My Cousin's Pregnant Girlfriend - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

What red-blooded man could resist such temptation? Every curve of her body was an invitation, soft and yielding beneath my hands. Unlike our first encounter separated only by a towel, now her supple flesh moved like liquid silk, filling my grasp as I pulled her closer.
Her breath hitched in my ear, skin slick with desire.
It felt like a dream—but not quite.
The heat radiating from her made me curse under my breath. Christ, this dream felt too goddamn real.
Just as I was about to take her, to lose myself completely, I saw him.
Ryan.
Standing motionless by the bed, his eyes burned with murderous intent—like I was already a dead man walking.
I bolted upright, sheets soaked with cold sweat.
Morning light filtered through the beige curtains, painting the room in soft gold. The transition from nightmare to reality left me disoriented.
"Just a dream?" I muttered, running a hand down my face. But the lingering dread in my chest said otherwise.
That morning, Vanessa cornered me before I could leave. "Stay for breakfast," she insisted, "Let me cook for you as thanks."
I waved her off. "Really, it's no trouble—"
"I won't take no for an answer." Her stubborn smile left no room for argument.
Truth be told, I was curious whether a society woman like her even knew how to work a stove.
The moment I agreed, her face lit up like Christmas morning. She shooed me to the living room while she worked her magic in the kitchen.
Soon, rich aromas of garlic and herbs had my stomach growling. Color me surprised—Vanessa could actually cook.
"Dinner's ready!" she called, appearing in the doorway with an apron tied around her waist. For a fleeting moment, the domestic scene felt... comfortable.
It had been years since I'd been home. Not that there was much waiting for me there, but still. Ryan always shot down any mention of visiting—"Focus on your craft," he'd say.
My thoughts scattered as Vanessa brought out the dishes. I jumped up to help—no way was I letting a pregnant woman wait on me.
When everything was served, I gave an exaggerated thumbs-up. "Damn, Vanessa. This looks restaurant-quality."
A blush crept up her neck. "Hope it tastes alright. Dig in."
I took my first bite and made a show of savoring it. "No kidding—this is incredible."
"Then eat up," she beamed, piling more food onto my plate.
After the meal, she convinced me to rest before heading out—the midday sun was brutal. My head still felt foggy anyway, so I agreed.
I'd barely settled into bed when Vanessa appeared. Without a word, she slid under the covers.
Her cool body molded against mine, sparking an instant fire in my veins.
"Please," she whispered, fingers already working at her buttons. "My husband's never home. I can't stand it anymore."
In seconds, she was bare against me, tugging at my clothes.
"Wait—you're pregnant," I protested halfheartedly, making a token effort to push her away.
She only pressed closer, her hand sliding south. I hissed as her lips grazed my ear. "Doctor said it's safe now. Just... go easy on me."
What man had that kind of willpower?
I burned up like dry kindling, consumed by the flames.
Afterward, Vanessa curled against my chest, asleep within minutes.
I'd tried to be gentle, but hell—it had been too long.
Once her breathing deepened, I carried her back to her room, tucked her in, and slipped out like a thief in the night.