Page 25 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

So, when his hands trail over to the front of my dress, pressing against my breasts, I let him.

This fake relationship is already blurring the lines of reality, but I’ve gotten in too deep, and there is no going back.

7

VALENTINO

AllIsee,touch,taste is Layla. She lets out a soft moan as I trail little kisses down the front of her neck.

Fuck. I missed her.

I have her pressed against the balcony railing, my hands exploring her body as I plant kisses along her neck.

She throws her head back and then digs her fingers along the sides of my torso.

“I thought this was supposed to be a business arrangement,” she murmurs, her voice breathy.

I smirk against her skin. “We never said we wouldn’t enjoy it.” My voice comes out low and throaty. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

She nods, and I pick her up, bridal style, and begin carrying her to the room.

But the heat of the moment is too intense, and I cannot help myself as I set her down on the sofa in the living room and attach my lips to hers again.

“I thought we were going to the bedroom,” she whispers against my lips.

“Can’t wait.”

I pin her down on the sofa and deepen the kiss between us. My tongue slides against her bottom lip, and she eagerly opens her mouth to allow me access.

I stifle a moan as I taste her more fully.

Are we really going to do this again?

My fingers slide the straps of her dress, pulling them downwards to reveal the lacy bra she has on. It’s red, and my dick hardens more at the sight.

She smiles. “Like what you see?”

“I’d like it better if it was on the floor,” I growl, and my hands go to unclasp the bra.

In a moment, it’s discarded on the floor, and she goes to work with unbuttoning the front of my shirt.

Her movements are frantic, and it seems like we are both eager to rip each other’s clothes off.

Her skin feels sizzling to the touch, and I cannot stop myself from going for more.

My eyes rake over her slowly, hungrily, drinking her in like she’s something I’ll never get enough of.

My gaze lingers on the swell of her breasts, full, soft, rising and falling with each uneven breath she takes.

Her nipples are already pebbled, reacting to the cool air or maybe to the way I’m looking at her, the way my body tenses with need just from standing here, watching.

My jaw tightens as I let my eyes trail lower, over the smooth curve of her waist, the gentle dip of her stomach, the delicious flare of her hips that beg to be held, gripped, owned.

Every inch of her is temptation.

Every inch of her is… perfection.

“I want you,” I whisper as I scrape my mouth against her exposed breasts, using my free hand to feel them.

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