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Abel Lockwood would do anything to become a father—including hiring a company that matches donor mothers with prospective fathers. Love Child caters to wealthy bachelors who’ve been unsuccessful in creating a family through traditional means. Despite Love Child being an unconventional route to take, the conception takes place exactly the way nature intended.
Nearing forty and still single, Abel has accepted he won’t meet the right woman to marry and have a family with, so Love Child is his last hope for becoming a father. He’s gone through the files of the potential donors and handpicked one perfect candidate to create his baby with.
The moment he comes face to face with Adeline Matthews, Abel knows she’s the one. But not just the one he’s hoping to make a baby with. She’s the one he’s hoping to create a family with.
Giving a terse nod, her head twisted back around as she stood, moving toward my closet. “I’ll hang these up and give you some privacy.”
She was flustered. I could tell from the pitch of her hips and the tone of her voice. I loved how I already could sense her emotions. How I felt like I had the pad of my finger pressed into the pulse of her feelings.
“I don’t want privacy. Not from you, Adeline. The rest of the world, fine, but the last thing I want from you right now is for you to give me some privacy.”
Following her into my walk-in closet, I hovered in the doorway. She knew I was there, so she hung my suits and kept turned away.
“I wanted to take a shower first. I wanted to change into something different.” She pinched the hem of her dress, lifting it as she inspected it like it was subpar. “I wanted to get all ready for tonight, to be ready for you.”
My throat tightened at her words. “The woman standing in front of me right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. There is nothing you could do to be more beautiful than you are right now.”
She let the hem of her dress fall, inspecting her palms. Adeline’s hands were strong and had the calluses to prove it. To look at her, she was as fragile as a bird, but to know her, she was the strongest thing around. “I’m plain. Perfectly ordinary. You don’t have to try to convince me otherwise. I’m happy with who I am, but please don’t lie to me. You don’t have to tell me I’m beautiful to get me to sleep with you. I already agreed to that.”
How could she not see it? How did she not know? Moving closer, I fought the urge to wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “I’m telling you that because it’s the truest thing I’ve ever known. Not because I’m lying to you or trying to get you to sleep with me or any reason other than because it’s the truth.” I let my hand slide around her waist.
She trembled but didn’t shy away. “I wanted tonight to be special.”
Unable to fight the urge to be near her, I stepped closer until my chest was pressing into her back. My perma-hard dick jutted between us, nudging her in the ass. She flinched, but instead of moving away, she moved closer until her soft, full backside was pressed into my crotch.
A ragged breath hissed from me when I felt the warmth of her skin through the material of her dress, heating my cock. “This is going to be special no matter how or where we do it, no matter what you’re wearing or not wearing. You’re giving me the gift of your virginity. That’s special.”
Sliding her hair behind her back, I lowered my mouth to her neck to taste it. She gave a little whimper when I sucked at the delicate skin. I knew I shouldn’t have, but damn, I couldn’t help putting my mark on her. She tasted just like I’d expected—sweet like cherries, with a hint of innocence.
“I’m about to put my baby inside of you,” I breathed against her. “That is the most fucking special thing in this whole world. Just relax, baby. This will be special. This will be perfect. Because I’m sharing it with you.”
She started breathing faster when my arm wound around her, securing her tiny body against mine. Her heavy chest spilled out above my arm, making my balls ache with what I’d built up just for her.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered even as her ass started to wiggle up and down my length until her cheeks were essentially fucking me through her dress.
My hand curled into a fist, my teeth gritting as I forced myself to hold off. It would serve no purpose to cum all over her ass when I was trying to get her pregnant.
“I don’t think I’ll be very good at first. Just tell me what to do . . . show me what you need.” Her breathy voice, matched with her ass working me over, became too much. I had to step back to keep from losing it all over that pretty floral dress.
“Adeline, baby”—I twisted her around so I could look in her eyes—“you are perfect in every way. From the way you smile to the way you laugh to the way you’re going to fuck. Enough worrying. Just relax and let me take care of you.”
Kat Austen is the secret pen name of a New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author. Kat writes short and steamy reads that leave hearts (and other parts) satisfied.
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