Indefinite (Salvation #6)(51)

Our lips crash together in haste. There are no more words because anything he says after that, I don’t want to hear. His hands are on my neck, controlling my head, moving me from side to side. It’s a sign of power and control, one I welcome.

His tongue slides into my mouth, pushing and fighting for dominance. Quinn’s fingers glide against my neck and cup my breasts, squeezing, and I push back in pain. Well, pregnancy joy number one.

Quinn takes a few steps back, confusion sweeping across his gorgeous face.

“Really fucking tender,” I explain.

His eyes are filled with understanding as he moves back to me. “Then I’ll have to pay attention to other things.”

Heat fills my body, warming every inch of skin, every ounce of blood. “Yeah?”

He takes another step as I move back, legs hitting the bed. “Want me to show you?”

“Very much so.”

“Take your dress off while I watch.”

My hand reaches behind me, slowly sliding the zipper lower. I might like when he’s bossy in bed, but I like teasing him. When he gets broody, it’s fucking hot, and nothing makes him react more than when I toy with him.

The sound of the metal teeth coming apart sets him on edge. He clenches his hands at his sides, and I don’t do anything but take my time.

His chest rises and falls a little harder as we stare at each other. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and I wait for him to snap.

One.

Two.

Three.

Quinn moves with lightning speed, his hands push mine aside as he releases the zipper and pulls the dress from my body.

He leans down, fingers gripping the back of my thighs as I grab his arms for support. Normally, he’d toss my ass onto the bed, but he slows himself.

“I don’t want to fuck you tonight.” His voice is low and gruff, restraint in every syllable.

“Then what exactly do you want?” Because I would very much like that.

He lays me on the bed softly, as though I’m a delicate flower he’s afraid to break.

Quinn’s eyes are intense as he climbs over me. “I want to worship you.”

Well, that sounds just fine to me.

Then I realize what he means by that. He wants to make love. He wants us to join together, not in anger or in one of our typical very hot and sweaty sex sessions but in a slow show of emotions. Quinn wants to show me more.

I don’t welcome the tears that pool because I’m clearly an emotional idiot, but they come anyway. “Make love to me, Quinn,” I say the words, and then he kisses me.

His lips are no less intense, but there’s something else between us. An understanding that this is different. Everything about tonight has been the same way. It wasn’t our normal time together. It was filled with smiles and . . . love.

We kiss, but then his mouth starts to move. He kisses my neck, shoulders, and down my chest.

While my breasts are sore, they’re also very sensitive in a way they’ve never been before. When his tongue slides over my nipple, I could come right there.

He reads my body, always aware of things that I don’t think he could know, and does it again, this time making a circle.

“Jesus.” I breathe the word.

Quinn does the same to the other, causing another moan to escape my mouth.

He keeps doing it until my hips are moving, needing more, needing him.

I ache with desire. My limbs are tight, and my fingers dig into his back. “I’m so close.”

He chuckles against my skin. “We may break a record tonight.”

I don’t think I’ll mind this one bit. If pregnant sex is like this, I may get knocked up again just to keep it.

“Please, baby,” I whimper, internally groaning at the sound of my own voice.

“Be patient, fragolina,” Quinn’s lust-filled tone urges as he moves lower.

Oh, I’m so not going to be patient if that’s what he’s doing. Nothing in this world comes close to the feel of his mouth on me.

He slowly moves down my body, lingering over my belly as his lips press there gently. He descends farther and then his tongue makes a torturously slow swipe against my core. My back arches, eyes closed, as he does it again. “You taste like heaven.”

“You feel like heaven,” I tell him.

“Well, let’s see if we can make the angels sing.”

And sing they do. I cry out his name as he makes circles around my clit. My hands fist the comforter as he pumps a finger into my pussy while his mouth sucks and flicks the nerves that drive me wild.

I don’t even fight it.

I come so hard that I’m not sure I’m even tethered to this earth anymore. A sheen of sweat covers my chest, and I’m panting.

He’s back to eye level and he’s trying to hide the smirk on his lips. The man should be proud. That was freaking fantastic.

“And now what are you going to do?” I ask him.

His answer is to slide into me, filling me to the hilt. I grip his shoulders, trying to accommodate for the intrusion.

“Are you okay?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Yes.”

“The baby?”

I look at him, brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“I just . . . I mean, I’m not sure. If the . . . the baby.”

And then I realize what he’s asking. He’s worried that sex will hurt the baby. “No, the baby is fine, but I won’t be if you don’t start moving soon.”