Page 34 of Cream
He crawled toward me, a predatory look on his face.
“Wait!”
Kneeling on the bed, he pouted. “You promised, Jamie.”
“Just a second.”
I uncovered the tray. The cream was in a bowl on the side, just as I requested, whipped to perfection. I grabbed a spoon.
Morton gaped as I scooped up a heap of cream and smeared it on my chest. One more. Dollops of sweet goodness covered my pecs.
“Now you can collect your reward.”
His licks and kisses were filthy. He slurped up the whipped cream from my pecs and laved them with his tongue. The cream made them slippery. He lapped at the undersides, adding pressure, and the tips of my nipples began to tingle.
Raising his eyebrows questioningly, Morton picked up the spoon. I gave him a nod. He placed a large spoonful of cream on each nipple. It felt cold and looked oh so decadent. The most amazing thing was the expression on Morton’s face. I’d never seen him so excited and so ravenous at the same time.
Then he closed his warm mouth over one peak, and the change of temperature made me shiver. He suckled the cream off and licked over my nipples.
“The cream is delicious,” he murmured with his lips against my nipple. “But the real stuff is even better.”
With that, he sucked my tit deep into his mouth.
I lost myself for a while, arousal swirling in my core, as he made the milk flow. When his hand covered my belly, I jerked up.
“No way. That’s not allowed.”
He let go of my nipple and scrunched his eyebrows to give me a puppy face.
I shook my head, trying to seem stern. “Nope. Not until you’re done with the Q&A.”
“How can you still think about work?”
I ignored his question. “How many bullet points do you have left?”
“Four,” he grumbled.
“Finish it, and you can have all of this.” I gestured down my body.
“Sometimes I forget who’s the boss here.”
Despite his protests, he returned to the document, scrolling and typing.
I covered myself with a duvet and watched him work. The frown on his forehead was so familiar to me. He nibbled on his bottom lip and scratched his stubble, and a wave of tenderness filled my ribcage.
It had only been a couple of days, but it felt like I’d been with him for longer than that. Was it because I knew him so well?
My boss.
Except he didn’t feel like one. Not really. Who was Morton Hartley to me?
The first word that came to mind wasfriend. I didn’t know when our relationship changed, but it must have been before I realized I was attracted to him. We were close friends. Sure, for all intents and purposes, he was the one in charge. But we helped each other, supported each other, and I did my best to be there for him through thick and thin. We also laughed together, andsomehow, as I recapped the times I’d been happy during the past months, it had always been at work. With Mr. Hartley. With Morton.
No wonder my engagement fell apart. I’d been paying more attention to my boss than to my boyfriend.
And now…
I was pregnant with Morton’s baby.
