All Chapters of His accidental surrogate : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Zaire’s pov For the past two hours, I’ve moved methodically through the nursery. Every tiny outfit is folded with precision, blankets stacked neatly, and plush toys arranged just so. I take extra care with the labels, lining the books on the shelves by size and theme, making sure everything will be easy to find once our daughter arrives. Every now and then, I pause, brushing a hand over a soft onesie and imagining the little hands that’ll wear it. Not that I say it out loud. Kyra’s asleep, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d know how to put it into words anyway. A quiet smile tugs at my lips as I keep working. Every small movement feels deliberate, another way of getting ready for her. After double-checking the drawers, I step back and survey the room. Everything is in place. The crib sheets are smooth, the blankets folded neatly, and the tiny shoes lined up in a perfect row. The room already feels alive somehow. Like she’s here even when she isn’t. Satisfied, I move to the ca

Kyra’s pov Another soft flutter rolled through my belly, making me giggle. I brushed my hand over Zaire’s, which was already resting warm and heavy on top of my bump. "Zai... can I ask you something?" I asked, looking up at him. He glanced down at me, a easy smile spreading across his face. "Anything, Ky." "Why do you always say 'them' when you talk about the baby?" I teased, intentionally shifting so my bump nudged his hand. "We already know it's a girl." Zaire chuckled, shrugging with a small, familiar smirk. "Well... I guess I'm just hoping there's *more*. Can't get too attached to one side of the debate until we know for sure. That first ultrasound was early, I'm still hoping." I rolled my eyes, laughing at his stubbornness. "So you're saying it could be... either way?" "Exactly," he said, his voice dropping into that warm, teasing tone I loved. "And besides... 'them' makes it sound mysterious and important. Like they're already their own little person, making their p

Zaire’s pov The pressure inside me built steadily, a tightening knot of sensation that demanded release. I seemed to sense it too, shifting my angle slightly, and the new friction sent a jolt of pure pleasure through me. "Zai," she gasped, my name a plea on her lips. "I know, baby," I murmured against her neck, my voice a low, soothing rumble. "I feel it. Don't fight it." I increased my pace, my strokes becoming more deliberate, more purposeful. "Just let go for me. Let me feel you cum all over my cock." Her words were a catalyst. The raw, possessive praise sent a fresh wave of heat through my veins. I shifted again, hitting a spot inside her that made her whole body tremble. "Right there?" I asked, my voice a low growl. She could only nod, her breath catching in her throat. "Good girl," I praised, my hips snapping forward with a little more force. "You feel so fucking good. Your pussy is so tight and wet for me." I was fucking her properly now, driving into her with deep, powe

Zaire’s pov I pulled into the small parking area outside Kyra’s building and shifted the car into park. The engine hummed low before settling into silence. For a second, neither of us moved. This place was familiar to her. Home. To me, it was just another reminder that she was stepping back into a life she’d been pulled away from. Kyra unbuckled slowly beside me. “Feels weird being back.” I glanced over at her and nodded. “I get that.” I pushed open my door and stepped out. “Come on. Let me help you.” By the time she made it around the car, I already had the trunk open. “I can carry something,” she said. I grabbed her duffel and the tote bag anyway. “Just take your purse.” She rolled her eyes a little but didn’t argue. Good. The hallway smelled exactly how apartment hallways always smelled—cleaning products, old carpet, somebody cooking breakfast too early in the morning. I walked beside her quietly until we reached her door. She stopped before put

Kyra** The next two weeks passed in a rhythm I never expected to fall into. Not exciting. Not dramatic. Just… steady. Every morning, I’d wake up, make breakfast, answer a few work emails if I felt up to it, and figure out what my body was willing to tolerate that day. Some days I had energy. Some days the baby seemed determined to remind me that growing a human was a full-time job. The house felt different now. Warmer. Lived in. There were little reminders everywhere that my life was changing. Prenatal vitamins on the kitchen counter. Baby articles open on my tablet. Tiny notes I’d leave myself so I wouldn’t forget questions for the doctor. I spent my days taking walks, doing light chores, resting when I needed to, and slowly preparing for a future that was getting closer every day. And somehow, without either of us planning it, Zaire became part of that routine. We talked every day. Not because we had some deep emotional conversation we needed to have. Not