Page 34 of The Baby His Secretary Carries

Rejecting him was furthest thing from her mind in this moment, though. She opened his shirt wider and dragged the tails from his waistband. Then she tried to open his belt, but her hands were shaking too badly.

“That is possibly the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen,” he told her, but took over, yanking his pants open. “Walk to the bed for me. Let me watch.”

Wanton excitement gripped her. She started toward the bed, then glanced over her shoulder as she decided to take the long route around the foot of it. She deliberately set one five-inch heel in front of the other and let her hips ticktock in a shameless way.

When she looked back at him again, he was fully naked, fully aroused. He held himself in a light grasp of two fingers and a thumb, as though any more would finish him off.

It was flagrant and so sexy, she kind of lost the plot.

“Sit down,” he said as he circled around to her. “As much as I want those shoes on my shoulders, I’d rather help you take them off.”

Her legs were so weak, she sank down, then swallowed as she stared at his erection.

“Do you want me to—”

“I wanteverything, Molly.” He cupped her face and tilted her gaze up to his. “The catalog of things I want to do with you will take years to accomplish. But we have time.” He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “Tonight, I just want to be inside you. Would you like me to wear a condom?” He went to his knees to remove her shoes.

“You s-said that your doctor said there were no concerns.”

“I would still wear one if you want me to. I’ve never not worn one.” His gaze flicked up to hers, steady, but there was a feral flash behind it that caused her stomach to swoop. “I want you very, very badly. I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

“I think...without?” Was that too intimate? Toonaked?

Her second shoe dropped away and he pressed her to the mattress as he rose, sliding her to the middle of the big bed, then covering her with every inch of his powerful body.

When she delicately took hold of his erection, he muttered a string of Italian that she didn’t catch. He drew her hands above her head, stretching her out beneath him as he spread her legs wide with his iron-hard thighs and rocked to settle himself against her tender folds.

The intensity of his expression was almost too much to take. She wanted to shut her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to look away. His gaze searched over her features as though memorizing them. He kept her hands pinned with his one hand while his other made a delicate dance along her temple and cheek, then traced her bottom lip.

Incredible yearning struck. She was getting everything she wanted, and loved the way he was drawing this out, but she wanted more. She wantedforever. She wanted that so badly, a scorching heat accosted the backs of her eyes.

She made the most of now by opening her mouth and turning her head just a little, keeping her gaze locked to his while she sucked his finger into her mouth and blatantly caressed it with her tongue.

His inhale was a torn sound, then he released another guttural few words in Italian. After a moment, he withdrew his finger and replaced it with his mouth. It was the most carnal kiss of her life, hard and hungry and infinitely possessive. At the same time, he shifted and his touch was there, where her folds were as wet as his finger. He pressed it inside her and they both groaned.

He held her like that for long minutes, trapped in his kiss, splayed for his pleasure as he slowly, slowly brought her to the brink.

When she was arching and writhing and moaning unabashedly, he replaced his touch with the damp crest of his erection and let his full length sink into her.

That was it. She had gotten her wish. She was his. Forever. Her heart quivered inside her chest as she acknowledged that.

He released her arms then, so he could brace on his elbow and tuck her more completely beneath him. He began slow, powerful thrusts.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he commanded in a rasp that made her blink her eyes open. “It’s good? Does it hurt?”

“It feels so good, Gio, I can’t—” She couldn’t touch enough of him, couldn’t take him deeply enough, couldn’t sustain this height of arousal.

She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye and let him see all this tortured ecstasy he was stirring within her, but she couldn’t shut him out, either.

He was determined to wring every note of pleasure from the experience, thrusting in that steady, delicious way that strummed all her nerve endings and made her moan with abandon. Perspiration coated his back and his thigh was hot and tense where her foot stroked him. She was so lost to this experience that she trembled and grew feverish.

She had fooled herself into believing she could steal this time with him as though it was as inconsequential as a candy bar. This was the opposite of stealing. It was relinquishment. Even as he gave her more pleasure than she could withstand, he stole her ability to ever settle for anything less than this with anyone else. She would never be the same after this. She would be his in ways that could never be undone.

Maybe she clutched on to him tighter in those seconds because she was trying to take back the pieces of her soul that were flowing into him. She was catching and clasping before it was too late, but then itwastoo late.

With a ragged noise, he began to thrust harder. Faster. Deeper.

“Don’t hold back. Let go,” he commanded, and she did.

---