Not now, though. Not in this eternal moment.
He shifted his hands to her hips, his fingers delving into the soft flesh of her buttocks. They continued to devour each other as he rocked her against him, both of them so hungry, so starved for one another. He moved one hand to the back of her head and held her while he ravished her mouth. His lips lowered, feeling hot and voracious on the skin of her neck. She tilted back her chin and arched her back, offering herself to him, lost in a sea of sensation. His hands moved rapidly as he pressed kisses against her neck and shoulders, sweeping aside the fabric of her dress and the straps of her bra. He peeled cloth off her breasts. Mari cried out in abrupt loss when suddenly his mouth was gone, then gasped as his mouth closed over a nipple. She furrowed her fingers through his short hair and held him to her as she whimpered in sublime pleasure. An unbearable ache swelled inside her, a pain she knew would only be silenced by their joining. He continued to tease her flesh with his mouth and tongue until Mari grew desperate. She reached between them, wild to remove the barrier of their clothing. His head rose when he realized what she was doing. His breath came in short, jagged pants against her damp breasts as they fumbled, united in a fury of need.
Her head fell back and she gasped at the sensation of him entering her.
“Look at me.”
She complied with his command. It felt as if she’d explode from the strength of her combined emotion and arousal when she
met his fierce gaze. She rested in his lap, quivering. She felt so full…so inundated with him.
They began to move at the same moment as if by some unspoken agreement. He closed his eyes. A muscle twitched in his cheek. She understood the sweet agony. She experienced it with him.
“You’ve been holding yourself back from me,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes open now, pinning her as she moved over him.
She didn’t reply. Her body spoke for her. It was true, but she wasn’t holding back from him now.
And she made sure he knew it.
She leaned down and scraped her parted lips against his, caressing rather than kissing. She tasted his sweat. Their breaths mingled and the inferno inside her grew. His hold on her hips and buttocks tightened and they both became more demanding, both of the other and themselves.
She wanted to hold onto these seconds forever…never wanted it to end.
If it didn’t end this moment, she would die.
She held on tight to his shoulders and cried out in pleasure as she succumbed. She heard his low, rough growl as he held her down to him, felt his muscles grow rock hard beneath her clutching fingers. Her name was a fierce prayer on his tongue.
The seconds unfolded into minutes as time resumed its normal cadence. Mari pressed her lips against Marc’s pulse as she tried to catch her breath. She felt his leaping heart slow to a steady throb.
Something had happened.
She had the amazingly clear thought through her hazy satiation: She had to tell Marc about the baby, and not just because she was obligated. In that moment she wanted to tell him, longed to complete the link between herself, this vibrant man she held and their growing child with every living cell in her being.
She whimpered in protest when he lifted her, separating them. He groped for his jeans, roughly pulling them up around his hips.
“No. I don’t want it to end,” she murmured.
“It’s not going to end.”
She blinked when she heard the hard edge to his voice. Then he was gathering her to him and standing.
The master bedroom was dim and shadowed. The duvet felt cool against her heated skin when he laid her on his bed. He came down over her.
“It’s only the beginning,” he said in a gruff whisper and his mouth settled on hers.
Mari quickly learned he was right. They made love again and then held each other.
She considered how she would tell him about the baby. Now, perhaps, when they held each other and their desire for one another still lingered around them like a comforting cocoon? Her heart felt so full at the moment, though. She didn’t want to tell him in a rushing torrent of emotion and end up crying on his chest, feeling like a fool.
Perhaps tomorrow while they were out at dinner would be a safer choice, she thought nervously.
“What are you concentrating on so hard?” Marc interrupted her thoughts.
She glanced up at his face, surprised. “Was I?”
He gave her the slow grin that always caused a funny sensation in her belly and brushed a tendril of hair off her brow. “You looked like you were plotting how to break some terrible news. I have a feeling I know what it is.”
She sat up slightly, alarmed. “You do?”