Chapter 2: Set Up
The podium ceremony was a blur of flashbulbs, clapping hands, and the deafening roar of the crowd. Morgan stood on the highest step, the gold trophy clutched tightly in his hands, a brilliant smile plastered across his face. Yet, beneath the surface, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He had done it, won the race, but the elation of victory was quickly overshadowed by the revelation that Emily was pregnant with his child. His heart swelled with a mix of joy and fear, a deep, primal instinct to protect and provide for his unborn child warring with the uncertainty of his own future.
The gravity of it all hit him like a freight train—he was going to be a father.
The podium ceremony ended, and Morgan was ushered away by his crew, the weight of his victory and the revelation about Emily's pregnancy pressing down on him. He was going to miss his flight home, but he needed to see Emily, to confirm the news and start making plans.
Hours later, he found himself standing in front of Emily's apartment door, his heart pounding in his chest. He knocked, the sound echoing through the empty hallway.
Each second felt like an eternity, the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Then, the door creaked open, revealing Emily, her hair tied up in a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes. She looked surprised to see him, but not as shocked as he had been earlier.
"Morgan," she whispered, her voice soft and cautious. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a flight to catch."
Morgan bit back a smile, his heart pounding in his chest. "I did. But I couldn't leave without seeing you first.
Talking to you." He searched her eyes, looking for any sign of what was going on in her mind. She stepped aside, inviting him in. The apartment was quiet, a stark contrast to the noise and chaos of the racetrack.
"You look tired," Morgan noted, his voice gentle as he stepped inside.
Emily shrugged, closing the door behind him. "I've had a long day." She looked at him, her expression softening. "But I'm glad you're here, Morgan. I was hoping we could talk."
Morgan nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. At least they were on the same page.
That was something.
Morgan followed Emily into the living room, his eyes scanning the space. It was the same as it had always been—cozy, lived-in, with the faint scent of lavender and something sweet, like vanilla. The couch was strewn with throw pillows, a half-empty mug of tea sat on the coffee table, and a book lay open face-down beside it. *The Midnight Library*, he noticed. She’d been reading it when they were still together.
Emily sank onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. Morgan hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her, leaving just enough space between them that it didn’t feel like an invasion.
He could feel the warmth radiating from her, smell the faint vanilla scent of her shampoo. It was all so familiar, yet everything had shifted.
"You got my message," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup.
Morgan nodded. "Yeah. I did." He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his still-damp hair from the race. "I didn’t know what to think when I heard. I mean—" He stopped himself, searching for the right words. "I’m just... processing."
Emily’s lips curved slightly, but there was no humor in it. "I know. Me too." She looked down at her hands, then back up at him.
"I didn't plan for this, Morgan. I didn't plan for any of it."
Morgan studied her face. The exhaustion in her eyes, the way her fingers trembled slightly around the mug. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he held back. There was too much unsaid between them.
"I know," he replied softly. "But it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere."
Emily let out a breath she seemed to have been holding. "I didn’t think you would be."
Morgan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Have you told anyone else?"
She shook her head. "No. Just you."
The weight of that settled between them.
Morgan could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the distant sound of a car passing outside. The apartment was so quiet, it felt like the world had stopped just for them.
Emily set her teacup down on the coffee table with a soft *clink*. Her fingers lingered on the handle for a moment before she folded her hands in her lap. "I didn’t know how to tell you," she admitted. "I kept trying to figure out the right way, but there isn’t one, is there?"
Morgan shook his head. There isn’t." He hesitated, then added, "But I’m glad you did."
She looked at him then, her eyes searching his face.
"You're not angry?"
Morgan exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Angry? No. Surprised? Hell yes. But not angry." His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—something raw and unguarded. "I just... I wish you'd told me sooner."
Emily's fingers tightened around her knees. "I found out right before your last race. I didn't want to distract you."
Morgan let out a short, humorless laugh. "You think I could focus on anything else knowing this?"
She bit her lip. "I didn't know how you'd react.
You've got so much going on right now—your career, the championship, everything." Emily's voice was barely above a whisper, her fingers tracing idle patterns on her jeans. "I didn't want to add to that pressure."
Morgan studied her profile—the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, the faint freckles he'd once memorized. "You're not pressure, Em. You're the opposite of pressure." He hesitated, then reached for her hand. When she didn't pull away, he laced their fingers together. "This changes things. But not in a bad way."
Emily exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I've been so scared," she admitted.
"I didn't know if you'd want this, if you'd want *us* again."
Morgan felt something inside him snap. Not anger—something deeper, something primal. He turned to face her fully, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, and he felt her breath hitch.
"Fuck, Emily," he growled, his voice rough with emotion. "Of course I want this. I want *you*. I've always wanted you."
Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as she leaned into his touch. The air between them crackled with tension, the kind that had always existed between them but had been buried under layers of pride and distance.
Now, with the truth laid bare, it surged to the surface, raw and electric.
Morgan’s hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her toward him, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was equal parts hunger and desperation. Emily gasped into his mouth, her hands flying to his shoulders, her nails digging in through the fabric of his suit.
“Fuck,” Morgan groaned against her lips, his tongue pushing past them, tasting her like he’d been starving. She whimpered, her body arching into his, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
Morgan didn’t give a damn about the fabric—he tore it open, sending buttons scattering across the floor. His hands were rough, urgent, as he pushed her back against the couch cushions, his body covering hers.
"Morgan—" Emily breathed, her voice trembling, but he swallowed the rest of her words with another searing kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, claiming her, dominating her, and she moaned into him, her hands sliding down to grip his waist.
He could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her leggings, the way her hips rolled against him, seeking friction. His cock was already hard, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside her.
Morgan didn’t waste time—he shoved a hand between them, his fingers finding the waistband of her leggings and yanking them down her thighs. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as he ripped them the rest of the way off, leaving her bare beneath him.
"Fuck, you’re so wet," he growled, his fingers sliding through her slick folds. Emily gasped, her back arching off the couch as he circled her clit with rough, demanding strokes. "You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Thinking about me fucking you like I own you."
"Yes," she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand.
"I’ve been thinking about you every fucking night."
Morgan didn’t need any more encouragement. He hooked his fingers inside her, curling them just right, and Emily cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him, her body trembling beneath his touch.
"Fuck, you’re so tight," he growled, adding another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. "You’re gonna take my cock so good, aren’t you?"
Emily’s breath hitched, her thighs trembling as he worked her with his fingers, his thumb pressing hard against her clit. "Yes—oh god, yes—"
Morgan didn’t let up.
His fingers were relentless, fucking her with deep, punishing strokes while his thumb ground against her clit in slow, deliberate circles. Emily’s breath came in ragged gasps, her hips lifting off the couch to meet his touch. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling on the edge.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come all over my fingers before I fuck you."
Emily’s nails dug into his shoulders as she obeyed, her back arching off the couch as pleasure ripped through her. Her inner walls clenched around his fingers, her thighs trembling as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.
"Fuck—Morgan—" she gasped, her voice breathless and desperate.
Morgan didn’t give her a second to recover. He withdrew his fingers, slick with her arousal, and brought them to his mouth. His eyes locked onto hers as he licked them clean, tasting her on his tongue. "Fucking delicious," he growled, his voice rough with lust.
Emily watched him, her chest heaving, her body still trembling from the force of her climax. Her eyes were dark with need, her lips swollen from his kisses. "Please," she whispered, her hands reaching for him.
Morgan didn’t need to be asked twice.
He unbuckled his belt with rough, jerking motions, his cock already straining against his boxers. Emily’s eyes were locked onto him, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The sight of her like this—bare beneath him, flushed and desperate—made his blood burn hotter.
He kicked off his pants, his cock springing free, thick and heavy. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and Emily’s gaze flicked down, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” Morgan growled, gripping the base of his shaft and giving it a slow, deliberate stroke. “Look at you.
Fucking soaked for me,” Morgan growled, his fingers digging into Emily’s thighs as he spread her wide. Her pussy glistened, swollen and pink, still trembling from the orgasm he’d just forced out of her. The sight of her like this—bare, exposed, *his*—made his cock throb painfully against his palm.
Emily whimpered, her hips lifting off the couch, begging for more. “Morgan, please—”
“Please what?” He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me how bad you need my cock.”
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his ruined shirt, her voice a desperate whisper.
*"I need you inside me. Now."*
Morgan didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her hips and yanked her to the edge of the couch, his cock pressing against her soaked entrance. The head of him slid through her folds, slick with her arousal, before he thrust forward with a single, brutal motion.
Emily gasped, her back arching as he filled her completely. *"Fuck—Morgan—"*
He didn’t give her time to adjust. His hips snapped forward, driving into her with deep, punishing strokes. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, raw and primal.
Morgan’s cock stretched her open, each thrust forcing a gasp from her lips. The couch creaked beneath them, the cushions shifting as he fucked her with a relentless rhythm. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, his grip bruising as he held her in place, forcing her to take every inch of him.
*"You feel that?"* he growled, his voice rough with lust. *"How fucking tight you are for me? How wet you get when I fuck you like this?"*
Emily’s nails raked down his back, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
*"Fuck, Morgan—you feel so deep—"*
He growled against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. *"That’s right, baby. Take every inch of me."* His hips pistoned forward, his cock slamming into her with brutal precision. The couch groaned beneath them, the cushions shifting as he fucked her with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure.
Emily’s thighs trembled around him, her inner walls clenching as he hit that spot deep inside her. *"Oh god—right there—"*
Morgan’s fingers dug into her hips, his grip bruising as he held her in place, forcing her to take every inch of him. *"You like that?
You like how my cock stretches you open?"* Morgan growled, his voice thick with lust as he drove into her with relentless force. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, leaving red marks that would bloom into bruises later. Emily’s body arched beneath him, her back pressing into the couch as she took every brutal inch of him.
*"Yes—fuck, yes—"* she gasped, her nails raking down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. *"Don’t stop—please, don’t stop—"*
Morgan didn’t plan to.
He was lost in the heat of her, in the way her body gripped him like a vice, her walls fluttering around his cock as he fucked her with deep, punishing strokes. The couch creaked beneath them, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in sharp gasps, her thighs trembling around his waist.
*"You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you?"* he growled, his voice rough with need. *"You’re gonna come all over my cock like a good girl."*
Emily’s nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching off the couch as pleasure coiled tight inside her.
*"Morgan—fuck, I’m so close—"*
Morgan growled, his cock throbbing as he felt her inner walls flutter around him. He leaned down, his lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming her as his hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper into her slick heat.
*"Come for me, baby,"* he growled against her lips, his voice rough with command. *"I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you come."*
Emily’s breath hitched, her body trembling as the orgasm crashed over her.
Her inner walls clenched around Morgan’s cock, her back arching off the couch as pleasure ripped through her. *"Fuck—Morgan—"*
Morgan groaned, his hips slamming into her with brutal force, his cock buried to the hilt inside her. He could feel her pulsing around him, her body milking him, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
*"That’s it, baby,"* he growled, his voice rough with lust. *"Come all over my cock. Fucking drown me in it."*
Emily’s nails dug into his shoulders, her body trembling as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.
Morgan could feel her inner walls clenching around his cock, her slick heat gripping him like a vice. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back, to draw out this moment.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled, his voice rough with need. "So fucking tight. So wet for me."
Emily’s breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Morgan," she whimpered, her voice trembling. "Please, don’t stop."
Morgan didn’t plan to.
He pulled back slightly, his cock sliding almost all the way out of her before he slammed back in with a single, brutal thrust.
The force of it pushed a gasp from Emily's lips, her body arching off the couch as he filled her completely again.
*"Fuck, you take me so well,"* Morgan growled, his voice thick with lust. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her down onto his cock with each powerful thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, raw and primal.
Emily's nails raked down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. *"Harder,"* she gasped, her voice trembling with need. *"Fuck me harder, Morgan."*
A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest.
*"You want it harder, baby? You want me to fuck you so deep you forget your own name?"*
Emily’s breath hitched, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his ruined shirt. *"Yes—fuck, yes—"*
Morgan didn’t hesitate. He pulled back, his cock sliding almost all the way out of her before slamming back in with brutal force. The impact made the couch shudder beneath them, the cushions shifting as he drove into her with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure.
*"Fuck—Morgan—"*
His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her down onto his cock with each powerful thrust.
The couch creaked beneath them, the cushions shifting as he fucked her with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure."*
A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest."*
*"Yes—fuck, yes—"*
Morgan didn’t hesitate.
*"Fuck—Morgan—"*
His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her down onto his cock with each powerful thrust.
"* Morgan growled, his voice rough with lust. *"You like how my cock stretches you open?"*
Emily’s nails raked down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. *"Yes—fuck, yes—"* she gasped, her body arching beneath him. *"Don’t stop—please, don’t stop—"*
Morgan didn’t plan to.
"*
Emily’s nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching off the couch as pleasure coiled tight inside her.
Morgan’s cock was relentless, each brutal thrust forcing a gasp from her lips. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her down onto his cock with each powerful thrust.
*"Fuck, you feel so good,"* Morgan growled, his voice thick with lust. *"So fucking tight. So wet for me."*
Emily’s breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. *"Morgan,"* she whimpered, her voice trembling. *"Please, don’t stop."*
He didn’t plan to.
Not when she felt this fucking perfect wrapped around his cock.
Morgan’s hips snapped forward again, his balls slapping against her ass with each brutal thrust. The couch groaned beneath them, the frame creaking under the force of his movements. He could feel her body trembling, her inner walls fluttering around his shaft as he pounded into her with relentless, punishing strokes.
*"You like that, baby? *"You like how my cock fills you up? How it stretches that tight little cunt of yours?"*
Emily’s nails dug deeper into his shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
*"Fuck—Morgan—"*
Morgan growled, his hips slamming into her with brutal force, his cock buried to the hilt inside her.
He could feel her clenching around him, her body trembling on the edge of another orgasm. He leaned down, his lips crashing against hers in a searing kiss, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping tightly as he pulled her head back, exposing her throat.
*"You’re mine, Emily,"* he growled against her skin, his teeth grazing her pulse point. *"Say it."*
Emily whimpered, her nails raking down his back as she arched into him. *"Yours—fuck, I’m yours, Morgan."*
*"That’s right, baby,"* he snarled, his hips snapping forward with punishing force.
*"You’re fucking mine. Every inch of you belongs to me."* His cock slammed into her with brutal precision, each thrust forcing a gasp from her lips.
Emily’s nails raked down his back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. *"Fuck, Morgan—you feel so deep—"*
He growled against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin.
*"Oh god—right there—"*
Morgan’s fingers dug into her hips, his grip bruising as he held her in place, forcing her to take every inch of him.
His cock was relentless, each brutal thrust forcing a gasp from her lips."* he growled, his voice thick with lust. *"You like how my cock stretches that tight little cunt of yours?"*
Emily’s nails dug deeper into his shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. *"Fuck—Morgan—"*
She could feel him everywhere—his hands gripping her hips, his cock stretching her open, his breath hot against her ear. The sensation was overwhelming, intoxicating.
Every thrust of his cock inside her sent shockwaves through her body, her nerve endings alight with pleasure. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his thick shaft as it stretched her open, filling her completely. The sound of their bodies slapping together was raw, primal, a symphony of flesh against flesh that sent shivers down her spine.
Morgan’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pulled her down onto his cock with each brutal thrust.
But then, with a guttural groan, he suddenly yanked himself out of her, his thick shaft glistening with her arousal. His hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking it with rough, desperate movements as he aimed it at her stomach, her pussy still trembling from the force of their fucking.
*"Fuck—Emily—"* he growled, his voice raw with need as the first thick rope of cum shot from his cock, splattering across her stomach in a hot, sticky streak. Another followed, then another, his release painting her skin in thick, white ribbons. His cum dripped down her stomach, pooling in her navel before sliding lower, mixing with the slickness between her thighs. His cock pulsed in his grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he emptied himself onto her, marking her in the most primal way possible.
Emily’s fingers trembled against his shoulders, her chest rising and falling with the force of her own ragged breaths. She licked her lips, watching him—watching the way his muscles tensed, the way his jaw clenched as he rode out the last waves of his release.
The sight of him like this—raw, unguarded, completely undone—sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She could still feel the ghost of his cock inside her, the way he had stretched her open, the way he had *owned* her. Her body ached in the best way, every nerve still alight from the force of their fucking.
Morgan’s chest heaved as he finally stilled, his grip on his cock loosening as the last drops of cum dripped from the tip. His eyes locked onto her, dark and intense, as if he were seeing her for the first time.