Page 47 of Reunited By the Greek's Baby

Yet as he spoke, Theo couldn’t resist the temptation to trail his hand slowly up her thigh. Satisfaction stabbed as she shivered and leaned into him.

‘Do that again.’ The words held a throaty edge that rolled through his belly, drawing every nerve tight in anticipation.

Theo splayed his hand across the top of her thigh, his thumb brushing the gossamer-soft hair that hid her feminine core. She shivered again, leaning into his body, her nipples pebbling as if eager for his attention.

Her straying hand moved between them, deft fingers caressing then encircling his erection, and fire scorched every half-formed thought.

‘Isla.’ It sounded like a warning and a plea, not surprising as he was torn between sexual need and the voice telling him to hold back.

‘Theo. Youdowant me, don’t you?’

He laughed, the sound abrupt. ‘Can’t you tell? I thought it was obvious.’

He pushed her thighs apart, sliding his hand down to cup her. Instantly she tilted her hips, seeking his touch and satisfaction blasted through him. Just like before, she couldn’t deny the fierce hunger between them. She seemed to revel in it.

He thought of his plan to persuade her into marriage for the sake of their child. But this wasn’t a deliberate tactic to win her over. This was simply...essential.

Plans and persuasion could wait. The forces driving him were too elemental.

‘You’re not too tired?’ Was he crazy, trying to talk her out of this? But much as he craved her sweet surrender, a stronger imperative was at work, the need to protect his woman.

‘Tired?’ Her grip firmed as she stroked his length, eyes shining as she registered his body’s response. ‘Do I look tired?’

‘You look amazing.’

She stared rapt, as if he were something more than an ordinary man. She made him feel ten feet tall.

Her parted lips were an invitation to delight. The damp heat had turned her hair into a sexy tangle of chestnut curls and where they lay, wet against her pale shoulders, they drew his gaze down to her beautiful breasts. Did he imagine they were fuller than before? Was that due to her pregnancy, or was it his imagination?

Theo’s hands went to her waist, gripping firmly and lifting her to face him. Her hands went to his shoulders, those lush breasts bobbing before him.

‘Sit astride me.’ His voice was a gruff command, raw with anticipation, but it didn’t matter as she was already setting her knees on either side of his hips.

She rose and he leaned forward, capturing one berry-tipped breast in his mouth. She tasted of summer sunshine and sweet woman. Her moan of pleasure was the best music he’d ever heard as he drew on her, slow and hard, watching her head tilt back as her pelvis circled and her hands clawed at his shoulders.

‘Theo. That feels...’

Her words stopped as he pulled her lower body closer, the apex of her thighs against his erection. That connection blasted away any pretence of him being in control. His hands moved to her hips, insistent, as his hips rose, bringing them even closer.

A great shudder ripped through him. It felt like years since he’d had her. Not an hour. The need for her, a potent brew of sensual expectation and primitive compulsion, eclipsed all else.

‘Come to me.’ Again it wasn’t a lover’s smooth invitation but a grunted command, all he could manage as his larynx shut down.

She didn’t need further urging, positioning herself above him then sinking low just as he rose again, unable to keep still. One urgent slide was all it took and they were joined, so deep and sure it shocked him.

Had it possibly felt so good last time? His hands found Isla’s breasts and she jerked against him, making a sound in the back of her throat that would make a grown man weep with excitement if he weren’t fully occupied trying to hold himself still. He’d meant to go slower, cautious of the new life she carried.

But Isla destroyed all thought of holding back and taking it easy. Her hips angled and Theo lodged impossibly deep, at the heart of her. The feel of her slick heat so tight around him, the subtle movement of her muscles drawing at him, shot caution and conscious thought to smithereens.

He squeezed her breast, his other hand clamping her hip as he rose with her. They moved together, finding the primitive rhythm with no effort at all. As if their bodies were totally attuned. Each stroking caress, each breathless coming together was better than the last. His pulse raced harder and faster. The breath sawed from his lungs and the sound of her little gasps of pleasure incited the primitive, desperate man inside him.

They plunged together, riding the surging tide of carnal excitement with growing abandon.

‘Come for me, Isla. Let go.’

Because he wanted her to find pleasure, even more than he craved the orgasm he felt bearing down on him like a thundering mountain avalanche.

Once more he bent his head to her breast, closing his mouth around her nipple and sucking till she jerked and cried out, her body clenching hard around him again and again.

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