He leans in to kiss me, and I taste coffee and mint on his tongue. His kiss is gentle at first, but I reach down and grab the bulge growing in his pants and he moans into my mouth, deepening the kiss until his fingers are tangled in my hair. When we finally come up for air, his hand is at my breast, tugging my nightgown down to give him access to my nipple. He takes it in his mouth and sucks. They’re so sensitive I feel like he ignites a hot wire from my tits straight to my pinkness. I’m instantly wet. He plays with me, licking one nipple and then the other, gently taking them between his teeth and tugging. I feel him getting harder under my hand, and rub over his pants, encouraging him on.
His hand traces over the growing swell of my belly and then rests right above my entrance. I try to scoot closer to him, to wiggle my body to force his hand lower, but my movement is limited these days.
“Touch me, Kent,” I whisper. And when he glides two fingers up and down my lips, I beg, “Please.”
Finally, he dips a finger inside me, just to the first knuckle, and I bear down, seeking more. He pumps his fingertip inside me, teasing me, knowing that it’s not enough, it won’t be enough, and he whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want.”
I want everything in this moment. I want his mouth on me, his cock inside, his nimble fingers on my soft... everything. My appetite for this man is endless. My head feels like it’s spinning as he drags a wet finger up to my folds. I startle when he finally makes contact with my most sensitive spot, sliding over me, drawing figure eights with greater and greater pressure until I sling a leg over his hips, moving my body with his rhythm, urging him to keep going, never stop.
“I’m getting close,” I pant, running my fingers through his hair, looking at him as he looks at me. He smirks and kisses me. “Not without me,” he says, and then the bastard breaks contact. I’m about to protest when I realize he’s getting up on his knees and stripping off his tee shirt. He reaches down and quickly undoes his belt, awkwardly fumbling on the bed to remove his boxers and jeans. Kent is on his knees and his cock is hard, jutting out at me. He strokes himself from the base to the tip and back down again. He’s putting on a show. He reaches down to my entrance again and coats his fingers in my juices, then uses that hand to touch himself with short strokes at the crown. I watch as he gets harder. As the head of his cock swells and darkens, how his pec muscles jump under his tanned skin. And the whole time his eyes are on me. Watching how I react, enjoying the look of hunger that’s so apparent on my face.
I’ve seen him naked probably thousands of times already, but still, every time it takes my breath away. Mine, the animal inside me roars. That perfect body is mine: to taste, to touch, to use for my pleasure, to put babies inside me and to protect me.
Finally he lies down beside me on his side, his head just inches from mine on the pillow. He runs a hand over my inner thigh and then pulls it back so it’s resting over his hip. In this position he can easily enter me, and he wastes no time, guiding his cock inside me, slowly. His face transforms as he goes, and I relish this moment, seeing just how much he needs this as I do.
He’s gentle at first, making sure I’m comfortable, trying not to jostle me too much. This is what it’s been like for a couple of months since I really started showing. No matter how often I’ve told him he can’t hurt me or the baby, he starts off tentatively, as if I’m made of glass. But it never lasts. He’s moving in slow strokes. I can feel every inch of him, and when he angles himself slightly lower, he scrapes over my g-spot again and again. A benefit of pregnancy. Everything in my body is more sensitive, and fucking me like this, I could come in seconds.
“Harder, Kent,” I urge him on, and I can feel his rhythm falter. He’s at war with himself. The protector in him wants to go slow, keep me safe, but the animal inside him, I know what he wants. And I know that animal, that feral lover, will eventually win.
“I want you to feel good,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want this for you.”
But his actions belie his words, and his hand on my breast is squeezing, hard. He starts thrusting faster, and my tits bounce as he penetrates me, and I know that makes him even more turned on.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight. So damn hot.”
He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face toward his. He devours my mouth, and I feel his stubble scraping my face, and I feel his hand almost painfully squeezing my breast, and I’m about to come undone. I can’t hear the ocean in the distance, or any sounds from the street. Everything is muffled as I start to rise, as my body builds toward an exquisite release. Faster and faster he hits me in just the right spot, and it’s inevitable now.
“Oh shit,” I moan. “I’m coming, Kent. Don’t stop.”
His hand is in my hair, our foreheads are pressed together, and as the first wave breaks over me, my vision blacks out momentarily, but when it comes back, I see Kent’s s eyes, still staring at me. My body shakes as pleasure sweeps through me, and then seconds later I see the same on Kent’s face. He thrusts into me a final, hard time, and then goes rigid. I feel his hot cum pulsing into me. And though his lips are closed tight, the sound coming from deep inside him is loud, filling the room, rumbling in his chest so I feel the vibration against my body.
We lie there panting together, Kent’s cock still inside me. He lazily trails his fingers up and down my belly, peppering my face with small kisses.
I break the pleasant silence. “I should get up now, I guess,” I say.
“Or you could just go back to sleep,” he says, smoothing down my hair, nuzzling my ear. “You won’t have too many mornings to sleep in once the baby comes. Your clients’ emails and calls can wait.”
He plays with my hair and my eyes start to flutter closed. I hear the ocean, just yards away from my window, and feel the strong body of the man I love against me. Sleep begins to blanket me, and it feels so delicious to allow it to take me away.
“Love you, Perri,” Kent whispers in my ear.
I’m too far gone to say it back, but I give him a small smile, and I know he knows.
A year and a half ago I came to this town thinking I was getting my big break. That I’d finally achieve something that I’d had my heart set on for so long. Life works in funny ways, because that day when I first saw Kent, I was actually walking into my future that I didn’t even know I’d wanted. How damn lucky is that?
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Also by Penny Wylder
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Forbidden Bride
Chapter One
Tristan
It feels like it’s been a decade since I’ve set foot in this bar, even though it hasn’t even been half that long. Almost four years to the day since I put all of my shit in my car and drove out of Leighton City without looking back.
I honestly didn’t think that I’d ever be back here. The guilt and the temptation were too much, and I wasn’t going to be the kind of man that ruined a family. Ever.
But these four years have taught me a lot, and life away from Leighton City never really panned out the way I hoped. I never lost touch with most of my friends, and all of them—especially Bruce—never understood why I left in the first place. I never told them. I made up a story about needing to get out of town and having a good job offer and a million other little lies that made them ask fewer questions. But they probably all knew that it was
bullshit. I’m glad they never found out the real reason that I left, even if it’s still going to cause me problems now.
A little cliché, but I can’t do anything about that. I left town because of a girl.
“Tristan!”