His Baby Machine

Punishment

Chapter 21

Punishment

Sarahi's POV

Later this week, Fiona came by the shared office and left the dress designed exclusively for me by him.

He told me that it would come after three rounds with me on top of him. The heat rose up as I remembered those blue eyes rolling back when I pushed him to his limit. Sucking my bottom lip, I opened the plastic cape and Oh, my goodness! It was out of this world. I had never seen something like that before. He would be making two dresses, one for me and the other one for Maribel. She will open the Christmas runway and I will end it with him by my side. As I touched the fabric, the texture rolled down my fingers, leaving a smooth sensation in me.

My eyes caught a small gadget lying on my desk. I checked the time and 5 minutes had already passed. One blue line showed an empty womb. A tear rolled down as I stared at the stick.

I went home broken and all I wanted was to be alone, without him. I passed through his work room and fortunately he was busy talking about the event, so I strolled to our room, removing my heels. I jumped on my side of the bed feeling empty. Suddenly I felt my body being dragged to the other side, recognizing his coconut vanilla scent. I turned to hide myself on his chest.

“The miracles happen when you don't expect them, that is why they are called miracles. A baby is the greatest miracle and surely will come for us, after all we are doing well with our work.” Stroking my head and shifting my body all over his, he whispered those words. Being always in control of things, I didn't need to ask how he knew. Without leaving his warm body, I spoke with my sobbing voice, “What if I am a broken baby machine and I can't give you a baby?”

I didn't know that my question would shed light on it, and he separated from me, heading to the sofa we had placed by the window. My comfort zone.

"Come," he ordered in his unusually authoritative tone, which triggered something inside me, compelling me to follow his simple order.

His blue eyes had taken on a strangely dark hue.

"Turn around!" his voice commanded once more. I followed his instructions, feeling his hand on the zipper of my pencil skirt, causing the outfit to slide down to my feet.

I felt his hand on my left buttock and his breath on the other, before I could say anything, I found myself over his lap. Swiftly, he turned me upside down, my lower body resting over his thighs, facing the sofa's fabric when a loud blast echoed in the room from his hand connecting with my buttocks.

He slapped me.

I felt something building inside me as he combined the gripping of my plump cheek with the slaps. He didn't ask me to count, but I did it anyway. There were six slaps and six gropes.

I was a dripping mess down there as my lacy undergarments were wet and sweaty.

"Go, lie on all fours over the bed.”

He was demanding and I was excited, just like I enjoyed in my books when male characters were like him.

I feel his hand removing my underwear and his fingers exploring my wet cave and its entrance.

“The slaps weren't meant to get you excited, Sarahi, but were your punishment for those words you said.” I saw him coming toward me, making me want him.

“Get up, we will take a cold shower.”

“Oh, the hell, I am not taking a cold shower without my release. Come here and finish your job!” I screamed, but he walked into the bathroom.

Humiliation and the feeling of being unwanted hit me harder. He just stabbed me.

I swear he will regret this.

I mustered up the last bit of pride and swallowed down my need. I entered the shower.

He was there, offering to wash me, but I refused.

“I don't need your help showering. If you're done, you can leave.”

 I can take care of myself, and I can also make others regret taking me for granted.

He moved away and I finished quickly. When I got out, he wasn't inside the room.

I put down the towel and started to rub the essential oil all over my body. I have dry skin that gets worse during winter. He came without knocking and found me caressing my breast. I don't know what came over me, but I started to rub myself slowly, enticing something feral for both of us. I placed my foot on the chair nearby my makeup desk and started to rub it slowly. I stared at him and he was ravishing me with his aquamarine eyes that somehow had lost their color and turned darker.

Then I spotted his package bulging out of the bathrobe.

To prolong his torture, I took my time with the other leg.

He came in front of me, and there I stopped, put on the nightdress, ignoring him as I went to the desk, leaving the cream bottle, and going to the bathroom.

When I arrived, he was already settled in bed. I wanted to go sleep somewhere else, but when I looked at him, my heart skipped a beat. After all, I love him, so I went and sat on my side, turning off my lights.

Not a minute passed when he swiftly shifted my body over his chest.

"You are not here to make me a baby. It's your body, and the baby will be raised inside you. For months, you will take care of him unconsciously, you will start to think more for him than for yourself. If you are pregnant, I am not the only one to be a parent, you will be a mom too. 

Who knows why you can't get pregnant. Maybe the problem is with me, but I doubt that both of us have a problem. We did all the necessary exams before marriage. And stop, for God's sake, saying you are a baby machine.That was the worst thing I have said and whenever you say it, I feel stupid for saying that," he stated as his fingers combed my hair and his heartbeat created a symphony that sent me to Dreamland. Maybe he kept talking, but I just wanted to fall asleep to the melodic tune of his heart.