“No one will know,” he whispers against my lips, offering me a bite of the poisonous apple he is holding. It is red, delicious, and with just one bite, I know I cannot stop.
“We’ll know.”
The cool air graces my mouth, and he has pulled away, yet still lingers only inches from my face. Staring deeply into my eyes, his pupils dilate, and I see the fire burning deep within, the passion and desperation reflecting back at me. With his glasses removed, his bare face draws me in, and this intimate moment between us allows me to study his face in a way I have previously only dreamed about. Running my fingertips along the contour of his cheekbones, I teasingly drag my finger against his bottom lip. I adore his lips.
“Presley,” he commands my name, owning it as if I belong to him, but then he bites the corner of his lip and softens his gaze. “I want to do this for you.”
Wait, he wants to do it for me?
Rational Presley would punch the Jerk in the face for such a comment!
How dare he turn this around on me, like he is doing me a favor. My body automatically tenses, and my fists curl. That beautiful face of his is about to see stars.
I place my hands against his chest to open the distance between us.
“I just think that—”
Frustratingly, he interrupts me once again. “Don’t think, Presley.”
He’s resting his palm against my cheek, and I lean into it, uncertain how my emotions have so quickly shifted. I’ve longed for the comfort and touch of the man who was inside me. His blood is running through the veins of our unborn child. This intimate moment between us, this simple touch, is the validation I need to allow my body to completely give into him—once again.
The tip of his tongue runs across my bottom lip until it sneaks into my mouth and slowly gains momentum. Soft, sensual swirls heighten the throbs persisting in all the spots that haven’t been touched for a long time. I can’t control the way my body is responding to him, and being pregnant is surprisingly driving my hormones to a level of pure insanity from how much I want him inside me right now.
He knows what he does to me.
I know he knows.
But do I do the same for him?
Moving his palm to the base of my neck, I gasp into his mouth at the sheer intimacy of his touch. His mouth lingers around my chin, moving slightly to his left until he is positioned at the base of my earlobe. The anticipation, his words, they will no doubt destroy me and take me to a place of pure ecstasy that I have never experienced in all my years.
“I want to take this slow. Make every fantasy I’ve had of you come alive.”
My breath hitches, and my body presses against his. His hardness against my thigh is driving me crazy. The fantasy of his cock, pierced and sitting in my mouth, is becoming a reality, and my patience wears thin. My hands move on their own accord, running through his soft hair and scratching down his back, causing him to arch and flex his muscles into my hands. Burying his weak moans into my shoulder, his teeth grip onto my skin with a gentle bite, and his hands lose all sense of control as they travel into the gap of my tank, exposing my breasts.
Even in the dark, his eyes glow fiercely, and the ravaging noises escaping his throat drown with the frantic kisses placed all over my very full breasts. My nipples are hard, and every flick of his tongue drives me to moan louder into his hair as I try to control the way my body is reacting.
“Let yourself go, Presley. Let me have all of you.”
He continues to fondle my breasts, taking turns, not wanting to unfairly leave any part of me unattended. I allow my body to relax, enjoying the attention and new sensations. I shift to the side, and my sudden movement throws him off. Without a word, he searches my
face for an explanation.
“The baby… I don’t want to squash the baby.”
Truth be told, I’m terrified of it happening.
Haden appears amused yet continues his mission of having all of me. His hands slowly wander down my torso, caressing the bump in my stomach.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “And mine.”
Trailing kisses down my body, he stops at the top of my boxers and waits, leaving me to do the unthinkable—beg him to go down.
With a playful grin, he tells me, “You don’t play fair, Malone.”
“Who said anything about playing fair?” I smirk, gently tugging his hair.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”