Текст книги "Capital Risk"

Автор книги: Lana Grayson

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Not when she finally looked at me—tears in her eyes.

“Let me love you, Sarah. Forgive me. Fight me. Do whatever you need to do, but don’t leave me. Not when I can promise you a family.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t take my child—”

“Goddamn it, Nick! I don’t know if it’s your baby!”

Silence.

She stepped away, covering her mouth with trembling hands.

She hadn’t meant to say it.

A chill prickled my skin.

Her voice cracked in agony.

And then I knew.

God, I knew.

Why she ran. Why she pulled away. Why she fought so hard to isolate herself.

Why she wanted to be free of us.

I knew.

She kept the secret not to protect herself, but to shield me from the truth.

“He followed you, Nick.” Her words were living nightmare. “He followed you that night.”

The world fell away and my soul with it. It was battered and destroyed before, but what remained shredded against the realization of what I caused.

I left her.

I led him to her.

And I wasn’t there to stop it.

“I begged you to stay,” she whispered. “I thought it was you at the door. I thought you came back for me.”

And I thought I left her in safety.

She stared at me.

I knew what she would say.

“Darius raped me.”

I didn’t flinch. Reed groaned, sinking into the couch, head in his hands. He repeated only a single, heartbreaking word.

“No, no, no.” His breath raged with a sob. “No, no, no.”

Max stormed away before shouting. The crash that followed was only the first of many. The powder room mirror shattered. His fist through the glass.

I didn’t let myself break.

Sarah needed my strength. I stayed still, motionless, a pillar of stability though my heart had long since ceased beating. I stood through sheer force of will with an unresponsive body.

She cried, but her words never stopped. “He said he’d come back for me. So I ran. I just ran. I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t think. And then I realized I was…I got…” She shook her head. “He has to die, Nick. Before anything else happens. Before he hurts me, kills you, or takes…”

She hadn’t cradled her stomach before. Not in front of me, and not just because she was still flat with the secret she carried. She held herself—the baby.

My baby.

Too long she hid in her secret, protecting me from what happened. I didn’t deserve that compassion. And she never, ever should’ve suffered in such a way.

It ended now. She would never fear him again.

I cradled her in my arms, letting her rest against the sofa and pulling her into my lap where I could hold her, touch her, kiss her.

Where I whispered my love to her.

She let me, but I didn’t know how long it’d last. Just having her close eased the horror.

I would never burden her with my pain. I’d hide the black sludge of despair that clawed through my chest and tightened against my heart, my lungs, my life.

I gave it one moment, a dark second of helplessness, before banishing it.

If she was strong enough to survive, to face my father, to plot her revenge, then I would be too.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”

I kissed her forehead, speaking with a renewed strength of hope and promise.

“Don’t ever apologize for what happened.” My words stilled her trembling. “Don’t ever apologize. There’s only one thing to discuss, Sarah. And it’s important.”

She nodded, letting me brush the tears from her face. “What is it?”

I kissed her, letting a soft smile chase away her sorrow. “We need to think of a name for our baby.”

Sabotaging the Bennett Corporation’s Board of Directors began too close at home.

First, I had to endanger my own company. Shelling out millions to Darius Bennett was an exercise in humility and patience for me and my board. Generations of hate once prevented my family from thinking beyond the petty rivalry. One night changed that.

Now I understood how to get my revenge and ruin the Bennett Empire.

If it cost me a couple million dollars, so be it.

The Atwood board and the presidents of my divisions weren’t happy, and I switched off the web chat with a fake smile and promises to visit the farms within the month. I had to do the tours soon. I didn’t have much time before I started to show.

When that happened, the questions would begin.

It had to be in motion before the baby revealed himself. Just the whisper of Bennett would complicate everything.

Especially since the baby belonged to my step-brother.

It had to be Nicholas’s child.

He knocked on his own bedroom door. The room was mine, unconditionally. He hadn’t pressured to join me at night, but his sheets smelled of him. Masculine and sharp.

The fireplace in the corner housed a beautiful sitting area for my computer and workspace.

A good place for a bassinet, he had said.

“How’d it go?” Nicholas asked.

“The board doesn’t understand why I ordered the change to Bennett products.”

“And you didn’t explain.”

I fiddled with the modem beside my laptop. When I got nauseous, I pretended to have connectivity issues and unplugged the router. It worked twice.

“I can’t afford to explain. I need my fields treated and growing before we make the next move.”

“It’s dangerous.”

I shrugged. “What isn’t dangerous anymore?”

Nicholas didn’t like the thought. He changed the subject.

He did that a lot lately.

“Let me get you something to eat,” he said.

I scrunched my nose. “Reed’s been leaving me salads, slushies, cookies, fruit. Nothing’s staying down.”

And Food was the only connection I had to Reed now. Both he and Max quieted after I revealed the truth. Only Nicholas looked me in the eyes. Held me. Promised me the world.

It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. But it didn’t stop him from trying.

“Trust me, Sarah. You’ll like this.”

Doubtful, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Anything was better than devouring only saltines and the occasional slice of an apple or can of sauerkraut—which would have been weird had I not snacked on it before I was pregnant.

Nicholas guided me to the dining room.

God, this man.

He decorated the table with roses and candlelight. Crystal serving glasses set around china dinnerware, complete with hand-folded napkins—an approximation of some sort of swan. He offered me a glass of cold milk. Milk was still touch-and-go, but he insisted. I waited as he lifted a silver carafe.

“How long was I in that meeting?” I peeked into the bowl. “No way.”

“I have on good authority one of your favorites is homemade cream of mushroom soup with wild rice,” he said. “Think you’re up to trying it?”

My mouth watered just looking at the creamy soup, and in a good way this time. He guided me to my seat and ladled a small bite into the bowl. He waited, eagerly, as I sampled it.

The soup tasted of home, comfort, and everything warm from my memory.

“How?” I asked.

“I have my sources.”

“Nick.”

His smile brightened the room more than the candles. I wished I saw more of it.

“I called your mom. Got the recipe.”

“She remembered?”

“You tell me.”

I swallowed another spoonful. My stomach eased immediately, and, for the first time in days, I kept something down.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

“I thought it would be.”

“You did all this for me?”

Nicholas sipped a glass of white wine. “I only made you dinner, Sarah. I should have known what your favorite meal was. I should have dined with you in candlelight and music—” He pulled his phone from his pocket. Hidden speakers in the room murmured a quiet jazz. “I should have done so much more for you. It starts now.”

“What does?”

“Everything. Us. You. Me.”

“Nick—”

“I want you here, with me,” he said. “Forever.”

So did I, but the need, the wanting was too dangerous. I hadn’t decided where to go or what to do. I thought the decision would be easier without the truth binding me in secret.

It did the opposite.

Nicholas insisted the baby was his. And now I recognized the proud, determined gaze as he offered me all of himself—his imperfections, failures, and the vow of devotion that came from loving Nicholas Bennett.

“Adam,” he said.

It didn’t feel right. I shook my head. “I’ll know it when I hear it.”

“Then let me suggest some. Jonathon?”

But what if it wasn’t a boy? What if the little one were a Juliet or a Piper? Would we talk about those? Or would we keep living in a quiet dread? My intuition said boy, I felt like it was a boy, but I wasn’t ready to face any other possibility.

“Giving him a name is important.” I lowered the spoon. “We have time.”

And so much could go wrong.

“It’ll be sooner than you think,” he said.

“We’re not harvesting yet.” I took another bite of the soup. “Then again, I can’t imagine this yield.”

He smirked. “Bumper crop this year.”

I giggled. “Yeah well, Bumper’s got some time left before he pops out.”

“Bumper Bennett.”

“Oh, great. He’ll inherit two billion dollar companies just to sell used cars for a living.”

I hadn’t laughed in a long time. I also hadn’t finished a full meal. I helped myself to seconds and pushed the bowl away with a victorious grin.

“You did well, Nicholas Bennett.”

“I promised I’d take care of you.”

I believed him. That’s why it was so hard.

I carried my bowl to the kitchen, but Nicholas didn’t let me straighten up. He pulled me to the living room, offering me the couch, a fuzzy blanket, and the remote.

“You should rest,” he said. “You look pale.”

Did I? Then there was a merciful God because what I was feeling wasn’t tired or sick.

Not at all.

A full belly and a clear conscience chased away the dark thoughts, the fear, and the uncertainty. But the hormones fueled something much more dangerous than weepy tears and fatigue.

It had been far too long since I last touched Nicholas, and even longer since I let myself think of our last night together. The few kisses he offered, I denied in self-preservation.

But I had confronted Darius.

I’d revealed the secret.

I’d confided in my step-brothers about the baby.

And yet, that hesitance remained. I hid my weaknesses, but I hadn’t let Nicholas touch me. I flinched away from Reed. I even shielded my tummy when Max raised his arms in a stretch.

Surviving Darius’s hatred meant nothing if I still cowered from the men who promised only safety.

If I still denied my feelings for Nicholas.

The only sane and rational solution was to cut the Bennetts from my life and protect my child.

But he also needed a father.

I deserved to end Darius’s hold over me. I wanted to be loved again. Worshiped. Adored.

Pleasured.

Safe.

And Nicholas tempted me with such beautiful promises.

The curtains were open, revealing the sparkling city, a sunset, and the Santa Cruz mountains shadowed in the distance. I’d never get used to lights and traffic, or a sky without stars and a view without the green sprawl of growing corn. I missed the farm, but the longing to return dulled within Nicholas’s presence. Once I left, I’d endure a different type of homesickness.

I didn’t know when it happened, but Nicholas became my home.

He caught me looking at him, admiring how his dress shirt and dark trousers melded to his body. Whatever he did the night I was kidnapped, whatever he and Reed survived, washed away like the blood that stained his skin.

“Why are you doing all this?” I asked. “The penthouse. The dinner. You hired a guard to protect me, but you still keep Reed and Max here. What do you want?”

“You.”

He said it so easily, unapologetically. I ached for just an ounce of his confidence.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me,” I said.

Nicholas knelt before me, close enough to touch. He respected the few inches of space separating our bodies. I still felt him, his heat. It warmed me, softening my guarded confusion and loneliness.

“I want to understand,” he said. “I know I can’t, but I’ll try, Sarah.”

I hadn’t whispered the thoughts I tucked deep down, secret and dark. It left me too vulnerable, especially to the man who forced that vulnerability on me. But I couldn’t hide from my own insecurities. I guarded myself so strictly I no longer understood what was right or wrong, strength or weakness. And maybe there wasn’t a clear definition. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Or maybe revealing everything to Nicholas would bind me to his power and trap me in the mire of my desperate feelings for him.

“I’m not broken,” I whispered.

“No one can break you. I learned that long ago.”

“But I still feel fractured,” I said. “You can’t see it, but it’s there. Thousands and thousands of little cracks straining to stay together in one piece. If I let go, I’ll crumble. And I can’t be put back together how I was.” I brushed my stomach. “Especially since there are more pieces now.”

Nicholas leaned close, the gold in his eyes fierce and honest. “You could fall and rebuild yourself an infinite amount of times, and each new you would be stronger than the last.”

“No. Every fall changes me. And as much as I’ve tried to recover from…the attack, there’s still a part of me that isn’t right. A part of me he controls.”

“The baby isn’t his.”

“It isn’t the baby, it’s me.” I took a breath. “I faced him. I told you the truth. But I still don’t understand myself or what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“Control over my own body. What I feel. Who I trust.”

He nodded. “You can trust me.”

“We’ve never trusted each other. Not when there was a collar around my neck and not now that…”

“What’s left to hide?” Nicholas looked away, revealing more of himself than I thought he’d give. “When I first met you, when I stole you, I thought I’d have it all. I thought it was owed to me, that you were something I could take and possess.”

It wasn’t possession if I gave it willingly. I said nothing, letting him speak.

“I knew my father was evil, but I believed I’d take the same path and somehow become a better man. You saved me from myself. You became something so irreplaceable that I wake at night in awe of just having you near again.” He hesitated, as though he’d reach for me. I hated that I pulled away. “You amaze me. I never knew a person could be so resilient.”

“I shouldn’t have to be resilient.”

“But you are.”

“Nick, it took days after the attack before I looked myself in the mirror. Three weeks before I let something other than scalding water in the shower touch me. Six weeks before I even realized I was pregnant. And then it took another two before I faced you.”

“That doesn’t make you weak. You can’t expect to heal from that so quickly.”

“I have to,” I said. “I don’t have a choice. Not with Darius, not with the companies, not with Bumper. I need that confidence.”

“You have it.”

“I don’t.” I flushed. “I don’t trust what I feel.”

“What do you feel?”

I whispered it. “Desire.”

It was the wrong emotion to admit to a Bennett, but Nicholas understood that forbidden, oppressive feeling more than any.

“That’s natural, Sarah.”

“Is it? Even after the things you’ve done to me. What happened with Darius?” My mouth dried. “I feel something for the first time since he hurt me, but it only reminds me how little control I’ve always had over my own body. You made every decision for me. You took me. You gave me to Max and Reed. And then Darius…had what he wanted.”

Nicholas had no counter. I didn’t expect one.

“Every moment I spent in your arms was wonderful.” I met his gaze. “But I can’t be taken anymore. I need to take that control back. I need to make the choice to be with you.”

“It’s yours.”

“No, it’s not. Not yet.”

And it wasn’t. I wanted him too much for all the wrong reasons. His touch. His comfort. We had been so complete, and now, it wasn’t me fracturing. It was us. Flaking and disintegrating within the truth and fear of how deeply I loved him.

“Tell me what I can do,” he said. “Let me help.”

“You can’t help, Nick. I panic if you even touch me.”

The thought struck me. I hadn’t touched him yet, but I knew what would happen when I fell in his arms. Nicholas Bennett would either catch me or toss me into the dark chasm I only just escaped.

I clawed my way to freedom once. I didn’t want to do it again.

But the only way to recover, to let myself heal was to take that leap and hope I caught myself before I tumbled down, down, down into the hell below.

It only took a small movement. Something simple. Something safe.

I whispered. “I should touch you.”

“What?”

“Just to prove to myself it isn’t something to fear. Just one touch.”

Nicholas held my gaze. “Just one touch?”

I seized a breath.

Then another.

And I reached for him.

He mimicked my motion. Our fingers brushed, palm-to-palm. My hand didn’t fit in his, and the strength from his rough size should have intimidated me.

It didn’t.

The surge of warmth wasn’t just a touch, it was a connection. The same that had always existed, crushed and lost, still beating an endless pulse of promise between us.

The relief burst with my shuddered breath. I touched him. Such an easy motion, but it was my choice, my decision to let him that close. I pressed my hand against his and didn’t brace for a fight or struggle. I prepared to be overwhelmed by his passion, tossed onto the bed with desires I hardly understood. But he let me feel us together. A promise kept.

“Just a touch.” His words soothed, melting wax that warmed but didn’t burn.

So much more. The gold in his eyes stilled me. The familiarity of Darius’s features slowly faded, revealing a man hardened by grief and strengthened by the same touch, the same words, the same feelings that protected me from the memory.

My confidence surged, and I wove my fingers between his. He moved only when I moved, acted only when I initiated.

My breathing shuddered. Nicholas’s touch usually stirred me too quickly, too fiercely. I couldn’t understand why I so easily surrendered to a man I should have hated and fought with my remaining strength.

But Nicholas gave me strength. He warmed, soothed, and protected, even when he couldn’t save me from all danger. I survived for him.

I touched him.

He touched me.

Our heartbeats pulsed in time, and the heat wrapped me in a layer of comfort that flared more than the feelings I denied.

I came alive. The twisting in my core was no longer a confused and dreadful reaction. I let myself desire.

And I wanted more.

“Just a touch,” I said.

Nicholas nodded. “Whatever you need, Sarah.”

“It’s just a touch.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“For now it does. I can’t separate what I want from what’s right.” I somehow leaned too close, twisting my other hand with his. I braved twice the heat, twice the brush of our skin. “I can’t protect myself if I’m not whole.”

“Tell me where the pieces are, and I’ll fit them together.”

The pieces scattered, but I could collect them all if I regained my confidence. Explored the part of me enthralled by such a simple touch. It empowered me to set my own limits. And Nicholas was willing to let me guide myself through my own recovery.

I couldn’t surrender again to my obsession with him, but I needed one more step.

“Just a kiss.” I hardly recognized the word.

“A kiss.”

I swallowed. I squeezed his hands to hide my trembling.

“Just one kiss.”

I meant it to prove my strength, that I would not fear the overwhelming presence of a man who took and gave, forced and loved.

Nicholas set his jaw. “One kiss.”

I seized and breath as my eyes fluttered closed. I brushed my lips against his, quickly. Only a brief bump.

I shouldn’t have feared it.

The familiarity, the loving nibble, the comfort enthralled me. My delight teased in a freed shudder. His lips guided, but he demanded nothing. The thrill of his gentleness summoned a quiet mew from me.

If he heard it, he didn’t respond, but his hands inadvertently tightened their hold.

It didn’t scare me. I wanted more. More kisses, more touches.

I parted my lips and let the one kiss draw me deeper, savoring the relief. I shivered until I trembled so deep my hands shook, captured within Nicholas’s palms. I pulled a hand free only to brush my fingers against his cheek.

Just one touch.

Then another.

The line of his jaw tensed under my fingertips—smooth and perfect. I traced his cheek, the angle of his chin. Nicholas’s stillness aided my bravery. He might have been carved from marble or cast from steel, but he wasn’t hardened. Just solid and unyielding. I wished to mimic that confidence.

I melded into his kiss, panting as our lips parted for air. I sunk deeper against him. He didn’t question or protest but offered me exactly what I needed.

Nicholas didn’t thaw the parts of me I shielded from the world—he shattered everything I hid and denied.

Just one touch.

Just one kiss.

I meant it, even as a sudden flush spread over me. For months I lived in a cold shell, denying my femininity, hiding the life inside me. Now?

Kissing wasn’t enough.

It had to be.

How could I fight my own desire?

My pulse pounded hard in my ears, and I groaned against his lips.

“One hug,” I whispered. “A little closer?”

Nicholas nodded, unmoving, still kneeling before me. “One hug.”

I shifted from the couch, twisting my fingers within his. My body vibrated near him, pulsing with a raw energy. He let me pull myself into him. Our chests met, our bodies pushed together, and I rested my head against the solid strength of his shoulder.

His arms captured me.

Comforted.

His sharp scent pulled me from my nightmares and guided me into the gentle fantasy of skin against skin, warmth feeding warmth, and the fullness of what had once been perfection.

It was still perfection.

The twisting need ached within me. I swallowed, parting my lips before returning to his. My words wavered.

“Same kiss.”

“As many as you need,” he promised.

All of them? More of them? Just us, in honest imperfection.

Confidence and passion blended into a dizzying haze. I craved more.

The Bennetts warred to steal my body, but the true battle waged within my own heart and mind.

I had to stop, but my core warmed with the first flicker of passion I felt since the choice had been taken from me. Stopping now would hurt more than what I endured that night.

“Nick…” I whispered, brushing my lips against his. I welcomed the softness of his tongue against mine. “I need more.”

“Anything.” His words deepened, silken, layered with heat. “Anything you ask, Sarah.”

“I need…”

“Anything.”

“Pleasure.” It wasn’t a question or a demand. “Just one moment of pleasure.”

“More than one.”

It would only take one to renew me.

I pressed my trembling body against his strength, his muscles, his presence. How could I feel whole if I didn’t experience that one fundamental gift that passed man to woman, lover to lover?

I pulled away, taking the chance, giving what I chose to give. I lifted my shirt, casting it away. Nicholas didn’t move. His eyes feasted on my softening body, lingering over the fullness of my chest and the yet imperceptible swell from our Bumper.

“Just one look?” His smile warmed everywhere his hands had yet to touch.

“Just one.” My whisper wound us in secret. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a perfect man, healthy and strong and bursting with the masculine energy I once loved. Dreaded. Needed.

The definition of his pecs thrilled me. So did the shadowed ripple of his abs and the hollow V stretching beneath the waistband of his pants. Nicholas was the most amazing man I had ever seen.

And he had been mine.

Was mine.

Could still be mine.

I stood, looping my fingers in the soft skirt. It didn’t take courage to shed the last bit of protection from my body, only acceptance of what I felt for him. The bra tumbled next. I knew he’d recognize the changes in my body. The softness. The heaviness of my breasts.. I warmed without his touch.

I laid his palm over my breast. His fingers caressed the silky skin. I gasped.

“Too much?” he lifted his palm.

“Sensitive.” I shuddered as his rough fingertips brushed my nipple. “Very sensitive.”

“Good?”

I hadn’t touched myself for so long, hadn’t let myself feel much beyond the towel after a shower or a tangle of sheets at my feet. I liked it. I’d missed it.

I arched into his hand. Nicholas needed no further instruction. My tiny purr silenced as I pulled him into the kiss. His touch massaged a sudden ache, and he teased a sensitivity heightened within the past weeks. I murmured against his lips, and his fingers claimed my hardened nipple. He pinched.

My mind exploded in sensation and need.

All I had to do was ask and he’d give. All I had to do was whisper stop, and, he’d stop. No questions. No hesitations. He’d release me.

And I trusted him to honor that.

But I didn’t want him to stop.

I pushed my neck to his mouth. The warmth of his breath cascaded in tingling excitement over my body. The sensation coursed through my blood, heating everything in its path.

It centered low. In the one place I hadn’t acknowledged in weeks. Now I couldn’t help but tremble with every pulse, every clench. The slickness.

His soft kisses traced over my neck, my shoulder, and slowed at the curve of my breast. He waited for permission.

I folded my fingers within his and guided myself into pleasure.

His lips sealed over my nipple. An instant excitement buzzed my skin. I gripped his hand as each draw of his tongue against the tender bud sizzled through me.

He moved slowly, his fingertips hovering under the new swell of my breast. I guided him, letting him cup the exciting fullness that, so far, had been the only perk of my condition.

That changed now.

He rolled his tongue over my nipple, and the slow, teasing draw of his suckling drew a murmured groan from me. Each leisurely nip tightened my core and delighted me in lick and bite.

The changes to my body frightened me, but they excited Nicholas. He teased the plumpness of my chest with trailed promises along my skin. I shivered, letting him kiss, letting myself enjoy what he did. His lips tightened over the bud, tugging it to watch as I squirmed away from the overwhelming sensation.

“How’s that?” he whispered, switching to lap at my other breast.

“Not enough.”

“What can I do?”

I knew exactly what he could do—stretch the moment of pleasure into minutes, into hours, time that belonged only to us. My voice weakened, but only because my own desire softened me beyond comprehension.

“Just one taste.”

The gold in his eyes flashed. The temptation stirred him more than I anticipated. But it didn’t deter me. Just the opposite. I trembled as my core clenched hard in sudden wanting. Nicholas felt the same. A hardness bulged against his pants. An invitation.

“I won’t lie.” Nicholas hadn’t moved. “I want you, Sarah. I want to show you how much I’d cherish you. Love you. Protect you.”

“Just one taste.”

“For as long as you wish.”

Even infinite pleasure wouldn’t ease the ache in me. What I wanted wasn’t his strong touch or skillful tease.

I wanted him.

All of Nicholas Bennett.

And I could have it so easily if I just asked.

He waited as I tucked my fingers in my panties. I was so used to him stripping me, him overwhelming me, him taking me. I never understood how much of a thrill it gave him to watch as my body was revealed. Goosebumps raced over my curves. The cool air teased my hardened nipples, swollen from his suckling.

The panties slipped over my hips, dragged across the paleness of my legs, and kicked off at my toes.

Completely naked.

Completely exposed.

Completely vulnerable and endangered and at his will.

And yet, he looked upon me like I was a goddess, a vision of perfection, of everything pure I once was.

That I still was.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispered. “Christ, Sarah, I missed you so much.”

I didn’t answer or I would have screamed the truth. I missed him too.

I missed his touch, his lips, his body, the feel of him within me as I clung to a man stronger and fiercer than any other. It was wrong of me to encourage it. I teased us both with the possibilities of us and a life and a baby, but tonight wasn’t about a lost future.

It was about me. Fixing what was shattered.

I rested against the couch, taking the initiative and guiding Nicholas over me.

“Just one taste,” I said. “Just one, so I remember how it feels.”

Nicholas leaned down to kiss me, beginning low at my toes and drawing a ticklish line up the goose bumped skin twitching under his touch.

“One taste,” he promised. “And you’ll never forget again.”

This was a step beyond where I thought I’d go, but it was exactly the one I needed most. Every touch, every kiss layered me in a shuddered pain that only Nicholas could ease. I came alive under his stare, and the sheer adrenaline of presenting myself was exhilarating and freeing.

But it wasn’t surrender.

So many times in so many ways, my body was given to Nicholas and taken as he wished. This was different. Not submission, but trust.

His lips caressed my legs, up, up, up, until I spread for him and presented the part of me craving his attention. Nicholas leaned, kissing my thighs, my mound, and then…

He kissed just below my navel.

Over the baby.

His baby. It had to be his baby.

I trembled as I took his hand, resting his palm over the softness. He cupped me, so gently and loving, as though the rub of his hands would somehow break me.

It didn’t.

It wouldn’t.

His delicate kisses lowered until the warmth of his breath along my slickening folds teased me. I arched. His tongue flicked against the swollen nub, and like an electric shock, I flinched against the powerful sensation. My body propelled forward, pressing harder against his mouth, sealing his lips over the part of me that I had forsaken.

I didn’t know how sensitive it was.

How it pulsed with heat and slickness.

I shuddered, too overwhelmed to even whisper my astonishment.

Pleasure.

Desire.

Passion.

I had forgotten them all, but Nicholas guided me through every shuddering wave. He showed me how the twist of his tongue, the press of his lips, and the flicking quickness of his attention could reignite the passion inside me.

My fingers curled into the couch. I squeezed the leather as words faded into quick gasps. My head dropped. My hips bucked.

And everything was perfect as I pressed into the heat of Nicholas’s offered mouth. The taste became a feast, and the feast an absolutely perfect exploration of me.

I wetted. I tensed. I clenched. I gasped breath after breath of cleansing heat. Sweat flushed my skin and prickled my sensitive body. The weight of his hand against my tummy rocked me, and the hot, flattened lick of his tongue vowed so much more.