Page 26 of Returning for His Unknown Son

She sank her teeth gently into his lower lip. “More, Christian,” she demanded.

His mouth took hers in a rougher, deeper kiss. She tasted his hunger for her, his desperation, and returned it with her own—eight years’ worth of want she’d been carrying around.

On the next dip of his lips, Priya chased his tongue and sucked at the tip. On and on, she devoured him. Urged by instinct and nothing else, she bowed back into the bed. He followed her, his body covering hers.

Groans ripped out of their mouths, an erotic symphony in the air.

He was a heavy, delicious weight, a taut, tense press of hard muscles, fitting around her curves perfectly. Her thighs fell away immediately, and the instinctual thrust of his hips knocked the breath out of her. He was hot and hard and everything she wanted.

“What do you want, Pree?” he whispered, his mouth at her neck, his hands petting her all over. “Now, Starling. Ask me before I come to my senses.”

Priya looked up at him, even as a lone tear fell down her temple into her hair. If she lost him again... No, he was here, now. All over her. Around her. “I want... I want so much pleasure that all the fear and the loneliness and everything else is scrubbed from my mind. I want what you dared me to ask for, that night. What I shied away from because I was naive and a coward and...” She was half sobbing now.

His blue eyes widened, his swollen lips parting on a soft gasp.

“Do you remember?” she whispered, moving his palm from her neck to her breasts to her belly.

His fingers spread, staking his claim to every inch of her. Something wicked shone in his eyes. “Yes.”

She brought his hand to her pelvis, where his palm covered her sex. Her hips jerked up at the contact. “I want your mouth here, Christian. I want so much pleasure that it will wreck me. In the very best way.”

One knee planted on the bed, still out of reach, Christian loomed over her—a magnetic, dark presence that had always called to the dormant wildness in her. She felt his shock at her words in the stillness surrounding him.

He wasn’t the Christian who had once mocked and teased and taunted until she was forced to strip away all the half-truths and white lies and layers of armor she usually hid behind.

But he was doing it again. Even if it wasn’t on purpose. Making her face her worst fear. Stripping even a semblance of control from this situation. And Priya was going to take everything he’d give. Every last inch of him that was on offer. She needed it to sustain herself through the storm he’d brought back into her life.

“Whatever you want is yours,” came his soft reply. A hoarse whisper wrapped in a dark promise. His other forearm came down on her belly, pushing her down. “Lie back down.”

Gathering the thick mass of her hair with one hand, Priya obeyed. Her gaze saw the pristine white ceiling, her thoughts slowly untangling. “Are you doing this just because your poor neglected wife is demanding it?”

His mouth was on her belly, breathing the words into her skin. “I like it when you call yourself that.”

She wanted to move, she wanted to thrust her hips up, but he locked her under the weight of his corded forearm. “What, neglected?”

“No, my wife.” His smile was a tattoo against her warm skin. “As to why...to wake up and find you in my bed, desperate for me...to find you offering me a taste of you...demanding I give it to you, it’s the stuff dreams are made of, Pree. Now shut up and hold on.”

Eyes closed, Priya smiled. Let the night and the darkness and the intimacy take over. She lifted her hips as he stripped her shorts and then her little lacy top from her body. Reaching out again, she sank her fingers into that thick hair. She tugged, asking him to pay attention. “Christian?”

“Yes, Starling?” he whispered, nuzzling into the crease of her thigh.

A bolt of lust held her still under his lazy ministrations. “I don’t want tender or soft. I don’t want you to coddle me or cosset me or treat me like I’m still that fragile thing I was before. Because I’m not.”

His breath turned shallow and deep at the same time. “I think I’m beginning to believe you, Pree.”

His fingers wrapped around her ankle, and then she felt his mouth travel up her calf. A kiss at her knee. A whisper of silky breath at her thigh. Her skin tickled in some places, begged for more in others. He drew a pattern all over her legs with his mouth and fingers, as if he was more than content to just stay there.

And then it came—a drag of his lips at her inner thigh.

The rough scrape of his beard on the sensitive skin no one had ever kissed before.

The jagged coating of his exhale.

Another kiss over her hip bone.

The abrasive scrape of his finger pad against her most tender areas.

Her senses ran from place to place, pleasure centers pinging all over her body, wondering where he would land next. Kiss next. Touch next. Lick next.

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