Page 216 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Perhaps it was then that the mask of Dominic Lancaster slipped, because he made a sound deep in his throat, and abruptly his tongue was in her mouth, exploring, tasting, devouring, his hand between her thighs, stroking, exploring.

She gasped as his fingers slid over her slick flesh, teasing her as his mouth ravaged hers. There was no finesse to it, no art, but she didn’t care. They hadn’t had any the last time in the forest and they didn’t have it now. But she didn’t need it. She needed only him.

He paused long enough to open his trousers and then he was down on her again, holding her hips down on the couch cushions as he pushed into her in one deep, hard surge.

She groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands gripping hard to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of the jacket he still wore. He slid a hand beneath her rear, tilting her, sliding deeper and she made another sound, pleasure spreading through her like a wild, dark fire.

He didn’t speak and neither did she. It was as if they couldn’t talk again until this chemistry or need or whatever it was had burned itself out. She could only gasp as he rocked deeper and harder, her legs tight around him as the pleasure climbed higher and higher.

He kissed her neck and she felt the sharp edge of his teeth against her skin. It made her shudder. Made her remember that night again, and how they’d connected. At a base level, at essence, the both of them animals in the dark, their civilised skins left far behind.

She wanted that again so she turned her head to find his mouth, kissing back hungrily and hard, and then he was moving faster, and the pleasure was tightening, the net it had caught her in constricting around her. She didn’t want it to end so soon, and yet she wasn’t going to be able to last, she knew it.

His hand was down between them again, giving her that last bit of friction, and then the ecstasy caught her, dark and hot, and relentless as the tide.

Maude cried out as it hit, shaking and shaking, feeling his movements get wilder and almost out of rhythm until he lowered his head and buried his face in her neck, a groan of release escaping him, too.

Dominic lay there, knowing he was likely crushing her, yet utterly unable to move. It had been a long time since an orgasm had stunned him like that, if one ever had. But no, that night in the forest he’d been stunned, he remembered. Apparently being stunned was a theme with Maude.

Aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through him, the sweet, musky scent of sex and her filling his senses.

He hadn’t meant to break like that so completely and maybe he should have been worried about how easily he had, but with the most blissful post-orgasmic sense of satiation filling him, he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.

He’d thought binding her hands would give him some control over the chemistry that had burned white-hot between them, at least until she’d told him that she trusted him. And then proved it.

It had been a gift, that trust. It had reminded him of that night with her, where they hadn’t needed anything but each other. No rules, no barriers, and no reason not to give each other everything.

There had been such simplicity in that, and he’d realised as he’d looked down into her eyes that he wanted that simplicity again.

And she’d given it to him with no deals, no quid pro quo. She’d offered him pleasure, given him all her passion, holding nothing back, and, yes, it had been simple.

But he could feel the hard swell of her stomach between them, where his child lay, and that made this whole situation anything but simple.

He shifted off her, gathering her in close so that they were lying on the couch with her half on him, and then glanced down at the rounded curve of her belly. She said nothing, her eyes still half closed.

Feeling oddly hesitant, he reached down to trace that curve, touch where his child lay. It was a strange feeling to know that between them they’d created this little life, who now lay still, waiting to be born. Then, as he was wondering that, another feeling swept over him, the knowledge, sure and deep, that he would do anything to protect that little life. Anything at all, even give up his own.

He’d always been a selfish man. His father had taught him that selfishness was the only way to get ahead, and that was a quality Dominic had had to cultivate if he’d wanted to be the heir Jacob had wanted him to be.

It had never been something he’d questioned... Until now.

His child was more important, he understood. More important than anything else in the entire world, and certainly more important than he was.

Did your father ever feel this way about you?

The thought crept through his head before he could stop it. And of course, he already knew the answer. No, Jacob hadn’t felt that way about Dominic. Because if he had, he’d never have made Dominic’s life such a misery.

Maude shifted and put her hand over his, moving it slightly, and to his utter amazement he felt something flutter against his palm. He looked at her in shock. ‘Is that...?’

Her lovely mouth curved in the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. ‘Yes. I felt him kick for the first time a couple of days ago.’

Instantly Dominic sat up, cold all over. ‘I was lying on you. I could have hurt—’

‘No,’ Maude interrupted. ‘You didn’t hurt him.’

‘Him,’ Dominic heard himself repeat stupidly.

She nodded. ‘I had a scan last week. I wanted to know the gender. I...was going to ask you if you wanted to know, but...’

---