“I’m not.”
Skylar might resist me with her mouth, but her body says otherwise.
Hands on my shoulders, she scooches to help me nudge her shirt from beneath her ass and up her body, exposing herself to me inch by inch.
A fire burns within me. My desires are far deeper than just fucking her. When my knuckles brush over her naked body, I see our future.
Our future where her stomach will stretch with our child. With dozens of them, one after the other.
Putting a baby into that stomach isn’t a calling or something I was conditioned to do.
It’s the ache in my bones. The beating of my heart. The precum wetting the head of my dick.
Fuck. My restraint is slipping, but I’m stronger.
I take a deep breath and clear my head, figuring out what she needs instead of what I want.
That’s what I focus on. Her. Cleaning her.
When I’m able to concentrate, I start by dipping the washcloth in the water. The next step is to pour sanitizing soap on it and tend to Skylar.
Just like I did with the oil yesterday, I start with her shoulders. But her hair is in the way.
I reach with my free hand to move it aside, but Skylar, the confusing tease she is, gets there first.
Electricity snaps through me when our fingers graze. I’m too turned on by the simple contact to stop her from tucking it behind her back on her own.
My body tenses as I follow every movement, watching her thick blonde hair slide aside and bare more of her neck that’s bearing my marks.
Desperate for a bite, my teeth grind.
Too damn tempting. This woman, she’s carving my insides, changing me.
No.
Absolutely not.
I have to keep it together. Have to stay lucid to protect her.
As impossible as it is.
Frustrated, I growl, dragging the cloth over her in circular motions. Faster. More careless.
Her fault for driving me insane the way she does. For hollowing me out and filling me with nothing but her.
Half out of my mind, I blink the thought away and scrub until I’m done with the front of her body.
A surprised cry escapes her when I lift her off the table.
“You know, Skylar, talking back, taunting me…” I flip her to face away from me, pinning her hands flat to the table. “That’s also you, begging to be fucked.”
“Maybe,” she whispers.
Her husky voice. Her ass, my fucking God.
My chest heaves, and my jeans feel ready to split from how hard I am for her.
A quick, possessive bite to her shoulder, and she’s whimpering for me.
