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The grin he gave was his sexiest yet. Because that smile was all for her. No one would ever see that pure masculine grin because it belonged to her now.

She held her breath as he licked her with the flat of his tongue. Slow. Perfect. She moaned, shutting her eyes, embracing the pleasure, while he played. He circled her clit until her legs trembled, and then he sucked on the bud, making everything so intense. She wanted to watch him, to see him tasting her, but she simply couldn’t. His tongue licked, his mouth nibbled, and she tumbled into where he took her, with her body under his control.

Then his mouth was gone at the peak of her pleasure, and his lips were on hers. He smelled of her, and she lost herself in the perfection of how their mouths fit together. His throaty moan brushed across her as he cupped her face and tilted her head, nuzzling her neck. Needing him, more than ever, she reached between them and unbuttoned his jeans. She pushed those and his boxer briefs down to below his butt. His thick cock sprung free, and she stroked him. He groaned, low and deep, then his heated gaze returned to hers. She stared at him, stroking the hardened skin, loving the way the pleasure dilated his pupils. He threaded his fingers into her hair and groaned again when she tickled the tip.

“I’m so damn lucky,” he murmured.

Before she even had a chance of responding, his hands were gone from her hair. He grabbed the base of his cock, and she rose on her tiptoes as he poised himself at her entrance. He entered the tip and she shivered, desperate for him to plunge in deep.

“Not yet,” he murmured against her lips.

He hooked her leg on his arm, widening her, and angled his body away from her growing belly. Then he drove inside her, all the way to the hilt. She gasped and lost herself in the pleasure, shutting her eyes, hanging on his strong arms.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded.

She forced her eyes open, seeing exactly what he needed from her. When he’d asked her that line before, she had come to understand that he did so to make her admit the truth. Hell, even to help her learn how to trust him. That all she needed to do was believe in him. And she did believe in him now. “I love you.”

“Ah, and there it is.” He slowly withdrew and then slowly entered her again. “And God knows I love you.”

She lost herself in him then.

Every hard thrust drove her higher on her toes. He kissed her neck, her mouth. He squeezed her breast. Once. Then twice. His fingers began to dig harder into her hips. His expression intensified, brows drawn over powerful eyes. She felt the hard tremble in his body before she felt it in hers. The sound that rumbled from his chest was inherently male and clenched her sex tighter against him. He thrust harder. Faster. And harder yet. She hung over the edge, fighting against the moans she was desperate to unleash, yet somehow holding them in only made her hotter. Because this was wild and reckless, and for the first time ever in her life she felt free.

He pumped into her, his eyes widening. And then it all became too much. She no longer dangled on the edge, she freefell over the edge, and he followed her.

Then there were just the two of them, fitting together perfectly, knowing each other wholly, and loving each other completely.

And there was pleasure.

Nash’s hard-riding pleasure.

Chapter 20

Later that evening, Megan grabbed a jar of salsa from the fridge, emptying the contents into a large bowl in Nash’s kitchen. She was no Harper when it came to her cooking skills. And she also had no time to prepare for the unexpected party tonight. Especially considering her nerves were shot since Nash had invited her parents over tonight to attend a Blackshaw family dinner.

For the past couple weeks, they’d done okay with her going over to her parents’ house without Nash. She went for lunch when he was working. Stuff like that. While that understanding had kept the peace, Nash was adamant that her parents were coming over tonight. To Blackshaw land. For dinner with the Blackshaw family.

Dear God.

Megan heaved a long sigh and moved to the kitchen table, emptying the tortilla chips into another bowl.

“All ready?”

She smiled, turning to Nash. He leaned against the doorframe, looking gorgeous in his Stetson and Levi’s. “Yup. Ready,” she repl

ied, moving to grab the bowl.

“I’ve got that.” He rushed in to snatch up the bowl.

She moved to grab the salsa.

“I’ve got that too.” He grinned.

She sighed again and gave him a look. “I’m four months pregnant, not injured. I think I can carry a bowl of chips and salsa.”

“Not when I’m around.” He turned, right as Gus barked at the front door. “I didn’t hear a knock.”

“Me neither.”

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