Page 127 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

“I love you too,” I finally whisper. “I’ve loved you all along.”

His eyes darken with something intense, something raw, and before I can say another word, his lips are on mine.

He guides me into the shop, closing the door and drawing the curtains back.

Our kiss is filled with every emotion we’ve been holding back, longing, relief, love. His hands cup my face, his thumbs sweeping gently over my cheeks as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. He kisses me like a man starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. And maybe he has. Maybe we both have.

I sigh into his mouth, parting my lips for him, letting him deepen the kiss. A shiver runs down my spine as his hands slide down to my waist, holding me firmly against him.

We break apart only when the need for air becomes too much, our foreheads resting against each other as we catch our breath.

“I don’t want there to be any more distance between us,” I murmur.

“There won’t be. Not anymore.”

Without warning, he lifts me effortlessly, his strong hands gripping my ass tightly as he carries me to the counter near the back.

As I wrap my legs around his waist, his heart pounds against my ribs.

He sets me down on the cool surface, my back pressing against it, the wood hard beneath me.

His gaze is intense, he brushes his lips against mine, softer this time, but no less hungry.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His breath burns hot against my skin.

His hands slide up my thighs, spreading me wide, his fingers brushing against my core.

He groans softly when he finds me already wet, my body betraying my eagerness for him.

A smirk plays on his lips as he hikes up my dress, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. With deliberate slowness, he slides them off, his eyes never leaving mine.

Before he can take me, I reach down, my fingers tracing his thick cock through his pants.

“You’re so hard for me,” I whisper, my voice thick with need.

My hand traces him through the fabric, feeling his thickness, his heat, my thumb brushing against the damp spot that has formed.

Valentino groans, his control slipping. “Fuck, Layla.”

He shoves his pants down his thighs, freeing himself, his length throbbing in my hand.

I squeeze him gently.

“Fuck.” His voice a low growl.

But I don’t stop. I stroke him slower, my hand gripping the length of him, and my thumb swirling around the sensitive head. “I like seeing you like this.”

Precum leaks from his tip.

“So hard, so needy for me.”

His breath hitches, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he fights for control.

“Tease,” he mutters, but not stopping me.

Instead, he positions himself between my legs, his cock pressing against my entrance.

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