"Come back to L.A. with me, and I'll give you everything, anything you want," I promised, my voice hoarse as I felt her tightening again.
"No," she breathed, even as her walls fluttered around me.
I was right on the edge, pleasure coiling tight at the base of my spine, but I clenched my jaw and slowed down, pulling back just enough to deny her the release she was chasing. She whined in frustration, a desperate sound that made my cock twitch inside her. Then she took control, flipping us so she straddled me fully. She sank down hard, taking every inch in one greedy motion. Her hands planted on my chest as she began to grind fast and deep, hips circling and slamming down with a rhythm that left us both gasping.
The wet slap of her ass meeting my thighs filled the room. I watched her pregnant belly bounce with every movement, the sight pushing me closer to the brink. Her walls clenched rhythmically, milking me, and this time I couldn't hold back. We shattered together, her body locking down around me in pulsing waves as I pumped rope after rope of cum deep insideher again. Her cries mixed with my groans, both of us lost in the overwhelming high, bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction.
She was spent, thoroughly claimed, and yet the possessive hunger inside me only burned hotter, already imagining the next round.
Chapter Seventeen
Natalie
Morning light squeezed through the blinds, landing right on my eyelids.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow, then froze.
Richard's cologne. Mixed with the scent of last night's sex.
My body remembered everything in an instant. His burning skin, brutal kisses, that familiar heaven-like sensation when we were tangled together... I bolted upright. The other side of the bed was cold and smooth, as if last night's sex—intense enough to qualify as warfare—had been nothing but a hormone-induced fever dream.
I sat in the middle of the rumpled sheets. Tears rushed to my eyes without warning. I blinked them back hard.
God, I was such an idiot.
I'd actually thought sleeping together might change something. Thought that arrogant bastard Richard might turn into the kind of boyfriend who left good morning kisses. Two years of marriage should've taught me better. Richard Winston was ruthless.
I threw off the covers and got up, at least consoling myself that Richard was damn good in bed. Toys couldn't compete with the real thing.
After a quick wash, I changed into clean loungewear and headed toward the living room. A smell of food drifted over.
I followed it to the kitchen and couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Richard Winston stood at my counter. He'd shed last night's expensive coat and suit jacket, wearing only a soft charcoal cashmere sweater with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. He had his back to me, frying eggs in my slightly sticky old pan, moving with surprising competence. A paper bag sat on the counter nearby, fresh bread peeking out, along with two steaming cups of coffee.
Was I dreaming?
I pinched my thigh. Hard. The pain made me gasp.
Richard heard me and turned, still holding the spatula. He looked at me and jerked his chin. "Go sit. Three minutes."
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The scene was too surreal.
Two years married to Richard, and I hadn't known he could cook?
"You..." I finally found my voice, dry as sandpaper. "How did you get in?"
My fridge had been empty. Richard's ingredients were obviously bought from outside, so...
"After you fell asleep last night, I had someone install a new fingerprint lock. My print's already in the system. You should add yours later."
Richard spoke while smoothly sliding the eggs onto a plate, turning off the heat, then leaning casually against the counter. Like he owned the place.
"This is my apartment, and you just changed my lock!" I couldn't believe his nerve.
"Obviously, the old lock was outdated. Poor security." He picked up both plates and walked to the small dining table. "Eat breakfast. You need protein."
I stared at the carefully plated eggs, toast, and tomato slices, then at his shameless face. Anger mixed with absurdity rose in me. "I don't need you deciding what I need! And I definitely don't need you breaking in and changing my locks! Richard, that's invasion of privacy, that's..."
