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The Baby Contract

The clack of high heels outside the elevator makes me lower the contract draft I’ve been reviewing. Vivian has returned to her old position as my assistant, and she’s thoughtfully highlighted the parts that I might take issue with.

A soft knock at the door tells me the visitor isn’t my eagle-eyed assistant, and I growl at the unwelcome interruption. “Yes?”

The door opens slowly, and I drop the stack of papers onto the desk. My mate is standing in the doorway, dressed in an outfit so sexy it should be fucking illegal. Her breasts are squeezed into a tight black corset top, which is tucked into a skirt that is just short enough to be indecent in the workplace.

Good thing I’m not her boss, because there is nothing appropriate about the way I’m checking out my wife.

“Ms. Langley,” I rumble, using her old pseudonym as a sexy throwback to the few days when she was my assistant. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just thought I’d stop by to drop the new contract off in person,” she says in a voice so innocent that the hairs along the back of my neck stand on end.

I narrow my eyes in suspicion. “What contract?”

“The second-baby contract,” says Alex, snapping the office door shut behind her and sliding a new stack of papers in front of me.

I cock my head to the side. “You want another kid. I want at least ten more kids. Why do we need a contract?”

It’s not as if we even drew up a prenup when we got married. Everything I have belongs to her.

“It’s true that we both want the same things,” she says, leaning over so that her breasts spill out over the top of her corset.

My cock hardens, and I groan. Three years with this woman, and the fire hasn’t diminished one bit. If anything, I find Alex even sexier since she became a mom. She’s filled out in a way I find hard to resist.

“But I feel that I’d like to renegotiate the terms of our current arrangement.”

“Oh?” I say, too busy calculating how fast I’ll be able to get her out of that ridiculous corset to fully absorb what she’s saying.

“I need you to throw your weight around with the woman who runs that crazy-expensive Montessori preschool. Mia’s getting in.”

“Done,” I say, still staring at my wife’s breasts. “Her Harvard acceptance letter is practically on its way.”

Alex’s eye twitches at how un-seriously I take the whole exclusive-preschool thing. Hell, I went to Head Start, and now I run a Fortune 500 company. But if it’s important to Alex, I’ll get it done. The school would be crazy to turn down the daughter of a billionaire.

“That school lets out at twelve thirty, so we’re going to need to keep the nanny on part-time,” she continues.


“Clara’s been with us for two years, and Mia has grown attached. We need to give Clara a raise so another family doesn’t try to poach her.”

“I agree.”

Alex frowns, clearly suspicious that I’m caving to all of her demands. “And I’d like you home by five on weeknights.”

I grimace. I’m still the CEO of the largest generative-AI company in the world. Cutting out before five is practically unheard of. “How about six?”

“Five,” Alex repeats. “But I’ll give you ’til six on Mondays. And you’re in charge of bath time.”

“All right,” I say, smiling indulgently.

I’ll gladly give this woman anything she asks for if it means she’ll give me another baby. I’d get her pregnant every year if I could. I love breeding my gorgeous mate, and there’s nothing I want more than a big family with her.

“Is that all?” I ask, blinking up at her serenely as I imagine all the ways I’d like to have her.

Over the desk.

On top of the desk.

In my swivel chair.

Pressed against the window.

“Yes. Mostly.”

“It’s a pretty hefty contract,” I observe, flipping through the pages. 

Alex shrugs. “Just boilerplate stuff.”

“Boilerplate? In a second-baby contract?” I catch sight of the phrase “in perpetuity” and cringe. Maybe I should have the company lawyers go over this with a fine-tooth comb. My mate is nothing if not thorough.

But I trust Alex with every fiber of my being, so I snap up my gold fountain pen and scrawl my name on the very last page.

“You’re not going to read it?” she asks, her brows pulling together.

“Nope. I want what you want. And if this is what you want . . .” I trail off and set the pen down. “Plus, I’m way too distracted by you in that outfit to bust out my highlighter.”

The corner of Alex’s mouth lifts in a smirk, and she walks slowly around to my side of the desk. She lifts a hip and perches on the edge closest to me, spreading her legs just enough that I can see the insides of her milky thighs. “I thought you might feel that way,” she purrs, leaning forward to undo the top few buttons of my shirt.

“Ms. Langley . . . did you purposely wear this outfit to manipulate me?”

Alex pulls a mock-offended look. “Mr. Cabrera Garcia, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hmm. Well, if you need clarification, I’m happy to provide it,” I say, positioning myself between her legs and spreading her thighs so that her little skirt rides up.

My jaw hits the floor. She’s not wearing any panties. Her pussy is completely shaved, and her little pink pearl is peeking out at me, teasing me from between her silken folds.

A low growl rumbles up my throat, and I snap my eyes up to meet hers. “Did you come all the way here like this?” I snarl.


I narrow my eyes. There’s a glass staircase leading from the lobby up to the bank of elevators on the second floor. “You mean, you walked up to the elevators with a bare pussy that anyone could have seen?”

She shrugs. “I mean, I don’t think anyone saw.”

My wolf’s hackles go up at the thought of another man catching a glimpse of my wife’s bare cunt. I’m simultaneously furious and a little turned on. 

Judging by the bead of cream that drips out of her onto my desk, my possessive alpha energy is a turn-on for her.

I already know this, of course, and it pisses me off. But the more pissed off I get, the more it turns Alex on, so it all works out.

Grinding my back teeth together, I spread her folds and slide two fingers inside. Alex closes her eyes, and a groan escapes me when I feel how wet she is. “Do I need to remind you whose pussy this is?”

Alex tilts her head back and makes a soft mewing noise, rolling her hips into me and forcing my fingers deeper. I grip her hips to hold her still. She’s not getting off that easily.

“Whose — pussy is this, Ms. Langley?”

“Yours, Mr. Cabrera Garcia.”

“That’s right,” I murmur, rewarding her by pressing my thumb over her swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

Alex moans and tilts her hips, forcing that skirt up so that I have an unobstructed view of her as she rides my fingers.

My erection twitches at the noises she’s making, and I stop teasing her clit. Alex pouts as I withdraw my fingers, and I shove them past those full lips so she can taste her own nectar.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you, Ms. Langley.”

Alex makes a noise of assent around my fingers that’s more whimper than anything else.

“Good girl,” I say, my aching cock straining against my pants. “Now slide off the desk and turn around.”

Alex obeys, starting to tug her skirt down over her hips, but I stop her with a shake of my head. She pivots slowly on the spot and bends her upper body down over my desk. “That’s my good little assistant,” I mutter, admiring the generous swell of her ass.

She whimpers softly as I unfasten my belt and slide it out of my belt loops. She clenches her cheeks in anticipation a split second before I bring the leather tip down on her right cheek. 

Alex sucks in a burst of air, and the belt leaves a satisfying red mark on her skin. I knead her ass to rub the sting away before giving her two more lashes.

Reaching between her legs, I’m pleased to find that she’s dripping with need. The insides of her thighs are sticky with arousal. I need to taste her on my tongue.

Dropping to the floor, I pull her down until she’s practically smothering me, shoving my tongue into her wet little hole and sweeping it around her entrance. Alex’s thighs quiver around my head as I lap at her insides. Then I lick a trail up her center and drag my teeth over her swollen nub.

“Rafael . . .” she moans, grinding her pelvis into my face and smearing her cream all over me.

I fucking love it. I want to devour this woman.

“Please, Raf . . . please, please.”

God, I love it when she begs. That’s how I know she’s right on the edge. 

Sliding out from under my mate, I swipe a hand down my beard and shove her face against my desk. I sigh in relief as I free my erection and nudge her thighs apart.

Lining myself up with her entrance, I ram into her from behind. Alex’s walls clamp all around me, and my eyes roll back in my head. “Fuck, Alex.”

I swear, this woman was fucking made for me. I’ve never experienced anything like the way I feel when I’m inside her.

“No one — gets to — see my wife’s pussy — except me,” I growl, thrusting into her with every word to drive my point home.

“Yes,” she whispers, her pussy clenching around my cock, which is about to explode with cum.

“Yes, what?” I snarl, struggling to hold back.

“Yes, sir.”

“Who does this pussy belong to?” I pant, slamming into her so hard that I hit the very end of her channel. Alex gasps, struggling to take all of me.

“You!” she screams. “Only you!”

“That’s right,” I say hoarsely, reaching around to play with her swollen nub.

Alex whimpers and grinds her ass into my pelvis as I continue to plow her from behind.

I don’t care who hears me making love to my wife. Everyone here knows this woman has me wrapped around her little finger, and the knowledge that someone might overhear our lovemaking fills me with a feral sort of pride.

Alex screams as she comes around my dick, and I release a hot jet of cum straight into her womb. I continue to slide in and out of her as long as I can, her pussy milking every drop of my seed.

When I finally pull out, my eyes land on the scattered pages of Alex’s contract, and I notice that I failed to initial a few of the line items on page three.

Alex didn’t press me on it, which is unlike her. My mate doesn’t miss a thing.

As the realization hits, a slow smile spreads across my face. 

She wants this baby as much as I do — maybe even more. Enough to overlook having her I’s dotted and her T’s crossed.

Alex turns around to face me, and I’m grinning like the cat that got the cream.

“What?” she asks as she tugs down her skirt, suspicion and panic flickering across her face.

I bite my lower lip and hook a finger in the top of her corset, sliding the first button free. “Take this off so I can fuck you again, Ms. Langley. We have a baby to make.”

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