Too Much : Hayes Brothers Book 1
Too Much : Chapter 28

“PLEASE, BABY…” Thalia utters, her tone pleading, eyes almost tearful. “I can’t take it anymore.”

I’m only halfway through. Forty minutes of bringing the beautiful brunette to the brink of an orgasm, then denying her the release.

God, this is torture for me too.

I want to give her what she wants, what she desperately needs at this point. Never before her, but always with her, I’m a pleaser. I live to make her scream my name while she loses her goddamn mind coming any way I can get her off.

An orgasm is a much different deal for women than it is for men. All we need is pace. Rub us the right way and long enough, and you’ll get us there every time.

Women climax with their mind as much as their body—a fact I learned too late in life. It might be why not many women screamed my name before Thalia. I ignored their mind, the emotional side of sex, and how open they were with me.

Things are much different now. The more relaxed and focused on herself Thalia is, the easier triggering her orgasm becomes. I learned to read her mood better. When she’s stressed or tired, initiating sex is different than when she’s rested and cheerful.

Now, she’s fucking desperate.

Hot, bothered, and needy like I’ve not seen a woman before. She struggles. I think she hates me a little too, but I hope it’ll be worth it. I cup her face and capture her lips with an intense kiss, working her up again.

My cock is harder than a steel bar, but I won’t give up. I’ll get her there, even if I’ll end up spilling on the sheets just from watching her thrash on the bed, hands tied behind her back with one of my ties because she tried to get herself off after the third denied orgasm. Curly hair sticks to her neck, a mist of sweat glistening on her olive skin.

“Patience, little one. Hold on just a short while longer.” I move lower, down from her neck, tending to both nipples before I close my lips on her clit. Thalia cries out, the swollen bud sensitive to every flick of my tongue. Every time I eat her out, she gets to the edge faster, and by the eighth time, it only takes a minute before she’s right there, ready to be tipped over. She mutters in Greek, probably swears, and threatens to castrate me if I don’t stop the torture.

Eight should do it, right?

She’s so worked up, so needy. Her whole body vibrates every time I touch her.

“Now,” I say in her ear. I flip her over, so she lays flat on her tummy, straighten her legs and cross her ankles. “Brace, little one.” I drive into her with one smooth thrust. We both let out a moan—hers desperate, mine low and satisfied.

“Oh… yes!” she gasps and lets out a strained puff. “God… you feel so good.”

She feels amazing. She’s always tight, but in this position, at this angle, there’s barely any space. Warm, soaked walls spasm around me as I pull back and rock into her again and again, gaining pace, hitting that one crucial spot.

“You’ll come on my cock, even if it’s the last fucking thing I ever do,” I growl, driving into her faster with each satisfied sound flying out of her sweet lips. Audible, titillating moans spur me on, doubling my efforts.

She’s close.

So fucking close.

I can tell by how her breathing hiccups, the exhales falling further apart.

“Let go. Stop fighting,” I say, keeping the demanding tempo intact. “Stop holding back on me. I’m here for you.” I lean over her, kissing a line in the crook of her neck. “You’re safe with me, baby. Always safe. Let go.”

That seemingly insignificant change in position changes everything. Thalia stills in my arms for a second, and then…

“Oh God, oh God! Yes! Yes!” She switches to Greek, shaking uncontrollably… and she’s coming.

She’s coming on my cock.

“There it is,” I pant, my muscles on fire, but I thrust my hips forward, in and out, harder and deeper. “That’s it, baby. That’s it…”

I could walk on water right about now, watching her spasm beneath me, an erotic, epileptic explosion of ecstasy. The intensity of her orgasm knocks the breath out of her for a few long, delirious seconds. The spasming of her pussy around my cock borders on pain. Addictive, pleasant pain that triggers a tingle of pleasure in my spine. The sensation wraps itself around my hips and erupts as I spill inside her, my chest heaving, lips glued to her nape.

“Finally,” I rasp, pinning her to the matters with the weight of my body. “You came, little one.”

I slide out and move over, stroking her spine.

“Best. Orgasm. Ever,” she breathes. An exhausted half-chuckle, half-moan leaves her lips as she kisses my chest. “You’re amazing…” she sighs, eyes glossy when she lifts her head off the pillow. The bliss on her face makes the agonizing hour worth it.

She’s been absentminded and on edge since the break-in. We both have, but the grim unease fades into the background tonight. Tonight, it’s just us, locked in a bubble.

At least we were in a bubble…

The heavy atmosphere returns as soon as our breathing comes back to normal. It hangs in the air, foretelling that whatever the fuck that break-in was about isn’t over.

Waiting for the ball to drop is nerve-racking.

My watch shows seven in the evening, and as much as I’d like to spend the rest of the evening in bed, getting Thalia off with my cock now that I know she can orgasm that way, we’re supposed to meet my brothers at Nico’s restaurant. Shawn and Jack want our help with some wedding-related shit.

“Can you sit down?” Thalia asks half an hour later and points to the couch when we’re ready to leave.

Her brown eyes lose their glow, and she picks her nails, carelessly chewing her lip. That’s enough to force a pang of worry to jab at my chest.

“Everything okay?”

She straddles me, her hands on my neck, lips on my forehead for a sweet, affectionate peck. “I tried to hold off as long as I could, but I can’t anymore.” She caresses my cheeks and huffs a nervous breath. “We’ve not been dating long, and I don’t want anything from you, okay? Not until you know everything I’ve not told you about my past. You can decide what to do with me after I tell you the truth.”

It takes me a moment to process her words, but when I do, my stomach sinks, and my pulse quickens steadily like water filling a bathtub.

Fuck.

Jesus Christ.

She’s pregnant…

I just know it.

She’s fucking pregnant.

It’s too soon. Isn’t it? Am I ready? Is now a good time? Is my work stable enough? What about Thalia? Will she stay home? Will we need a nanny?

A tornado of contradicting ideas destroys all rational thoughts before they fully form in my mind. I’m furious I knocked her up six weeks into our relationship. I’m furious she held off fuck knows how long before telling me. She’s been through so much stress lately. She works six days a week. She should be resting and taking care of herself…

Shit.

We had a couple of beers last night. How will that affect the baby?

Baby.

My baby.

Mine and Thalia’s.

A mindless daze of happiness washes over me when my mind floods with enticing images. Thalia with a round belly. A little baby boy taking his first steps. Thalia wiping the dirty faces of our kids while we’re barbecuing with my family. I’m overcome with joy… it numbs a little bit of the fury.

Especially since Thalia doesn’t seem scared. She’s not panicking, even though pregnancy will affect her most.

Questions multiply in my head, and it takes a second before I understand that I’m not panicking, either. I’m not thinking of ways to get out of this. I’m not questioning whether I want to build my life and future with her… I do.

How did I get here?

And when exactly?

It’s not like I ever thought about this moment in time. It seemed like such a faraway concept, but now that I’m here, it feels right. So fucking right that I think I don’t deserve to be this happy, but I am.

And that’s all I need to know.

Everything else will fall into place with time.

Thalia’s unaware of the chaos happening inside my head. It’s not even been ten seconds, but I’ve got a plan of action.

Ring. I need a ring and fast.

I cup her face, catching her lips in a slow, affectionate kiss. Jesus, I’m so fucking full, so fluffy inside, my heart might burst any second. “We’ll make it work. I promise, omorfiá. I’ll make this as easy as breathing for you.”

Two wrinkles appear on her forehead, and her expression morphs into pure mortification when I place my hand on her abdomen. “Oh, God! You think I’m pregnant?” she cries, then bursts out laughing. “I’m not pregnant, Theo. That’s not what I want to tell you!”

Not pregnant?

Shit, I can’t keep up with my own head. It would be too soon, so why does my stomach sink and shoulders slump as if she took away something precious from me?

“You’re not? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, but it’s nice to know you wouldn’t run if I were.”

Run? For a few short seconds, I was happier than a giddy toddler at a cartoon convention.

“Then what do you want to tell me?”

She inhales a deep breath, eyes on mine, small hands resting flat on my torso. “I love you.”

What? I’m beyond confused now. Of course, she loves—oh… she’s never said it aloud. I took it for granted because I’d been in love with her for a while. And then it hits me… I’ve never told her, either.

“You only just realized you love me?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ve known since the break-in, but we’re so fresh, and I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You being pregnant for ten seconds, if only in my head, didn’t scare me off. Nothing will.” I kiss her again. “I—”

She clasps her hand over my mouth, cutting me off before I can say those three words back.

“Don’t,” she warns. “Please. Not yet. I have a confession to make first. I just wanted you to know that I love you, Theo. More than you could ever understand.” She kisses me again. “I’m sorry I left it so long before explaining.”

Jittery dread settles around us as she slides off my lap, moving to sit in the wing chair, her fingers knitting an invisible sweater.

I don’t like where this is going.

Sometimes you just know your world is about to be tipped off its axis. That something monumental is about to happen. Something out of your fucking control, and all you can do is sit and watch. An icy liquid works through my veins like some sort of terminal infection, my vocal cords tying into knots.

“What do you want to tell me?”

A shadow of nervousness crosses her face like a gusty wind running across a corn field. “My truth.”