She gave a soft groan and rolled onto her back. ‘I’m not sure I can be quiet with you,’ she whispered, brushing her fingers across the cotton of his boxers.
He gritted his teeth, her clever touch torturing him. Then gave a low groan as his fingers found the wet, swollen folds of her sex.
His breath rasped out as he stroked and circled the nub of her clitoris with his thumb.
She stiffened, moaned, spurring on the hunger, the need.
‘Don’t come,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’ He had to be inside her, the demand clutching at his gut like a wild beast as he levered himself up, settled over her. Dragging off her nightgown, he flung it aside. ‘Are you on the pill? I’m safe.’
She nodded, her eyes wide.
Thank God. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t take the time to find the damn condoms and put one on.
Clutching her hips, forcing her legs wide, he impaled her in one long, solid stroke. She sobbed, bit her lip, as her sex clenched and released, then tightened around him.
He established a rhythm, pressing his hand to her mouth to catch her muffled scream as she arched under him, her muscles convulsing as she came. He struggled to cling on, to keep a stranglehold on the need, but then the last thin thread snapped. The vicious orgasm slammed into him with the unstoppable force of a runaway train—hard and fast and explosive.
Cal waited for his heartbeat to ease out of the danger zone.
‘I should have used a condom,’ he murmured, feeling dazed and embarrassed. What had just come over him? Where had that all-consuming need come from? And why hadn’t he been able to control it?
Her chin lifted, those dark eyes steady on his as she flattened her palm against his chest. ‘I’m safe. I’ve never done it without proper protection before.’
The practicality had his heartbeat slowing a little.
He covered her hand. ‘Me neither.’
She yawned, cradling her head on his shoulder. ‘I guess that’s another first for us both, then,’ she said, her voice thick with fatigue. The murmured observation made his blood pressure shoot back up as her body relaxed into sleep.
Pulling up the sheet to cover them both, he smoothed it over her lush figure with unsteady hands and gazed out of the window. A million stars winked back at him, their brilliance lighting up the night sky as they never did in London. Unfortunately they failed to illuminate the events of the last twenty minutes.
Why the hell had he done that? Confiding the sordid details of his parents’ marriage? And where had that frantic desire to possess her come from? He’d never taken a woman without a condom before—but not just for personal safety reasons. He’d never trusted one before enough to risk the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy.
She shifted against his side, and he stared at the top of her head, the rich red-brown curls glossy in the moonlight. So what had made him so sure he could trust Ruby?
He eased out a careful breath.
All right, fatigue was making him crazy. Ruby was smart, and he knew how much her business meant to her. She was far too intelligent, far too focused to risk an unplanned pregnancy. That was how he knew he could trust her.
But as he listened to the gentle murmur of her breathing his heartbeat continued to hammer in his throat. Trusting Ruby not to lie about birth control was one thing, losing control of himself like that quite another.
He pressed his hand to his chest. She’d got to him somehow, he thought wearily as he willed himself to drift into a fitful sleep.
He’d have to make sure it didn’t happen again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘NOW, we can have pink icing or blue,’ Ruby offered, whipping the butter into a creamy mass. ‘What do you reckon, Mia?’
‘Pink!’ The little girl bounced onto her toes and clapped her hands.
Ruby added the drops of colouring to the mix as Maddy rushed into the room trailing a bunch of balloons.
‘Thanks so much for doing this.’ Maddy riffled through the kitchen drawers. ‘There it is.’ She held a roll of ribbon aloft. Plopping into one of the kitchen chairs, she began threading the ribbon through the bunch of balloons. ‘That cake smells delicious.’
‘Good.’ Ruby smiled, handing Mia the punnet of fresh strawberries they’d washed and hulked together. ‘I need you to pick out your favourites, Mia, because only the very best can end up on a birthday cake.’
The child stopped bouncing and held the punnet as if she had been given the crown jewels. ‘Yes, Miss Ruby.’