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“I used to dream of this,” I confess, voice embarrassingly guttural as I watch my cock pump between her tits. “In the early days, all those times you were on my exam table, your pussy so pink and wet for me,” she moans and I grunt, feeling the vibration against my shaft, “I’d look up at you and see them—these perfect tits—and daydream about how they’d look once our seed took hold.”

“Oh, god,” she breathes, eyes slamming shut.

“Lean back,” I tell her, pumping up and down to keep the friction. I cup her tits in both hands and squeeze them together, increasing the sensation. Her boobs are huge, and before I think, I tweak her nipple, eliciting a cry. “You tell me if it’s too rough.”

With her head propped lazily against the tile, she says, “The pressure feels good, don’t you dare stop.”

I couldn’t if I tried.

Pumping into her, I say, “It really pisses me off that I couldn’t give my seed to you like they did. I would have been so good at it, baby.” The words tumble out of gritted teeth, any sanity obscured by the sight of her, panting, eyes glazed with stunned arousal. “I would have bred you day and night, so fucking eager to be the one who put my baby into you. That’s what I’m gonna do when you’re fertile for me again. Won’t let you be empty again, Verity...”

“Lex,” she whines, expression collapsing. “Keep going.”

The intensity of the night takes over—Lagantakes over—and I rock into her, increasing the pace. Her eyes hold mine and it’s so good this way, looking down at her face, the lights on, no sleep between us. Her hands cup my balls, kneading at the sensitive sack. “Fuck, baby,” I grind out, trying to keep my wits, wanting this to last as long as it can. “I love your eyes. I love that freckle behind your ear, and the stretch mark on your right hip.” I fuck in and out, delirious from it all. “I love your hands—soft enough to drive me wild, powerful enough to slay the monster in the palace.” I hunch over her, lips pressed against her forehead, watching her nipples as they start to weep. I swipe a thumb over it and stick it in my mouth, tasting the nourishment that will feed our son. “I love this baby andeverythingit’s doing to your body. I love you, Verity, so fucking much.”

I thrust up one last time, the tip pushing through the top of her cleavage. Cum spurts out, thick and ropey, spilling all over her chest and the swell of her tits.

Her lips part, the crest of a moan tumbling from her throat, and her hand drops, sliding between her legs.

I stop her. “No.”

She blinks, flushed and impatient. “Why?

Glancing over my shoulder toward the door, I explain, “Because odds are, you aren’t the only one who’s horny, and you need to be ready.”

18

Pace

“Justice,”I say, clearly enunciating the name.

Black, shrewd eyes look into mine as Effie cocks her head. “Pretty bird?”

“No.” I hold the treat just out of her reach. “Justice. It’s the baby.”

“Baby.” Effie inches closer to the treat, bobbing her head with a trilled, “Baby bird.”

Chuckling, I concede, “Yes, you’re my baby bird. Justice is our baby boy. Can you say Justice?”

She lifts a foot toward the treat, straining. “Baby bird. Fuckingbabybird.”

“Fair enough.” Sighing, I relent, giving her the treat and scritching her ruff. “You’re probably not the only one around here who’ll need to get used to the concept of justice.”

And that’s not the only concept that’s taking time to adjust to. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since I found out I have a father, and not the corpse being collected by the Barons.

The real one.

Every spare moment I get, he pops in my head. That day at the gym, when he was sparring with me, I didn’t take the time to really look at him. Talk to him. Know him. And even though a part of me is achingly curious, a bigger, much stronger part of me mostly just feels pissed the fuck off.

I’d never leave Verity here with that monster.

“They’ve been in there a while, right?” Wick glances over at the bathroom door. The shower slowed about fifteen minutes ago, then turned back on. Then shut off again.

Wicker obviously took a shower down the hall because he’s got a towel around his waist, and I can smell the soap on his skin from across the room. Carefully, he places his knife and gun in the weapons compartment under the bed.

After alerting the Barons and leaving Rory and Tommy to deal with the exchange, we came upstairs to prepare for bed. We knew Lex would want to check Verity out, make sure the baby didn’t suffer during the scene downstairs, but Wick is right, they’ve been in there a long fucking time.

“Night, Effie,” I say, running my finger over her beak and dropping the cover over the cage. “Maybe I should go check?—”