Page 5 of Secret Baby for the Bad Boy

My lips meet her neck, the soft spot below her ear, then trail down. Taking a pebbled nipple between my lips, I suckle deeply and she cries out, her back arching into me.

The scent of her perfume mixes with the aroma of our bodies and sex, creating a heady and intoxicating scent that fills the room and my lungs. Her hands take my face and I release her nipple, my breath fanning the damp, red point.

She kisses me, her lips hungry, desperate, mirroring the need I feel clawing at my insides as our tongues dance and taste and battle for control. When she pulls away, our breath mingles, the flavor of sweet and sour alcohol and her own delicate taste invading my senses.

I carry her to the bed, lowering her down as I use the floor to add more power to my movements, and her legs wind around my hips. My pace seems to be perfect for her as her fingers grip my shoulders. Her nails dig into my back, scratching gently and sending fire along my body.

I feel her hips tilt into me, begging me to keep going, to give her more, to take her over the edge of pleasure, and I want to do just that.

The way her legs wrap around my waist, I can feel the clench of her thighs and know she wouldn’t let me go for anything right now. I pull all the way out, feeling her try to hold me in place with her legs and her warm softness, but I’m not going to stop just yet. I reach between us, pressing a thumb to the delicate bundle of nerves between her thighs.

She gasps, her gaze meeting mine as I work circles around the spot, feeling her body tighten up. With one hand, I guide myself back in her, the other hand pressed on the flesh between her hips, my thumb never leaving her button.

With a moan, a whimper, I watch her squeeze her eyes closed, her head pressing back into the bed. Working circles around that sensitive spot, I feel her tighten around me, her body on the brink of pleasure as I continue pushing in and pulling back, giving her a long, sliding sensation with every thrust and retreat.

She sucks in a deep breath, her eyes flying open to meet mine as her lips quiver. “Lark, I…”

“Shhh,” I whisper, reaching up to brush a lock of sandy-colored hair – with just a hint of red when the sun hits it – away from her face. My thumb traces her lower lip, and her eyes roll back as she grips me tight, then begins to spasm deep inside.

I lose myself in her, in the way she tastes and feels, in the way she moans. It's like we were made for each other, our bodies fitting together perfectly, completing each other in ways I never thought possible.

The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breaths and the slapping of sex.

“Finally,” she whispers, hands roaming over my back, as my body swells and my orgasm threatens.

“Were you in a hurry?” I tease, feeling the rising tide of pleasure.

She shakes her head, and I suddenly realize she’s obviously used to much quicker encounters, even though this one didn’t last all that long.

“More,” she breathes the word, and it's all I need to hear as my body explodes. I spill deep within her, feeling her body still fluttering around me as I give her everything I am.

Dropping beside her on the bed, I breathe ragged breaths, my heart beating so hard I worry I might pass out. As we come down from our high, I gather her in my arms and hold her close, feeling her slowing heart beat against my skin and her breaths cooling my skin.

“You are amazing,” I whisper into her hair.

“You don’t have to sweet talk me, I already gave it up,” she says, a teasing note in her voice.

“Since you know I don’t have to sweet talk you, then you also have to know I have no reason to lie. You’re incredible.”

She lets out a soft sigh of pleasure.

We lay there for what feels like an eternity, our bodies relaxing, our fingers lacing together, our skin drying in a way we both know means we’ll have to peel ourselves apart… but I don’t give a damn. She feels so good right here, curled into my side, her head resting on my shoulder, her fingers tangling with mine.

Eventually I'll have to face the outside world again, but right now, she’s the escape I need and the one that’ll help get me through whatever comes next.

In the quiet aftermath, the reality of what we've shared and done sinks in. But somehow, she doesn’t feel like just another fling, another notch on the bedpost. This is different; she's different. I can’t quite put my finger on the difference, but I feel it and know it’s there.

Rolling onto my side, I prop myself up on one elbow, watching her. She opens her eyes, and there's a vulnerability there that punches me in the gut like I’m back in that back alley ring as a teenager, squaring up against guys that outweighed me by a hundred pounds or more.

I want to ask her to stay, but I don’t want to scare her off. One of the things I’d said to her was that we’d never see each other again, probably, once we went home. If she stays one or the other or both of us might get attached. And we can’t have both things be true.

“So serious,” she says, trailing a soft fingertip down the crease between my eyebrows. I lift my head and kiss her fingertip, bringing a smile to her lips.

I want her to stay. Obviously, I’m just hard up and need to blow off some steam – and her body’s a great way to do it – but this is strange for me. I don’t like strange. I don’t like unpredictable. I left that world behind a long time ago. But not long enough.

Still, while I know better than to ask her to stay, I know a way around that self-imposed rule. “I want you to keep my room key,” I say, capturing her hand and bringing her fingers back to my lips. Kissing them, I turn her hand and press my lips to the delicate skin of her wrist.

She seems to understand and nods, a slight hint of a smile on her lips. “Okay.” Her voice still sounds breathless and has my body waking up all over again.

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