Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Elizabeth

Isqueeze Zak's hand so tightly that he pulls his hand away to push his fingers between mine, and he squeezes my hand in reassurance. He glances away from me again, returning to the small black screen.

I was ready for one baby, but two?

Am I truly surprised? I wouldn't put it past him to have stored all his cum from his nine-year celibacy period, and he inserted it inside me every night with a turkey baster. I let out a snigger at the thought.

He looks back at me sharply, his eyes suspicious, but he returns his attention back to the screen.

Sheesh, it's as if he has the hormonal imbalance.

We listen on as the doctor leaves us with information on multiple pregnancies. I grimace at the thought of Zak scrutinising everything and all the extra restrictions he will put on me.

He has turned one of the spare rooms into a medical centre. I'm sure we have more equipment than a clinic at this point.

As soon as Zak dismisses the doctor. Who is old and has never once touched Zak. He scanned me from top to bottom before a smug, self-satisfied grin spread across his face.

And so it begins.

◆◆◆

I never heard the end of it about his super sperm. If I didn't love him and our babies so much, I would have stabbed him in the face by now. The man loved me, cared for me, rubbed my swollen ankles and feet, cooked for me, and talked to the twins as if they were already here. I never thought he would be as excited as me to meet them.

I will never be able to understand this extraordinary man.

On the flip side, he drove me insane by never leaving my side and bitching about everything. Walking downstairs alone, my bath water being too hot, not drinking enough water. The worst of it was the vanilla sex. It didn't matter how much I tried to piss him off until he fucked me hard. Nothing worked.

The only thing that gave me hope was that he told me he had made a list of everything I had done and said to him that broke our rules, and I would be paying for each infraction for a very long time.

For the most part, I can't ever remember being this happy. I cringe thinking of the man I would have ended up with. It would have been someone as stuffy as my father. I feel a little sick come up in my mouth thinking about it.

"I told you to walk a little after eating. I read up—"

"Yes, dear," I said, interrupting him, but he continued.

I close my eyes and ignore him, he goes into his tirades like a little bitch at times. I smile, thinking about our time in Mongolia and wonder if the cabin is still there.

I open one eye to look at him.

He is still going on about my insides being squashed up and how exercise is supposed to help my digestion.

"Ugh, my breasts hurt so much."

He stops talking and looks down at my bulging boobs straining from the bikini top.

He took the barbells out, but he will get his balls snipped after the twins. As much as we love our children, we both miss our usual activities. He had become anxious about the labour.

I keep an innocent look on my face when he moves over to my lounger and unties my bikini. All his focus is on my breasts as he bares them.

I take my breasts and squeeze them together. He groans and buries his face in my breasts.

Do I play up, claiming it"s hormones, and I'm horny?

Sure, but it stops his lectures.