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“I can do that,” he whispers against my lips, his voice gravelly. He pulls me to sit on his lap and relaxes back on the bed, taking me with him.
He peels off my clothes, then his own, dropping items to the floor or on the bed without a care as to where it lands. His hands skim my waist. He cups my breasts in his large palms as his thumbs toy with my nipples. It’s the gentlest either of us have ever been with each other. His hands and lips caress my flesh, and soon I’m gasping for breath, aroused by just his touch. There has always been other toys, props or scenarios—hell, sometimes other people.
This is raw. Real.
He rolls us until I’m on top of him and lifts his head to my neck. His teeth gently nip its way down to my breasts. Then he glances up at me with eyes that hold a million emotions. For the first time since I saw that last pregnancy test stick, it hits me that this man will be the father of my child. A gorgeous, complicated man with a shitty childhood, a ton of baggage, and a laundry list of kinky proclivities. He’s also someone who does his best even while planning to be at his worst. All club members I know would agree on that without question. Tate is a walking contradiction.
I reach down his body and take his thick, firm shaft in my hand, stroking him and pressing him to my mound.
“Go ahead. Do it,” he breathes out on a sigh. His fingers weave through my raven locks and pull me in for a kiss. “I need to be inside you.”
I lift myself up, position him at my folds, and lower onto his cock at the same time that his hips tilt up. He hits all the right spots. My eyes drift closed, and I start a rhythm with my hips that match the chaotic beat of my pulse against my temples. Sharp, but lingering thrusts connect us at my core, and we feed off each other’s pleasure. Tate continues to taste, touch and please me with his lips, tongue, teeth, and hands.
I’m lost.
We both are.
It’s a sacred moment, together.
I kiss him, slow and lingering, relishing the sparks of light flashing behind my eyes. He seems to understand. His hand comes up to cradle my neck just as I think about pulling away. Our kiss deepens as an orgasm starts to build from deep inside my abdomen. All I have to do is let go.
He trails his fingers down my spine in a delicate tease I never would’ve thought could unleash my climax. That touch tips the scales for both of us. I’m so used to seeing him get off from all the extra toys and pain and wicked play that we both bring to the table. But this, simple, gentle intimacy, makes all those times pale in comparison. It’s the idea that we’re enough, just us. As my body trembles above him and rides out the last slow burn of my ecstasy, he grips my hips in his palms, extending the moment as he comes too. He moans and shudders under me, and his fingertips dig into my hips.
I lower my chest to him, curling up against his warmth. Closing my eyes, I rest my head in the hollow of his neck, and his arm twines around my back, nestling me. The feel of Tate’s lips brushing my forehead is the last sensation I remember before I drift off to sleep in his arms.
Chapter 14
Tate
I wake up with a start. Molly's arms and legs are wrapped around me. The warmth radiating from her body is insane. That’s not what woke me up. I’m sure I heard someone knocking on the door, so I gently slide out from her comforting grip, hoping not to wake her up. Only a couple of hours have passed since we fell asleep, so I put some effort into shaking off the drowsiness on my way to the door.
Silas stands there with a hand raised, about ready to knock again.
“What’s up?” I glance back at the woman in my bed as she groans and rolls over. Sliding out the door, I close it behind me.
Silas’s gaze flicks up and then down. His eyebrows shoot into his hairline. I’m not wearing anything, not even a sheet.
I shrug. “I didn’t want to disturb her. What’s going on?”
“I need you on a job. Axe will keep an eye on her while you’re gone.” I start to argue when Silas shakes his head to stop me. “Not one word, son of a bitch. Downstairs. Now. Preferably not naked.”
My half-awake brain catches onto the word ‘naked’ and clings to it for some reason. I watch Silas walk down the long hallway, but don’t really see the guy. I’m replaying what I did with Molly. I’m addicted to her now, which is about the same as being fucking whipped.
