Page 33 of Hidden Heir, Italian Wife

“I would happily get you pregnant again,” he said with primal possessiveness in his eyes. In his voice.

It was such an animalistic thing to say, her pulse lurched.

Then he lined up and pressed. She was so aroused, he slid deep with one claiming thrust, but it still pinched. The burn of his invasion felt good, though. The fullness relieved an emptiness that had been with her since they’d last been like this.

He noticed her flinch and froze.

“Hurt?” His thumb caressed her jaw.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I just really missed this.” She had. There was a dampness behind her eyes that had nothing to do with discomfort and everything to do with how much she had longed for the feel of him.

He set a comforting kiss at the corner of her mouth, then swept his lips across hers in a more carnal kiss. One that drew her back into the sea of passion.

When her knees climbed of their own accord to hug his rib cage, he tucked his hand beneath her tailbone and tilted her hips so he could bury himself an extra fraction of an inch.

They both shuddered.

And when he started to withdraw a moment later, she clung with arms and legs and the inner muscles of her sheath.

“I’m not going anywhere,bella.” He returned in a deep thrust that made all her nerve endings sing. “I’m staying right here for the rest of our lives.”

She could accept his proprietary statement—could even celebrate it—when he delivered so much pleasure. Such a feeling of homecoming and being desired.

For long minutes, nothing existed except the sublime friction of their lovemaking. It was exactly like their first time. Electric. Nearly too much to bear. His skin seared her own. She ran her hands across his shoulders and cupped the sides of his head and reveled in the slow heaviness of his strokes. The controlled power.

She gasped for breath, then sought his kiss again, groaning into his mouth. Trying not to bite his lip as she fought the grunts and groans of wild abandonment.

“Harder,” she begged. “Faster.”

“It has to be slow and quiet.” He wove their fingers together against the mattress, prolonging their pleasure. It became tantric, melding her to him in a way that nothing else could have. She was aroused to the point of wanting to scream. Each stroke was exquisitely erotic.Necessary.

When she was mindless, when nothing else existed but his full ownership of her body, her body surrendered for her. The first waves began to crest over her and his hand fisted into her hair. His fingertips bit into her thigh as his hips cemented to hers.

They tumbled into the abyss.

***

Bree woke a few minutes before her usual alarm. Her bed was only a twin and she was right at the edge. Jax was on his stomach behind her. His knee was crooked so her back and bottom and thighs were curled into the nook of space he had left her.

I like this, was her first thought. Latent satisfaction kept her relaxed as she blinked against the morning gloom, but renewed desire began to stir her nerve endings, especially when she recalled their lovemaking. It had been torture of the most delicious kind.

And a horrible mistake. Because this was exactly what she feared most—beginning to soften toward him and form an attachment, even a physical one. She had been in this situation before. At least with Kabir she had waited to share her body until she’d been more confident in their emotional connection.

It hadn’t kept them together, though. Despite the love they had declared to each other, he had walked away, destroying her sense of self-worth.

Maybe she would fare better in a situation where her expectations were low. Maybe it would be safer to involve herself with a man who gave her terrific orgasms, but didn’t steal pieces of her heart. That way, if he ever did leave her, she wouldn’t be so devastated.

And maybe she was rationalizing sleeping with someone who had already slid past her defenses.

She sat up, trying not to wake him, but had to bite back a groan as her muscles protested. Everything ached in a way that filled her with gratification. She kept the edge of the sheet across her breasts, but the tips peaked with renewed arousal. Her skin pebbled from more than the morning chill.Weakness.

“She’s not up yet, is she?” he asked, voice mostly muffled by the pillow.

“No, but I can’t sleep.” She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at his bare, golden shoulders. His arm snaked around her waist. His wicked lips brushed her lower back.

“We don’t have to.”

Tempting. So tempting.

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