Life Imitates Art Ch. 08

In response, Lucas picked me up, ignoring my squealed protests, and carried me to the bathroom, not setting me down until he turned the shower on.

"You hop in first, love, I'm going to attempt to brush my hair."

I was left alone in front of the mirror, and I studied my expression thoughtfully while I gently eased apart the snarls of my hair.

There was a dazed look in my eyes. My makeup had long since dripped down my face, tear tracks staining my cheeks. My lips were swollen and reddened, looking stretched out. The rest of me wasn't in much better shape.

My wrists and ankles were reddened and chafed, burned by the ropes. Layers of cum and sweat painted my body. There was still a pronounced bite mark on my breast, and the memory of Matthew's teeth and eyes on me had me squirming. I pirouetted, clumsily, and stared at my ass in the mirror.

A rainbow of colours painted my ass cheeks and thighs. I stared silently, fingers gently running against the raised, abraded skin. Even the gentle brush of my fingers was overstimulating, and I winced as I gently peeled apart my ass cheeks to examine my pussy and asshole.

They were both reddened, and so sensitive to the touch it was painful. My asshole gaped slightly, and my pussy, contrarily, had been so abused that it had swollen hermetically shut. I straightened and leaned against the wall, running my fingers through my hair and checking for knots I missed.

I wanted to process what happened tonight, but it was so much. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I thought back.

Lucas and I would talk about it tomorrow. For tonight, as I stepped into the shower, hissing at the water on my oversensitized skin, we were silent. We hugged in the spray, as he gently rinsed my hair and body, his ministrations tender.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, suddenly. "I forgot to pick up Plan B! I'll run out to the store and grab that, I can go right now."

"Mmm... I wouldn't worry about it." I said laconically, arms still wrapped around him.

"I was trying to find a good time to tell you, and I think post-gangbang is as good a time as any."

His arms tightened in realisation.

"I'm pregnant."

He pulled me back and stared at me, awe and fear mingling in his eyes.

"I missed my period a few days ago, and I took the test."

His hands went to my flat stomach, like he could feel it there.

"I let the mother of my unborn child get gangbanged in front of me?"

He sounded horrified, but I saw his cock twitch even as he said it.

"Yes." I smiled. "You did. And I love you for it. I..."

I trailed off, not knowing how to express my gratitude for all that he did for me, tonight and every night.

"We can talk about it tomorrow," he said, pressing a kiss into my hair.

"Tomorrow? We're going to be talking about this for the rest of our lives."

He hummed in agreement, and then we were silent. Lucas helped me clean my hair, diplomatically ignoring the tangles. When we were finished, he towelled me off and dressed me, hands gentle on me, like I might break apart in his fingers.

We took one look at the bed, rumpled and soaked with various bodily fluids, and, in silent agreement, we headed to the sofa. Within seconds, we were asleep, my back pressed into his front, one of his hands splayed protectively over my stomach.

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One week later

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I opened my email, rubbing idly at my stomach. A message from Chris, with an attachment. I felt my pulse pounding, and an immediate slickness at my apex.

"Hey Lucas," I called, "I think you're going to want to see this."