Pregnant With The Billionaire's Baby. Carol Marinelli
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Название: Pregnant With The Billionaire's Baby

Автор: Carol Marinelli

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474051156

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ back the coverlet, he then laid Faith onto the bed.

      She looked around the room, her expression going from curious to surprised. “This is your room.”

      He locked the door and returned to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. “Where else would I take you?”

      “I don’t know.” She licked her lips, her focus on his chest as he peeled the shirt from his body. “You’re such an incredibly sexy man, you know?”

      “You have mentioned believing so before.”

      She laughed, the sound husky and warm. “I meant it then and I mean it now. I love looking at you.”

      “I thought it was men who were supposed to be the visual sex.”

      “Maybe.” She shrugged, kicking her sandals off. “Maybe if all women had such yummy eye candy to look at, we’d be considered the visual sex, too.”

      “So, I am eye candy?”

      She licked her lips as if tasting something really sweet and nodded.

      His sex jolted at memories of what it felt like to be partaken of by that delectable little tongue. “I think you are a minx.”

      “You think?”

      “I know.”

      She gave him a saucy wink and stretched her body, putting her curves on sensual display.

      He shook his head but knew he had no hope of clearing it. He’d been here before with this woman, so filled with desire that everything else was just a gray fog around them. He unzipped his slacks, hissing as the parting fabric made way for his steel-hard manhood.

      This woman affected him like no other.

      “I love it when you make that sound.”

      “You are the only one who has ever heard it.” With his admission, he stripped off the remainder of his clothes—the need to deflect automatic.

      “Really?” she asked, nevertheless.

      “Yes.” He joined her on the bed, on all fours above her. “I want you naked.”

      She brushed her hand down his flank. “I like naked.”

      He could no more suppress the growl her touch evoked than he could the need to return it. He brought their mouths together again as he reached down and caressed her through the silk of her dress. All evening he had wanted to do this, to feel the curves he knew intimately through the thin fabric. Regardless of how surreal the night had been, his desire for her was as strong as always, building with each minute he was in her company.

      She moaned into the kiss, arching into his touch, begging silently for more.

      And more was what he was an expert at giving her. He would remind her of that. Show her that each time could be better than the last.

      He continued the strokes along her breasts, the dip of her waist and bow of her hips. Over and over again, he touched the places on her body that he knew drove her wild.

      Her hands were busy, too, skimming along his heated skin, kneading his chest, but best of all was when she grabbed him—her fingers digging into his shoulders with white-knuckle intensity. When she got to this point—where she could no longer concentrate on pleasuring him—he knew she was past thought. Past control.

      Exactly where he wanted her to be.

      IT WAS TIME to take her clothes off. He did, using the opportunity to tease and tantalize her further. But revealing her peaches-and-cream body was a double-edged sword. The light smattering of freckles over her shoulders and upper breasts were his downfall. She had none on her face, so the cinnamon dots felt secret—private—for him alone. A special knowledge shared just between them. He was tempted to count them—with kisses—every time he got her disrobed.

      This time was no different.

      The allure of her body for him never diminished.

      He traced the light dots on her skin. “You are so beautiful.”

      “You’ve got an unnatural affection for my freckles.” It might be a full sentence, but the way she said it, breathless with pauses between words, told him that she was no more in possession of her faculties than she had been a moment before.

      “You think?” he asked against her silken skin, tasting the brown sugar dots that his mind told him could not be sweet but his tongue told him they were. But then, everything about her was sweet.

      Dangerously so.

      Her only answer was a moan as his lips trailed the natural path to one pebbled nipple. She shuddered beneath him, her body translating her every feeling with sexy clarity. She loved nipple play and he loved tasting and touching the turgid buds.

      He delicately licked the very tip, then circled the peak with his tongue, moving slowly to lave her aureole despite the need riding him hard enough to make him ache. He refused to rush this. He had something to prove to her.

      He kept at it until even the act of huffing a warm breath over her sensitized skin made her tremble and whimper. Then he moved to minister in the same way to its twin.

      “What are you doing? Tormenting me?” she cried out as he sucked her nipple gently into his mouth.

      He lifted his head and met peacock blue eyes glazed with pleasure. “I am giving you more.”

      “I don’t want more. I want you in me.” Then she bit her lip as if realizing what she’d said.

      “Trust me, this—” he carefully slid two fingers into her superbly lubricated, swollen channel “—this is where I wish to be also, but only when I have given you more.” He thrust with his fingers, hitting that interior bundle of nerves some women referred to as their G-spot.

      She cried out, the sound adding to his own arousal, making it harder to wait, but he would.

      Tonight would be spectacular.

      He continued to massage her as he leaned down and once again claimed her mouth as his. Her return kisses were desperate and filled with the feminine fire he found so irresistible.

      Her walls clenched around his fingers as he moved them in and out, stimulating her G-spot with each slow stroke. She undulated, her body straining toward him and moving with those tiny, involuntary jerks that enhanced her pleasure.

      He could feel her need to climax rolling off her in palpable waves of sexual energy. Her little whimpers against his lips were an inarticulate form of begging he’d become addicted to their first time together.

      His Faith did not play mind games or try to hide her physical needs or desires. She expressed them in a dozen different ways, all of which turned him on. Sex with this woman was volcanically hot, but it was also honest. She amazed and delighted him.

      Now СКАЧАТЬ