Page 102 of The Duke's Virgin

I went to catch her butt to lift her up, but even as I did so, I felt the hard press of her belly and stopped. She convulsed around me, the milking contractions of her pussy more intense, the silken walls sweeter.

She reached for me and moved lower, but she continued to tug. “Come here.”

“I don’t…” I glanced at her belly. “I don’t want to crush her.”

A laugh snickered out of her. “She’s barely two inches long. I think she’ll be fine. Come here.” She didn’t wait for me to respond, rearing up and curling her hand around my neck and pulling me down.

Our mouths were already fused together before she hit the padded cushion, tongues rubbing in welcome. The soft, full weight of her breasts pillowed my chest, and she whimpered when I thrust deeper, harder. “More,” she moaned.

“I won’t hurt you?”

“You’re hurting menow.” She bit my lower lip and urged me on. “Please Luka…”

I couldn’t deny her anything then. Gathering her up, I thrust harder, filling her and reveling in the warm, wet feel of her, of each moan, the bite of her nails through my shirt…inher. An ache spread through my chest, but this time, it didn’t bother me.

It was because of her, and she was here, and it all made sense now.

She wailed under me, rocking against me madly, and I grabbed her hips, lifting her up.

She came, and I didn’t even bother trying to hold back anymore.

* * *

“We should getup and get dressed.”

I smoothed a hand down her back. “I’m quite content like this.”

“Emmett and his parents will be back eventually. We can’tstaylike this.”

“I don’t see why—”

The sound of an engine broke over the rain.

Stacia jolted upright, staring at me in wide-eyed surprise for a few seconds before fumbling free of my arms. I wasn’t entirely happy with the situation, but it was probably wise, so I didn’t stop her.

She smoothed her top down, then her skirt, looking around frantically.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where my panties are!”

I hitched up my pants and fastened them then checked my pocket. I smiled at her. “They’re in my pocket.”

“Oh.” She blew out a breath and pushed her hands through her hair.

I smoothed my shirt down, listening to the sound of the engine as it drew near.

Stacia grabbed my hand. “We need to get inside.”

Amused at her embarrassed expression, I said, “Does it look more compromising for us to be standing out here?”

She glared at me.

I stepped up to her and smoothed my hands down her arms. “Relax. They won’t be able to tell.”

She blew a breath and pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “I hope not. Besides, it’s too late now.”

I turned just in time to see the big black truck Emmett loved to brag about as it pulled into its space behind the house. Emmett jumped out and all but ran up the stairs. He had an annoyed expression on his face as he looked from Stacia to me. His gaze lingered on her for a long moment, and something about the protectiveness on his face put every possessive instinct I had on red alert.

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