Page 31 of Cinderella's Secret Baby

With great tenderness, he pressed a kiss to each inner swell, pooling his hot breath against her skin as he promised, “Another time.”

He took great care securing the cups closed, then he made a noise of concern as he traced his fingertip up the flame-shaped mark on her abdomen. “Stretch marks?”

“Yes.” She started to cover it with her hand, but he brushed her hand aside and gave her sternum a light nudge, encouraging her to lie back. He kissed and nuzzled along the marks, smoothing his lips across her abdomen and licking suggestively against the narrow waistband at her hip, then against her bikini line.

She was still a little tender from being waxed the other day, but when he opened his mouth and scraped his teeth over the silk covering her mound, such an exquisite spear of sensation went through her she nearly leaped straight up in the air.

“Hurt?” His eyes were laughing at her.

“No.” But her legs had turned to jelly. Quivering jelly as they tried to decide if they wanted to clamp onto his torso or relax open for him.

“Do these have to stay on for some special reason?” He hooked his finger in the gray lace against her hip.

Only because it was daylight, rather than the shadowy intimacy of midnight.

“You can take them off if you want to,” she said, voice husky with nerves.

“I do want to. Lift your hips.”

He peeled the silk away, then stroked his hands up and down her thighs. Her stomach jumped and quivered, and her muscles trembled. When his thumbs came up to gently caress on either side of her sex, her folds grew heavy and hot and sensitized. She groaned and tried to twist.

“Do you want my mouth here? Because I’m dying to taste you again.” The pad of his thumb was tracing a line, barely, barely touching her. The most agitated, excited point on her body felt each pass of his fingerprint like a lightning strike.

“I do,” she admitted with a pang.

He drew her ankle onto his shoulder, kissing the inside of her calf. “Do you think of that night?”

“Yes,” she sobbed, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“What do you do when you think of it?” His mouth was traveling to the inside of her knee, arriving at the thin skin of her inner thigh. “Show me,” he coaxed.

She wasdying. Keeping her eyes hidden by one forearm, she slid her free hand down to relieve the ache he was stoking.

He groaned and his hair brushed her leg, then his mouth was against her, displacing and replacing her fingertip. His thumb circled her entrance, then eased in.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” she groaned, digging her heel into his back and lifting her hips, losing herself to the sort of pleasure she hadn’t known she could feel until she had met him. She had fooled around here and there. She wasn’t astrictvirgin, but that had been a biology class. This was...

She groaned out her enjoyment.

It was earthy. Erotic. Carnal in the way he turned her body into one receptive nerve ending. Filthy in the way he held her thighs open. Exquisitely pleasurable as climax swept up suddenly and crashed across her.

She realized belatedly that a cry had been torn from her throat. Had Kyra heard her? She might wake Peyton. Hunter didn’t let that stop him. He aroused her anew, making it impossible for her to find breaths that didn’t scrape and shake. Her breasts ached and her skin burned and a terrible, needy emptiness gripped her.

She licked lips that were dry from panting. “I want you inside me.”

He turned his head and opened his mouth on her thigh, biting softly against the tendon there. Then he kissed her stomach and along the underside of her bra, her sternum and her collarbone and her chin.

“I don’t think you’re going to need this, but let’s be sure.” He reached for the lube and kicked away his boxers before smearing some on his erection with blatant confidence, fascinating her as she watched.

Then he lined himself up and played his glistening tip against her, pressing with incremental pressure at her entrance.

“It’s okay,” she gasped. There was a small pinch, no worse than their first time, which had had this same quality of hot friction and gratifying stretch.

As he filled her, the deep intimacy of the act made her eyes sting. This was the most vulnerable she’d ever felt, lying beneath him with his flesh inside her, but also the most alive and animalistic and, when he gently brushed her hair from the corner of her mouth, cherished.

“No condom,” he said shakily. “I may not last long.”

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