He pulls me up from the chair, and I rise willingly, almost melting against him. His arms slide around my waist, drawing me tight against the hard plane of his body. The contact sends heat spiraling between my legs. My stomach flutters, my skin tingling everywhere he touches.
He kisses me like he’s been waiting for this for days. Maybe longer. Maybe since the last time we were together.
My body answers him without hesitation. I press into him, fingers curling at the nape of his neck. He deepens the kiss again, mouth hot and insistent, tongue teasing mine until I gasp.
He moves his hands down my spine, slow and deliberate, stopping at the small of my back. He lifts me from the chair and pulls me against his hips, and I feel him harden instantly through the fabric of his pants.
A soft sound escapes me. He swallows it in a kiss.
He moves to my throat, kissing slowly down the side of my neck. His breath is warm, his lips hot, and each kiss sends a shiver racing through me. I tilt my head to give him more room. His hand slides beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of my waist. I inhale sharply. My body pulses, needy and aching.
He murmurs against my throat. “Come with me.”
He pulls back just enough to take my hand. His grip is firm, warm, and confident. He leads me toward his bedroom. Our breaths come out uneven, our hearts pounding.
Inside, the air feels charged. Expectant. He turns and cups my face gently, searching my eyes for hesitation. There is none. I rise onto my toes and kiss him again.
This time he grows hungrier, kissing me with a slow, deep intensity that steals my breath. His hands roam my body, sliding under my shirt, lifting it over my head. I raise my arms without thinking. The shirt falls somewhere behind me. He stares at my bare skin with heat that makes my knees weak.
“You look incredible,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
Heat blooms across my chest, belly, and between my thighs. He lowers his mouth to my collarbone, kissing the soft skin there, then lower, tracing the slope of my breast. I gasp, and he tightens his arm around my waist, pulling me closer as if afraid I might lose balance.
He lays me down on the bed, slow and intentional. His hands slide over my sides, down my hips, then up again, learning me with gentle but possessive strokes. I arch into him, my body begging for contact.
He strips the rest of my clothes away and undresses himself in sharp, efficient movements. And then he is above me, warm and solid and so incredibly careful it almost hurts.
He kisses me again, softer now, as if savoring the moment. His fingers skim down my stomach, stopping just below my navel. I stiffen instinctively, my hand shooting out to grab his wrist.
He lifts his head, studying my face. “Are you all right?”
I force a breath. “Yes. I’m just sensitive.”
He nods like he understands and kisses me again, moving lower, trailing heat across my belly, my hipbones, my thighs. His mouth finds the most sensitive part of me and pleasure sweeps through me so sharply I bite back a cry. His tongue moves slow and deliberate, coaxing me open, coaxing me higher, coaxing me toward that familiar trembling edge.
I come with a soft, broken sound, my thighs tightening around his shoulders. He murmurs something I can’t quite understand, but it feels like praise against my skin.
He moves back up my body, kissing my stomach, then my breasts, then my throat. When he reaches my lips, he kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He slides into me slowly. Carefully. Each inch sends a wave of heat through me until he is fully inside, filling me, stretching me, grounding me. He pauses there, forehead pressed to mine, breath shaking.
“You feel incredible,” he murmurs.
He begins to move, slowly at first, with deep, rhythmic thrusts that drive me insane. I arch into him, clinging to his shoulders, feeling every inch of him, every pulse of pleasure that builds and builds.
He keeps kissing me the entire time, long and deep and consuming, until the world falls away. When I come again, he follows, pulsing inside me with a low groan that vibrates through my entire body. He collapses gently, bracing himself so he doesn’t crush me, breathing hard against my shoulder.
For a long moment, we lie tangled together, skin slick, breath uneven, hearts racing in the same rhythm. I close my eyes and let myself feel everything. The warmth, the safety, and the terrifying, impossible sense that this man is somehow becoming part of me.
And all the while, the secret rests under my heart, small and silent. A tiny heartbeat I will protect with everything in me.
Even from him.
Especially from him.
