Page 64 of Cross Me

Still, it wasn’t easy to pull away. Not with her eager mouth protesting. My erection bobbed in the cool air and I felt my balls ache. Reaching down, I guided her onto her feet.

“X,” she said in a disapproving tone, but I stopped her objection with a kiss that effectively silenced any complaints. Clara dissolved into me and my hands slid down to knead her ass.

“Do you know why I love when you disobey me?” I asked against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” She was half here, half in a dream. I loved seeing her like this—undone and willing.

“Because it gives me an excuse to spank you.” I smacked her ass with a hard thwack and she startled out of her daze. I winked as I rubbed the skin still hot from my palm. “I’m mostly kidding.”

“I don’t think you’re kidding at all.”

I raised an eyebrow. She might be right about that. I was about to admit that, but her lips crushed against mine again. I allowed the kiss to deepen as I reached down and stroked my cock against the soft skin of her lower belly. After a few minutes, she drew back and glared at me.

“Are you going to use that?” she asked impatiently.

“You want this?” I smirked. I loved hearing her say it—hearing her beg for it.

“I’m not groveling for what’s mine.” She grabbed my cock as if to make her point. I scooped her off her feet and dropped her on the edge of my desk. Sweeping aside papers and pens and photos, I pushed her onto her back and thrust inside her before she could continue her argument. Clara’s legs wrapped around my waist and I gripped her hips as I pounded until my balls began to tighten.

It was raw and real, but unlike the last few times we’d fucked, she was with me—giving and taking. We needed this. We needed to feel each other.

“I want to feel you coming on my cock,” I urged her, moving a hand so my thumb could press to her overworked clit. The reaction was instant. She rocketed up, her fingers sinking into my chest for leverage as my own orgasm exploded inside her. Her hips circled, milking me until we collapsed against one another.

It took effort to get Clara dressed without telling her that Edward would be here any moment. I wanted a few more moments with her before our world shifted on its axis, which was made trickier by the fact she was a boneless heap who seemed quite content to stay half-naked on my desk forever.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind,” she said dreamily, rolling to the side and pulling her legs up.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t,” I said, rubbing her back and considering the offer, “but it would make taking meetings harder.”

She smiled, dropping a hand to her belly. “By the way, you woke someone up.”

“What?” I said, forgetting for a moment that we were running out of time. “This early?”

“I’m past four months,” she reminded me.

“Can I?” I asked.

“Probably not yet, but I doubt it will be long,” she said dryly. “I think he’s going to be strong like daddy.”

“Him, huh?”

“This time I’m sure.” Clara had been convinced that Elizabeth was a boy until a sonogram had revealed otherwise. “Care to make a wager?”

I leaned down and kissed the place where my child grew. “Why bother? You’re having my baby. I win either way.”

A loud knock shattered the domestic glow and Clara bolted out of her position, pointing to her pants frantically while running a hand up to discover her loose bun had fallen out. She twisted it frantically into place. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Just a moment,” I called, hoping Edward heard and didn’t let himself in. “Edward’s here. We need to talk.”

“I’ll get out of your way.” She shimmied into her pants.

I took a deep breath. “Actually, we all need to talk.”

She abandoned her efforts to fix herself up. “Why?”

“It’s easier if I tell you both at the same time.”

Her eyes narrowed.