Page 41 of Betrayed Knocked-Up Mate

She's even more beautiful than I remembered. The moonlight streaming through the window paints her skin in silver, highlighting the graceful slope of her shoulders, the elegant line of her collarbone. My hands explore reverently, tracing the curves and planes of her body as if committing them to memory. I cup her breasts, marveling at their perfect weight in my palms, the way her nipples harden at my touch. I squeeze, gently at first, then hard, rough, possessive. I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to.

Camila arches into me, a soft moan escaping her lips as I lower my head to taste her skin. I trail open-mouthed kisses along her neck, savoring the salt-sweet flavor of her. My teeth graze her pulse point, drawing a shudder from her that I feel to my very core.

"Mine," I growl again, nipping at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. I trace the subtle ridges of her ribs, the taut plane of her stomach, the flare of her hips. My fingers dip beneath the waistband of her jeans, teasing the soft skin there. I'm consumed by her scent, her taste, the feel of her under my hands.

Camila's fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me closer as I lavish attention on her breasts. I take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak before sucking hard. She cries out, back arching off the desk. My free hand kneads her other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple between my fingers.

"Marcus," she gasps, voice thick with need. "Please..."

I growl against her skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her stomach. My hands find the button of her jeans, fumbling in my haste to undress her.

I yank the denim down her legs, tossing it aside carelessly. My hands roam back up her thighs, reveling in the silky smoothness of her skin. I grip her hips, pulling her to the edge of the desk as I drop to my knees before her.

Camila's most primal scent envelops me, intoxicating and hot. I press my face to the juncture of her thighs, inhaling deeply. She whimpers, fingers tangling in my hair as I nuzzle against her through the thin fabric of her underwear.

"Please," she breathes again, hips canting towards my mouth. Desperate, needy, out of her mind with desire.

I growl low in my throat, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties and tearing them away. The scrap of lace falls forgotten to the floor as I feast my eyes on her, spread out before me like a banquet.

My hands slide up her thighs, pushing them further apart. I trace the crease where leg meets hip, reveling in the way she shivers at my touch. My thumbs brush teasingly over her outer lips, already slick with arousal.

"So wet for me," I murmur, voice rough with desire.

I part her folds with my fingers, exposing her most intimate places to my hungry gaze. She's flushed and swollen, glistening with need. I can't resist any longer.

I slide one finger inside her, groaning at the tight, wet heat that envelops me, then a second, relishing the way she clenches around me. My thumb finds her clit, circling the sensitive bud as I pump my fingers in and out. Camila moans, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"That's it," I growl, curling my fingers to stroke that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "Let me hear you."

I set a punishing pace, fingers thrusting deep and hard. My other hand grips her hip, holding her in place as she writhes beneath me. I can feel her getting close, inner walls fluttering around my fingers.

"Marcus," she gasps, voice high and breathy. "Oh god, Marcus, please..."

I can feel her trembling on the edge, so close to release. But I'm not ready to let her fall just yet. I slow my movements, drawing out each thrust of my fingers until she's whimpering with frustration.

"Not yet," I growl, nipping at her inner thigh. "I'm not done with you."

I withdraw my fingers, ignoring her cry of protest. I straighten and flip her over in one fluid motion, pressing her chest to the cold desk. My hand on her upper back holds her in place as I kick her legs further apart.

Camila gasps, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wood. I run my free hand down her spine, savoring the way she arches into my touch. My fingers dip between her legs again, teasing her slick folds.

"Please," she begs, voice muffled against the desk.

I position myself behind her, the heat of her body calling to me like a siren's song. My hands grip her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as I pull her back against me. The head of my cock slides through her folds, gathering her slickness. Camila whimpers, trying to push back, to take me inside, hips grinding needily upward, but I hold her still.

"Patience," I growl, though I'm barely hanging onto my own control.

I tease her mercilessly, rubbing the length of my shaft against her sensitive flesh. Each pass draws a desperate sound from her lips, her hips jerking in my grasp. I can feel her trembling, smell the heady scent of her arousal. It's intoxicating, driving my wolf wild with the need to claim, to possess.

"Marcus," she pleads, voice thick with need. "Please, I need—”

"Tell me what you need," I growl, nipping at her shoulder. "I want to hear you say it."

Camila whimpers, frustration and desire warring in her voice. "You know what I need."

"Say it,"I insist, grinding against her. "Beg for it."

She's trembling beneath me, every muscle taut with need. I can smell her arousal, heady and intoxicating. My hands roam her body possessively, kneading her breasts, trailing down her sides to grip her hips.

---