Chapter 22
Vixen…
That was the look Emily was going for as she bit her bottom lip and waggled her eyebrows. But Christian saw the uncertainty in her eyes.
He’d really thrown her for a loop when he told her he thought she’d make an excellent mother. And even though it’d gutted him to hear her say she planned to become artificially inseminated, especially since he could quite easilyimagine a little girl with his eyes—they were better suited for a girl—his chin dimple, and Emily’s dark, wavy hair, he couldn’t deny the truth of his statement.
Shewouldmake an excellent mother. She’d be strict yet kind. Consistent yet open to the occasional bending of the rules. And most importantly, she would be absolutely ferocious in her love for her children. She would stand againstthe world for them, lay down her life for them, make bloody well certain they never went a day without knowing they were her everything.
She would be the mother she never had. She would be the motherhenever had.
If he hadn’t already loved her with every fiber of his being, imagining her as a mother would have sent him falling ass over tits. And itkilledhim that she wantedhimto bea part of her children’s lives, that she thought him worthy of the honor.
It also gave him hope that eventually, with time, she’d come to realize she didn’t need a sperm donor. All she needed was him.
“Christian?” There was a question in her eyes. He’d been silent too long. “If you’re not up for it, I underst—”
He caught her sweet mouth in a kiss meant not only to silent her words,but also her thoughts. Not up for it? Was she mad?
As always happened anytime their lips touched, he was completely overwhelmed by her. Pressing her into the mattress, he cupped her face and kissed her with everything he had. Trying to convey everything he could not say aloud with the caress of his lips, the stroke of his tongue.
When he finally pulled away, they were both fighting forair. “Not up for it, eh?” He quirked a brow, grabbed her hand, and guided it down to the strain of his cock against the fly of his jeans. “Darling, since the first time I saw you walk through the doors of BKI, I’ve been up for it.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned up at him. Then she curled her delicate fingers around his cock and squeezed. It was enough to have hiseyes crossing. A groan rumbled from the back of his throat.
“We have to be quiet,” he instructed, pinning her with a knowing look.
“I can be quiet.”
“Mmm,” he said skeptically. The woman was a wildcat in the throes of passion. She screamed her pleasure at the top of her lungs.
“I can,” she insisted, her chest rising and falling with breaths quickened by anticipation.
She continuedto stroke him. Which would never do. Two more minutes of attention from her busy, talented hand, and he’d go off in his drawers.
Grabbing her wrist, he forced her fingers free of him. His silly cock wept at the loss of friction, but he silently promised the silly bugger the reward would be worth the wait.
“I’m going to take your clothes off now, Emily,” he told her, not recognizing hisown voice. It had dropped three octaves, going low and growly with desire. Not waiting for her acquiescence—the hungry, eager look in her eyes was all the agreement he needed—he whipped her sweatshirt over her head.
Delighted, he watched as her hair spilled out and spread across the stark white pillow. Even in the dim light of the sleeping cabin, it shined with silky health. Usually, she keptit secured in a ponytail or a sloppy bun atop her head. But when she let it down…heaven help him.
Picking up a lock, he held it to his nose and inhaled that sweet, exotic scent that was uniquely her. He didn’t know why he confessed what he did then. It simply slipped out of him. “I’ve been using your shampoo in the shower.”
She was pressing a finger into the dimple in his chin, but thathad her feathering her fingers through his hair. “You have? Ithoughtthat bottle was getting empty faster than usual.”
“But I haven’t been washing my hair with it.”
“No?” Her brow puckered. “Then what have you been doing with…Oh!”
A dark blush stole onto her cheeks, and he couldn’t help his wicked grin. “If I live to be a thousand years old, the smell of your shampoo will make mehard.”
“Kinky.” She giggled, her breaths coming faster. Shefanciedthe thought of him lathering up his hands and having a wank.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promised, claiming her mouth in another kiss as he undid her bra and slipped it from her shoulders.
Pulling back, he eyed the treasures he’d uncovered. “Ah, Emily. You have the prettiest pink nipples in the whole world.I can’t get enough of them.”
He bent to take one tender peak into his mouth, enchanted when it furled tighter. She hissed, her hands stabbing into his hair to hold him to her. When he tongued the turgid little nub, she moaned his name, turning to throw a leg over his hip so she could grind herself against his hardness.
