No barrier.
For a flicker of an instant, the worry of pregnancy entered her mind. She did a quick calculation and then relaxed. She was in the clear.
Yet she couldn’t deny the way her heart sang a little at the thought of carrying Roarke’s child.
He rocked into her and she met his thrusts, lifting her hips as he brought her to the brink of her second orgasm. She came hard, her body shuddering, her legs shaking, and her insides throbbing around his cock.
She bit back the screams wanting to belt from her throat, clamping her lips together against his shoulder as the last waves of ecstasy ebbed from her center.
Roarke grunted—deep, low, and primitive—as he pumped into her. His strong, sinewy arms caged her, and his breath was hot and heavy against her cheek. “Holy fuck, Laine.” His voice was lower than usual, and each word seemed to be spoken with difficulty.
He pumped deep into her, his muscles going rigid and tense. Then his pace slowed. His thrusts became softer, gentler.
Holding tightly to his neck, she inhaled his heady, masculine scent. She didn’t want them to part. She’d wanted this exact moment for as long as she could remember.
“Laine, you’re incredible. You feel amazing ... Christ.” His mouth found her neck, then her lips. He stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she murmured. Tears blurred her vision.
Even in the dim light, she could see his intense, worried stare. She bit her lip. That response wouldn’t satisfy him.
“Laine, did I hurt you? Are you upset?”
She shook her head, wishing she had a poker face. Where Roarke was concerned, she was an open book. “I’m just happy,” she whispered.
His face relaxed. He kissed her forehead. “I am too, baby.” His hand settled on her cheek. “This might have been our first time, but it won’t be our last.”
The promise was warm and determined—full of sincerity.
However, she couldn’t help but feel as if she’d wake up to find that this had all been a beautiful dream.
And once again, she’d be alone.
Chapter
Fourteen
Roarke scrubbed his hand over his face. He lay sprawled on the couch, his blanket half on his body, half on the floor. The spot next to him, where Laine had been for most of the night, was vacant and cold.
His heart constricted.
She’d obviously gotten up to make sure Emmy didn’t find them sleeping together, but he hated waking up to her gone.
Sex with Laine had been incredible. Everything he’d ever imagined and more. He’d never get her sweet heat from his head. Her soft, breathless moans engrained in his psyche for as long as he lived.
He went to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker before heading to the bathroom to shower. Because his clean clothes were in the bedroom where Laine and Emmy slept, he put on the clothes he’d worn yesterday. He’d change later.
He wanted them to get all the rest they needed, but he also wanted to be ready as soon as possible. He’d booked seats on a flight that left early in the afternoon, and Tango would be arriving with their passports at some point this morning.
Returning to the kitchen, he poured a cup of coffee and left it black. He’d let the girls sleep a little longer, maybe go outside and enjoy the sunrise.
The girls.
Why did that feel likehisgirls? Maybe because he was losing touch with reality and coffee wouldn’t do shit to right that mess.
“That stuff stinks.”
He jolted, and scalding-hot coffee splashed over his hand. “Ah, shit.” He placed the cup on the counter and shook his wrist.
