Page 85 of Sire

“But maybe you should keep the IUD in for a while.” He winces like it’s the last thing he wants. “Until I kill my father, I don’t want him trying to take another grandchild. It’ll be hard enough getting Axel’s child back.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if Axel’s wife wasn’t pregnant when she left him?”

“I hope I’m wrong about Katya, but I don’t think so. I’ve never had a woman beg me so many times to breed her, and that’s saying a lot because I…uh…well…”

He shuts up, realizing the hole he’s digging for himself.

I chuckle, amused. “Oh, please, tell me your body count, future husband, because we know mine is zero.”

“Fuck.” Gently, he pulls back. “This is a coffee conversation.”

“No, let’s have it now before boiling hot liquids are involved. Just tell me.”

“You’ll get mad.”

“Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll get aroused.”

He cocks his head with an unsure smirk. “Aroused? By who I’ve fucked in the past?”

Sire doesn’t get it, and I understand. He thinks I’m a delicate flower while I feel like a feral lioness.

Maybe I’m like most women.

I’m both.

“You said it yourself.” I wrap my legs around his, holding him close. “You have a past, and I don’t. You’ve never been in love, but you’ve had dark needs. I don’t care about anyone else. But I care aboutyou. I want to know the dark stuff. The breeding stuff. You can’t tell your future wife that you belong to a fetish club in Atlanta and not tell her about it.” I pause. “Beforeour wedding.”

He shakes his head. “You might run away, screaming.”

“Or … I mightcome, screaming.” I beckon. “Come on. Spill the tea.”

He throws his stare to the ceiling. “If I tell you this, you have to know I didn’t loveanyof them.”

“I believe you.”

“Alright then.” He looks at me, sighing, “Honestly, I don’t know my body count or the names for most, and that’s how I liked it.”

“Liked what? What did you do with them?”

“Find a filter and let me tell you. Then, you can blurt questions. Deal?”

I shake his hand. “Deal.”

He keeps mine, pressing it to his heart. I can feel it pounding in his chest.

“Wren…” He gets quiet, searching my eyes. “This is hard to tell you, and I don’t know why.”

“Because you fear I’ll judge you about your bisexuality or your kink, but I won’t. I promise.” Softly, I shrug. “You’ll have to be understanding with me tomorrow night, for my first time, so let me do it for you now. I understand you have a breeding kink,and…”

“And,”he breathes, “that can mean different things for people. A few really want to get pregnant, but most eroticize the role play, the risk, or the power of it. For me? I eroticize the domination of it. I’m known for it. I can fuck really long and hard, and I like to talk very dirty, almost degrading. But I never actually wanted to get a woman pregnant or have unprotected sex, so I’d wear a condom and come on them, never in them.”

“Them?”

I’m not appalled; I’m aroused. My imagination is on fire. How could he think I’d judge him for this? Iwantthis.

“Yes,them. Mostly, I fucked couples, husbands and wives,or groups who wanted me. I had a liaison at the Atlanta club who’d contact me when someone asked about me.”

My eyes widen. “Like a pimp?”