Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(42)

Dual moans—one deep in my chest, one rumbling around my cock in her mouth. My hand slipped into her dark hair and fisted, my senses on overload. Touch was consumed by the place where our bodies were joined. Sight was hijacked by flash points—her lips, her small nose, the crescents of dark lashes against her lily-white skin. The curves of her shoulders, the valley of her spine. The bend of her waist, the shape of her ass like a heart. I wanted in the split, wanted to touch it, invade it, taste it again.

But there was no denying her what she wanted, and I couldn’t stop her if I tried—not only for her determination, but for my lack of will. She wanted me panting and didn’t stop until I was. Not until I could feel the tight pull from deep in my body or the strained strands of her hair clenched in my fist. Not listening to the suck and pop of her mouth on my cock or the moan in her throat.

A throb, hot and deep, a wet slide of her tongue. And she let me go.

It was a smile there on her lips, held open by her own desire, and she turned around, the cleft of her body I’d wanted so badly a moment before presented to me like a fucking award.

She looked over her shoulder at me, on all fours, back arched, body open and ready. I wanted to grab my cock by the base and slam into her. But instead, I held her ass in both hands, spread her open, stroked the slick line of her body with my thumb.

“Roll over,” I commanded.

She pouted. “But—”

I bent, planting my hand in the bed next to her, fitting her ass to my hips, cupping her breast with my free hand. I tasted her neck.

“In a few months,” I whispered, “this is going to be one of the only ways. So right now, you’re going to roll over, and I’m going to watch you come while I have the chance.”

A labored sigh and a shift of her hips to cradle my cock in her ass were her only protests. She lay down and rolled over as I’d bidden while I kicked off my pants.

I climbed up her body, snagging one thigh on my way, fitting it to my ribs and spreading her open with the motion. The space between us closed, lips, chest, hips. My crown settled into her heat. Her hips rose. Mine flexed.

I slid into her, her body open and wet and waiting. Filled her, gave and took. Broke the kiss, watched her as her orgasm rose. Rolled my hips against the place she needed me, slipped into the place I needed her. Her eyes were closed, her brows coming together. Her swollen lips, red and parted. My name on her breath, but not the name she called me so often.

“Theo.”

She whispered the name I wanted to hear, the name that told me without saying that I was more. I was more than a night, more than a moment. I was more than a partner to raise a child with.

I was more than that. And that word, my name on her tongue and lips, told me she was starting to see it too.

She came with a series of gasps, a heaving of breasts, her chin pointed at the stars and her neck stretched in offering. She came with a pulse around my cock so hard, so tight, it throbbed with a deep ache of pleasure-pain. That breath froze for a moment, her lips locked open.

When her lungs kicked to life again, the sound of her drawing air sang, a gasp feminine and broken by desire and release.

And there was no holding back, no prolonging my own desire. I came with a deep, thundering groan, a galloping pulse, a pump of my hips. My hand clamped her hip, the other cupped her neck, my thumb forcing her jaw high, my eyes open but my vision dim. Flashes of imagery burned into my mind with every throb of my release.

Red lips stretched wide.

Black hair on white sheets.

Long white fingers hooked on my wrist.

The sound of my name again.

“Theo,” she whispered like it was a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. She was there, speaking my name, her body soft under mine, hot around mine, holding me tight in every placed we touched.

And my lips found hers, swallowed the word, wrapped myself around her so she couldn’t leave.

I’d convince her to stay. I’d be patient until she realized she didn’t want to be anywhere but right here with me.

I kissed her, a long, slow tangle of tongues and flex of lips, kissed her until she was sated and languid beneath me.

When I closed my lips, it was to look down at her, to smooth her hair.

To smugly smirk at her.

“Told you you’d pay for that.”

Her musical laughter filled the room. Filled my heart.

And she tightened her arms around my neck and kissed me again.





15





This or That





Katherine

15 weeks, 5 days

Theo frowned at the display of pacifiers, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks. “I still don’t understand why we’re at Target for this. I didn’t even know there was a Target in Manhattan.”

“Because,” I reminded him as I scanned three different brands, hoping the baby would like at least one of them, “this way, our friends and family who don’t live here can send something easily. Plus, there are five Targets, and this one is conveniently located enough that even our local friends will be able to come here and get things we actually need.”

He sighed again. I hooked the scan gun under my arm.

“What’s next on the list?” I asked.

He reached into his inside pocket of his suit coat, returning with a neatly tri-folded pack of papers. “Bottles,” he said, glancing down the aisle and nodding in that direction when he spotted them.