding more, his hard dick trapped between the two of them. When he came, untouched, spurting over both of them, it was more than Kevin could take, the contractions of the muscles around his dick squeezing him until he came, leaning forward hard, his breathing shallow.