He was staring at where their bodies were interlocked, sweat now beading his face as he swallowed convulsively. His fingers clenched on her hips. The muscles in his thighs tightened and he began to withdraw. Slowly, so slowly.
Emily dragged in a whimpering breath, both at the retreat as well as the sensations. She wouldn’t push it. She wouldn’t demand. Having Kell’s baby would be more joy than she could imagine, but—
A ragged, tortured groan left his throat. A second later, he was buried inside her once more and he didn’t stop. His hips moved quickly, hard. Each thrust built in pleasure, the feel of his flesh bare inside hers, the stretching heat, the need building and b
uilding as she kept her gaze locked on him.
She had to. If she didn’t center herself she would fly away. She would explode into fragments that might never find form again.
She arched in front of him, her fingers digging into the blankets as the thrusts increased. Her ragged cries, his male groans. They blended, forming an erotic, sexual tune that whipped around them in ever-increasing force.
The pleasure rose. It burned. It had her crying out his name, desperate for ease even as she fought to keep her gaze on the mirror, fought to watch his face. His lips.
Lips that were parting as she began to come apart. His teeth were clenched as she began to convulse around him, pleasure fragmenting inside her a second before she saw his expression twist. Agony and ecstasy. Her name on his lips, and then more.
I love you, Emily. He mouthed the words as his eyes closed and he began to jerk, the feel of his release spurting inside her dragging her from the last mooring that held her to earth.
I love you.
There was no sound to the words. Only his lips moving. Only his eyes closed, his expression absorbed, tight with emotion and a male pleasure too sexy to endure.
Emily heard herself scream his name. She felt the shudders shaking her body as she tried to twist out of his grip to escape the sensations that suddenly built upon themselves. Pleasure upon pleasure, explosion upon explosion, until she collapsed to the bed, exhausted. Drained. And holding her secret close to her heart.
Kell loved her. As surely as she knew she loved him, he loved her. And for some reason, he didn’t want her to know. He didn’t want to give the words voice, and instead kept them silent as his expression twisted with an inner agony. As he lowered himself beside her, still buried in her, still holding her close, he clasped her in his arms as though he feared she would be torn from them.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered at her ear. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Emily felt her heart drop to her stomach. That was regret in his voice. Not fear. Heavy, remorseless regret.
“No harm done,” she whispered. “It’s the wrong time of the month anyway.”
What the hell was she supposed to say? Okay, it wasn’t a foolproof method, but it was true nonetheless. The time of the month couldn’t be safer, and yet the ache in her heart couldn’t have gone deeper. Having his baby wouldn’t have been a hardship for her. Holding him to her wouldn’t have bothered her either.
She felt his hand move over her hair, felt the heavy sigh at her back before he slowly eased from her body.
Then he was tucking her beneath the sheets and settling in beside her; the light beside the bed flipped off before his arms were around her again.
And Emily was staring into the dark, blinking back her tears and wondering what the hell had happened.
EMILY WAS SURPRISED WHEN HER father arrived at the house just as they had finished breakfast and were preparing to leave the house.
Ian stepped into the dining room and announced his arrival then stood in the marble foyer as the senator entered surrounded by Reno, Clint, and Macey. His expression was heavy, and the SEALs surrounding him looked—violent.
“What’s happened?” She moved toward him, reacting to the fury in his gaze before he caught her in his arms and surrounded her in a hug that reeked of fear.
“Reno?” She heard Kell’s voice behind her, dark, brooding, and prepared.
Emily stared at the SEAL behind her father. Macey. With his ragged haircut, the earring in his ear, faded denim shirt with the arms ripped out, and ragged jeans, he looked more like a biker than a computer expert. He had hams for hands and his broad-shouldered physique, like that of the others, didn’t possess an ounce of fat.
A heavy frown creased his face now, rather than the flirty twinkle his eyes usually held. And a frown marred his brow. Something had happened and it wasn’t good.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” she asked as he finally released her, moving back to breathe out roughly, to stare at her as though he wasn’t certain she was really there.
“Get ready to roll,” Reno ordered Kell. “You’ll proceed to the safe house we’ve set up for Ms. Stanton and stay in place until further orders.”
Emily stared at the hard-eyed SEALs, then at her father.
“Daddy, what’s happened?”