“I’ll wear a condom,” he told her conversationally, “for all the good it’ll do us.”

Gabby found it within herself to laugh, but the sound quickly turned into a moan when he stood and leisurely began to strip the rest of his clothes off…as if he were getting ready to go to bed, not f**k her raw. Then he took his sweet time rolling on the condom, to the point that she almost sat up and did it herself. If she hadn’t gotten such gratification from watching him touch himself, she might’ve done it.

“I’m going to finish myself off and be done with it before you ever get here,” she warned.

“No, you won’t. Because you know you can’t do it like I can. You want this filling you up when you come.”

Oh God, wasn’t that the damn truth. He came back to her at last, nestling close and kissing her beneath her jaw as she spread wider to accommodate him. Again, he teased her, slipping that broad head through her wet folds as he caught his breath and watched her face. She struggled to breathe, her pu**y clenching for him. So close. Right there. Right there and…

“Push, dammit,” she all but yelled at him.

He burst out laughing. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say, like, months from now?”

“Yeah, you’ll get your turn. Right now, it’s mine. Give it to me.”

He gave it to her. He gave her about an inch of it. She strained toward him, but their position hindered her. “Oh, you motherfucker,” she growled, sounding like a woman possessed.

“You’re correct on that one, I guess. I’ve never f**ked a mother before you.”

“Good to know. But this one is begging you to f**k her.”

“Begging? Oh, you haven’t begun to beg yet, Gabriella. Maybe I’ll give it to you like you want it”—he surged into her, ripping the breath from her lungs, and a chorus of angels sang—“and then take it away.” He pulled out and left her empty and panting and without the powers of speech. She wanted to sob. Maybe tears would move him.

“God, you felt good,” he groaned, seeming as affected as she was by that one taste of absolute nirvana. “So good, baby, I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

It was his own fault for holding back so long. “Try it out and see?” she suggested weakly.

“Aww, you sound so sweet now,” he said. He slid back and forth through her folds again, that teasing, torturous movement. Gabby licked her lips and tried not to beg, since it was precisely what he wanted. Then she bit both lips between her teeth. Then she feared she might draw blood.

“Ian!” she burst out. “Fuck me now, or I swear to God I’ll get up, put my clothes on, go home and give my vibrator a workout.”

He shoved into her. She wanted to weep from relief but was so damn wet and ready, she suspected tears might dehydrate her. The stretch of him burned her deep, sizzling along nerve endings that sang with pure bliss. She saw it now. The fuss. The hair-mussing sex. The kind that left marks. The craving for it. She’d had it good before. Very good, she could admit. But she’d never had it like this.

He pounded into her, so thick, so hot. Sweat slicked his skin and she licked at the salt of it at the base of his neck. “Yes, baby, yes,” she crooned into his ear. For that moment, in the all-consuming pleasure of his body above hers, in hers, all her problems were forgotten. There was only this. Only him.

“Are you okay?” he asked around panted breaths.

“Oh yes,” she whispered, drawing the ‘s’ out when he swirled his hips and sent shivers of sweetness up her spine. It wasn’t a screaming orgasm that was about to take her under. It was one that would rob her of breath, voice, everything. She wanted it, she needed it. When he slowed his movements again just as her muscles were tightening in anticipation of the explosion, she whimpered.

“You still haven’t begged to my satisfaction,” he reminded her evilly.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He pulled out. Her wasted body nearly went limp without him inside. She felt as if she were made of hot liquid. It was no damn wonder he’d gotten her pregnant. Jesus, could anything stop him?

“Here, baby, get on top,” he said, sliding off her.

“I can’t.”

“You can. Come on. I feel like I’m crushing you.”

“But you’re not.” She so did not want to move. He’d been giving it to her just like she’d wanted. So began the male pregnancy paranoia? She hoped not. “Get back down here right now.”

Chuckling, he obeyed, surprising her. She wrapped him in her arms and welcomed him back into her body. His nose lingered inches from hers as he moved back and forth, his eyes gazing directly into hers. What was behind them? Maybe she’d find out tonight. She’d try, anyway. If she could stop enticing him to plunder her nether regions long enough.

Ian braced himself on his arms, and she couldn’t resist letting her hands run over the taut muscles of his biceps as he moved down to kiss her breast and gently suck her nipple. Little zings traveled from that precise point to between her legs and back again. Through with begging, she just wanted to lie here and let him love her. Because that was what it felt like now…making love. When he had to leave her again so he could move down and kiss her belly, it was okay this time. Some emotion she couldn’t possibly name engulfed her as he flattened his palm over her belly.

“Amazing,” was all he said, and she stroked his hair, imagining this scene four months from now. Six. Feeling kicks and wiggles and hiccups while he laid his head on her stomach. Would he still be around for that? Would she want him to be? Strange to share this intimacy with someone who was practically a stranger. She’d always imagined sharing it with a husband. With Mark.

But it wasn’t Mark who moved back up her body, kissing his way along until he reached her mouth. She met Ian’s tongue with hers. Met his body with hers, took him back inside. The flames that had abated somewhat roared back to searing life. With strong, steady thrusts, he took her to the edge and pitched her over at last.

The fall was long and intense, Gabby’s every sense focusing on him. The smooth hardness of him, the beauty of his expression collapsing in his own long-awaited climax, the rasp of his breath. That scent they created, the one that was uniquely them. Oh God. She fell and fell, and she landed hard…and she didn’t know where the hell she was anymore.

Chapter Twelve

She kept saying she needed to go home tonight, but Ian couldn’t seem to let her. Every time she tried to move from the bed with its tangled sheets, he grumbled and pulled her close again. She was so warm and smooth.

“I mean it, baby. I know I’m thirty-six freaking years old, but my family—”

“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed. “So it comes out.”

“Shit.” Gabby covered her face. “Okay. Fine. I’m eight damn years older than you.”

His nipped at her neck with his teeth. “You’re the most gorgeous, sexy, f**king amazing thirty-six-year-old woman I’ve ever met.”

“Hmm. I guess it wouldn’t do for you to never know the age of the mother of your child, huh?”

His hand crept down to her naked belly, and he stroked circles around her navel. “How’ve you been feeling? Besides beautifully horny?”