Page 115 of Talk Wicked to Me

She crawled up his body, slowing to lick his nipple. He sucked in air through clenched teeth and rolled her beneath him, loving the primal look in her eyes. “There will be nothing proper in the way I’m going to thank you.” He kissed her passionately, then feasted his way down her body, loving her breasts, her belly, and devouring her pussy. She writhed, heels digging into the mattress. “Come on my tongue. Show me how much you like it.” She grabbed his hair, watching as he sucked her clit. “Ohgod. Baz, I’m gonna—” Her hips shot up as she lost control, and he pinned them down, taking his fill, earning sharp gasps and sinful moans.

When she came down from the high, he said, “Ride me, baby. I want to watch your beautiful body take me deep.” Their gazes held as they moved into position, and she straddled him. He guided her onto his rigid cock until he was buried to the hilt. Her breath left her lungs in a rush, and he gritted out, “Emerson.”

Those chestnut eyes brimmed with emotions as she ground her hips, keeping him deep inside her as she planted her hands on his chest. “You feel so big,” she said breathily. “So good.”

He grabbed her hips as they found their rhythm. She squeezed his cock with every rock of her hips. Lust coiled inside him. She quickened her efforts, arching back, her gorgeous tits there for the taking. He sat up, taking one nipple in his mouth as she rode him harder, faster. “Yes,” she panted out. “So good, Baz. Don’t stop.” He groped and sucked and teased until she was trembling, riding him so hard and so fast, he had to lie back down so he could thrust into her harder and deeper. Nothing had ever felt so fucking incredible. He used one hand on her clit, and she shattered around him, his name sailing from her lips. “You’re so tight, so fucking hot. It feels too good. Too…” Reality slammed into him. “Fuck. Condom.” Her eyes flew open, and she scrambled off him. He leaned over her, fisting his dick as his orgasm hit, and jet after thick white jet streaked her gorgeous tits.

“Fuck,” he panted out, cursing himself for being so reckless. “Sorry, baby. I should’ve been more careful.”

“I should’ve, too.”

“No. It’s my responsibility to protect you, and I fucked up.”

“Get over yourself, He-Man,” she teased. “We were both lost in the moment. It happens. Well, it’s never happened to me before, but nobody’s ever made me feel like you do.”

“That makes two of us.” He kissed her.

She bit her lower lip, looking too damn sexy and irresistibly cute eyeing the sticky mess on her chest. “Fess up. You just wanted to mark your territory.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through the warm come as he licked her nipple, earning a sharp inhalation. “I’m not going to lie, babe.” He dragged his come-covered finger around her nipple. “I get off coming on you as much as I do coming inside you.” He ran his finger through the sticky mess again and dragged his fingertip along her lower lip.

Her cheeks pinked up, but she slid her tongue across her lower lip, then dragged her teeth over it, sucking it clean. “I’m not gonna lie, either. I get off on everything we do.” She leaned up and whispered, “Especially when you talk wicked to me.”

“In that case.” He pulled her closer. “The caveman in me likes seeing you suck my cock, fuck my cock, and wear my come.”

“Then maybe you should fuck me while I’m covered in it.”

“Careful, darlin’. You’re taunting a hungry lion.”

“Am I taunting?” She ran her finger through his come and sucked it clean. “Or offering?”

A guttural growl escaped as he hauled her into a passionate kiss, chest to chest, their bodies flush, bound by the sticky remnants of their passion.

AFTER THEY SHARED a shower and another orgasm, Baz was playing with Brennan in his bouncy seat in the kitchen, tickling him to earn that gummy grin and saying things to earn Emerson’s radiant smile. She was barefoot, wearing cutoffs and a flowy batik top, swaying and singing to the music streaming from her phone as she made pancakes. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She kept turning toward him, singing into the spatula about him doing her dirty. He shook his head and she laughed, singing louder.

These were the moments he’d miss most while he was away. When it was just the three of them easing into the day. He was looking forward to riding with the guys this afternoon, but he no longer felt like he’d lose his fucking mind if he didn’t hit the open road the way he had before Emerson and Brennan came into his life. How could so much change in three months?

“Favorite Kind of High” came on, and she picked up her pace, swinging her hips faster, singing the chorus to him.

“Keep dancing like that, and as soon as Brennan goes down for his morning nap, this fine ass is going to be mine again.” He grabbed her butt, tugging her into a kiss. “I’ve got to change Bren. I’ll be right back.”

“Pancakes will be ready in a sec,” she called after him.

He went into Brennan’s room to get a diaper and was just finishing changing him when someone knocked at the door. He picked up Brennan and went to answer it, but Emerson beat him to it.

“Hello, Emerson.”

The unfamiliar male voice had Baz’s protective urges rising as he went to her, sizing up the pretty boy with thick black hair and light-brown skin standing on the porch. Baz had a few inches and at least twenty pounds on him, but he didn’t like the look in the guy’s eyes.

“Marco?” she said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk about our son.”

Baz’s gut seized and then it roiled. “You mean Emerson’s son.”

“No. I mean our son.”

“The son you wanted nothing to do with?” Baz seethed, handing Brennan to Emerson and stepping between them. “Where the hell were you when he was born? When he was up all night with colic? When he got a cold and couldn’t sleep unless he was upright?” Driven by the threat of Brennan being taken away, he plowed forward, backing the guy down the steps. “Where the fuck were you when Emerson was eight months pregnant and moving by herself?”