Page 43 of The Little Black Rose

Not tonight, Zeke. Not if I have anything to say about it.

This badly choreographed dance we’ve been performing for the last few days is done. The waltz is over, and it’s time for thelambada. The forbidden dance.

Shaking my head at my reflection for my corny thoughts, I turn toward the bedroom door and take a deep breath. This is it. It’s now or never, and I hope this night ends the way I want it to––with Zeke and I naked and sweaty, fully satisfied.

Striding forward with purpose, I open my door and leave the room before I can change my mind or chicken out. I don’t hear him as I head down the hall to the living room, and when I round the corner, I see him at the table, sitting in his chair with his eyes closed.

I move toward him on silent feet, but he must sense me because his eyes pop open. His Adam’s apple works in his throat as his gaze travels down the length of me before moving back up to pause on my chest. I know my nipples are hard and straining against the satin, but I make no move to hide them.

Clearing his throat, he finally raises his eyes to mine. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” I say, not bothering to hide my true meaning.

He swallows thickly, making the knot in his throat bob again. I move toward the table, ignoring my own chair as I walk straight to him and hook a leg over his to straddle his lap. His breath hisses between his lips, and I can feel his cock hardening beneath the material of his shorts. I adjust my weight, brushing my naked center over the bulge, and a quiet moan vibrates in my chest.

“What are you doing, Ava?” Zeke asks, his voice deep and breathy.

Pushing my hands into his hair, I grip the strands tightly. Pulling gently, I tilt his head back so I can look into his eyes when I speak.

“I want you, Zeke.”

I can see his internal struggle for a moment, then he groans and grips my hips, grinding me against his erection. My center fills with moisture at the sensation, and I barely manage to stop my eyes from rolling back at the sheer pleasure of it.

“I want you, too, but I can’t offer you more than this, Ava. We’ll never be more than friends and co-parents. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The pleasure coursing through me nearly blocks out his words. My hips are rolling as I grind myself against him in a gentle rhythm, and I’m growing more lightheaded with each second that passes. I know I could come like this, but that’s not what I want. I want all of him. His hands. His mouth. His cock.

“Ava, did you hear me?” he grits out between clenched teeth, pulling me out of the fog of lust.

“I hear you, Zeke,” I say, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to his neck before straightening to look into his eyes. “My eyes are wide open. I know what I’m doing, and I know what it means. It’s just sex. Nothing more.”

As if my words are the key to unlocking his own need, Zeke abandons his restraint completely. His hands slide down to grip my ass, kneading it as his mouth lands on mine. I open immediately, and he wastes no time giving me his tongue. I tangle mine with his, swallowing his moan as his hands slip under the nightie to find me bare. A finger wedges between my cheeks, sliding down to find me dripping for him.

“Fuck, Ava,” he breathes, breaking off our kiss.

His other hand slides around to my front beneath the satin before moving up to cup my breast. Luckily my boobs aren’t as tender as they were during the first trimester of this pregnancy, and the pressure of his palm feels amazing.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, brushing his palm over the nipple. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No, it feels good,” I huff. “Everything you do feelsso damn good.”

A quiet growl purrs in his chest as I grab my nightie and tug it over my head before dropping it to the floor. His head dips, his tongue reaching out to flick against my taut nipple, and need bolts from the spot straight to my center. I buck against him harder, grinding my clit against the hard ridge of his cock.

A frustrated groan rips up my throat, and Zeke lifts his head to look into my eyes, his own filled with question.

“You have too many clothes on,” I say, bunching the material of his shirt in my fist and tugging on it.

His arms immediately curl around me, caging me against him as he pushes to his feet in one smooth motion. I cling to him like a koala as his long strides carry me to his bedroom. At the foot of the bed, he loosens his grip and sets me on my feet. Giving me a hard kiss, he disentangles himself from my arms and takes a step back.

Yanking his shirt off in that one-handed way guys do, he tosses it aside and crosses his arms over his bare chest as his eyes devour every inch of my naked body. His gaze pauses on my rounded abdomen for a couple of beats, softening so slightly, I almost miss it, before moving on. He doesn’t speak until his eyes meet mine once more.

“Get on the bed. Lay on your back with your head on the pillow and spread your legs. And no matter what I do, no matter how good it feels, you are not to close your eyes. I want you to watch me make you come as many times as I decide to. Keep those eyes on me. Do you understand?”

Holy mother-fucking shit-balls.

I almost come on the spot. I got a little taste of his dominant tendencies the last time we were together, but this? This is a whole different level.

And I fucking like it.A lot.

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