Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 (112 page)

Read Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 Online

Authors: Trent Evans

Tags: #BDSM erotic romance

BOOK: Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1
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“Good girl.” He kissed her on the cheek, her face heating, knowing that people were probably already watching them.

“Remember, if your belly gets in the way as you bend, do the best you can. Do not do anything that will endanger either you or the baby. I won’t be close, but I’ll be watching you. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She turned to him, looking up into those dark eyes, knowing she’d not find any mercy there, knowing she’d see only the relentlessness that she craved, embarrassment or not. “Do you — do you have to watch?”

“Oh yes, girlie. I do. That’s the entire point.” He lifted her chin on a finger. “You’re going to love this. And if you don’t? I guarantee I will.”

His hand patted her bottom. “Now get going.”

* * *

 

I
t was possibly one of the hottest things Keihl had ever seen. Regular Kirsten, even without being pregnant, turned heads — even if she never noticed it. It happened to be one of her most endearing qualities.

But as she walked tentatively down that aisle, no doubt wishing the wire mesh of her cart shielded much more of her than it did, he’d never see her look sexier. The swell of her hips, accentuated by the snug leggings drew the eye of any male she passed. Some tried to hide it of course, but they all stared. Keihl stayed at least twenty feet back, far enough away that nobody mistook him for being with her, yet close enough to witness all of it.

You know you’re a bastard for enjoying this.

He didn’t give a fuck anymore. All he cared about, all his world revolved around, was the beautiful, blushing, lip nibbling pregnant beauty of Kirsten. And he intended to enjoy it in all its wonder, profound and intimate.

She turned down the bread aisle, and just as she’d been instructed, she looked directly at the box boy who’d stopped to ask her if she was finding everything fine.

Judging by his dinner plate eyes,
he
certainly found everything fine.

The way Kirsten looked away as she waved him off, her cheeks beet red, had Keihl beaming. He was extremely glad he’d worn jeans for this little foray — his cock was already hard, screaming for release from behind his zipper.

He followed her down several other aisles, this time noting the reaction from the women she passed. Some pretended not to notice the provocatively dressed woman, the way her swollen breasts moved without a brassiere, the way her belly drew the eye as if it had its own magnetism. Other women simply smiled at her, while a few scowled disapprovingly as she passed them. One even stared, going so far as to turn and watch Kirsten as she continued down the aisle.

Probably watching the movement of that same round bottom Keihl couldn’t keep his own eyes off of.

Kirsten finally stopped, looking down at one of the shelves. She tapped a nail against her front teeth, looked either direction down the aisle — Keihl stepped from around the end cap to make sure she saw him. She blushed as soon as she laid eyes on him, then took a deep breath, those luscious breasts rising and falling in the clutch of that soft, gray cotton.

Oh you good girl.

Turning her back to him, she bent double, the wide beam of her bottom thrust up and back as she counterbalanced the weight of her belly. He had to stop himself from striding over to her, laying a possessive hand across one of those cheeks, squeeze it hard, show everyone there whom she belonged to.

As long as she knew whom she belonged to though, that was all that mattered to Keihl.

The top pulled up just a little as she bent further, revealing a momentary glimpse of pale belly as she snatched a package of pasta from the shelf, quickly yanking the shirt back down as she righted herself.

Keihl wondered what the loss prevention boys upstairs were likely thinking as they watched this go on aisle after aisle. He trusted they’d seen them enter the store together, so there was unlikely to be an issue. But you never knew.

No guts, no glory.

He couldn’t hold out forever though, and finally approached her as she got to the meat section, stepping close as she leaned over one of the coolers that held the chicken cuts.

“You should’ve seen the women.” He said in a low voice, standing right next to her so that their hips just touched. “I expected the males to ogle you. And they did. I don’t think that box boy heard a thing you said to him. He was staring at those big tits of yours the entire time. I’ll bet he’s out back now, walking around in a fog, imagining what it would be like to take those tits in his hands, squeeze them around his cock—”

“Keihl,
please
… I’m gross.” Her face had flushed scarlet, but he wasn’t done.

“You don’t understand how beautiful you look. How the men look upon you as you walk by, wishing they were the man who’d made such a gorgeous woman swell with their child. The women either stared daggers at you — or they wanted you. I’m still not sure which.”

“Jesus, Keihl. They did not.”

“I watched one of them actually lick her lips.” He gently kissed the back of her head, pinning her thighs against the cooler, making her gasp. “Stay right there, just for a minute, girl.”

He loved the way her chest heaved as she obeyed, stuck in place like a deer in the headlights. He stayed close to her without being too close, just the presence of his body behind her keeping her rooted in place.

“I’m glad I nixed that horrible padded bra you insist on wearing, girl.”

He stepped around her then, leaning his ass against the cold metal of the cooler, meeting her gaze before pointedly dropping his. She followed it, gasping as she took in the hard, prominent points of her nipples under the sheer gray top. Her arm came up instinctively.

“Ah ah ah. Don’t even think about it. We talked about that, remember?”

She swallowed hard, then put her arm down, bright color suffusing her cheeks, her eyes liquid, the pupils dilated, lust, distress, mortification, and excitement swirling in their beautiful depths.

Before he left her, he leaned close again, whispering so only she could hear it, her body ramrod straight, her breath held as if hanging on his every word.

“You’re so embarrassed, aren’t you, bad girl? But you don’t need to be. You’re the most beautiful thing in this place, I assure you. Men will stroke their cocks tonight, their come shooting into the air in tribute to the sweep of those hips, the gorgeous swell of that belly, wishing they could twine a fist in that thick hair of yours.” His fingers whispered over her cheek, the heat he felt in her skin only stirring the animal in him that much more. “Those women who stared after you enviously. Some of them will go home tonight, and think of your beauty as their husbands thrust away between their thighs, they’ll come to the image of themselves in the same state, hoping they’d look even half as stunning as that pregnant woman they spotted at the store today.”

Her breasts, the nipples still hard as rock, rose and fell rapidly, her gaze locked with his, her mouth open slightly as if the words she would speak somehow failed to convey what she really felt, really knew deep inside. The truth of Keihl’s lust, the dark, twisted pleasure of what he’d made her endure.

Then Keihl gave her soft bottom a little slap, and he pushed himself away from the cooler.

“See you up front, bad girl.”

He took his time strolling up to the check stands, grinning his triumph the entire way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty Four

 

“N
ow, we’ve gone over this, haven’t we? Are you ready for your rubdown?”

The term made her think of a thoroughbred horse. Perhaps that was why he chose it?

Keihl stood before her, his hands on his hips, the deep blue of his warm-ups filling her field of vision as she knelt on the living room carpet.

“I could do it myself, you know.” She peered up at him with a wry smile. “I’m pregnant, not helpless.”

“Sir.”

“Sorry.
Sir.

She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. The playful mood she was in was going to get her ass in a sling.

With luck.

Kneeling naked before her husband was erotic in any situation, yet somehow, with her swollen, bulging belly, she felt that much more naked, vulnerable.

Her legs were neatly folded beneath her, and she was sure her pussy was dripping moisture onto her calves. He’d cuffed her arms behind her back before ordering her to her knees — he’d taken the day off, and he’d kept her naked since she woke up that morning. It was a feeling unlike any she’d ever experienced before, a primal, forbidden freedom that made her nervous and aroused in equal measure.

Just the way she knew he liked her.

“Keep it up, and you’re getting a spanking before your rubdown, bad girl.”

She softened her voice. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

A spanking might not be a bad thing though — at least it would lessen some of the tension in her muscles.

Kneeling with your arms bound behind you doesn’t exactly help with that either, Kirsten.

“I’m going to undo your cuffs, and you’re going to walk to the kitchen. I laid a thick towel up on the butcher’s block, and I want you up there, too. Hands and knees.”

Her nipples drew tight, her breathing increasing as he unlocked the cuffs, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips as the unyielding cold metal fell away from her wrists.

“Come on, gorgeous,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

She grasped his hand, grateful for the help. Though she wasn’t quite seven months, she was already feeling the change in her center of gravity, and getting up from a kneeling position was a lot harder than it used to be.

Her breasts swayed and jiggled as she got to her feet. Keihl smiled, his fingers tracing the border of one coffee brown areola. She still couldn’t get used to the color, to how they’d enlarged, even swollen somewhat. Kirsten knew he’d always loved the coral color of her nipples — he couldn’t keep his lips and tongue off of them for long — but when they darkened, and enlarged, she feared he’d be repulsed.

Fortunately — or unfortunately — he’d been anything but. Now, he seemed perpetually obsessed with her breasts.

She tried to clamber up onto the block, but Keihl stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Jesus, I’m an idiot,” he muttered to himself. He kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’m sorry, girl. Let me.”

Then he plucked her from the floor, as if her swollen, gravid body weighed almost nothing, the strength in his arms making her pant every time he let her really feel how powerful he was.

It was a strange thing, pregnancy. As he placed her on her hands and knees, his big hand stroking the curve of her naked hip as if she were a prize animal on the auction block, she wondered at some of the little things she missed, little things she didn’t even know were
things
.

Of course, she missed wine — God
damn
did she. Spicy food, one of her indulgences, had been long ago banished; the heartburn she’d end up with afterward was
sooo
not worth it.

But there were other things, too. She missed not feeling like a whale, she missed that feeling in the early morning, when she could spring from the bed as if a child, a bounce in her step thanks to a good night’s sleep.

Surprisingly, she found herself missing even more elemental things, too. The feeling of simply wrestling on the bed with Keihl, the swoon-worthy, primal pleasure of feeling his strength completely overpower hers, the way his arms would wrap her up, his deep growl of pleasure as she giggled and sighed her surrender, the way he’d pin her to the mattress, not saying a word as his hard cock thrust deep, his prize for conquering his beloved wife all over again.

Kirsten yelped as a stinging slap to her bottom brought her back to the present.

“I asked you a question, bad girl. Are you ready?”

Keihl had the white bottle balanced on one palm held up for her to see, to know what would come next. It was time for her rubdown.

“Yes, Sir, I’m ready.”

Her breasts felt so heavy as they swung below her, throbbing in time with her pulse, her nipples already hard, anticipating the caress of his fingers. Ostensibly, the lotion was for her belly, a vitamin E based oil that was supposed to help lessen the stretch marks. He’d long ago told her he didn’t care a whit if she developed stretch marks, and indeed, she knew he’d probably see them as some sort of masculine mark of his ownership upon her, the record of his mastery of her body in every sense of the word.

Men.

“Up. Ass on those heels.” He tapped her arm. “Hands up, behind your head. You know I want you showing off that belly and those tits. Display, girl.”

Straightening her spine, she laced her fingers together behind her head, the position lifting her heavy breasts, the air cool against the sweat on her skin. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes as he walked slowly around her. She knew he enjoyed this part almost as much as what was to come, Keihl letting the anticipation build, drinking in his fill of her naked, vulnerable body.

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