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She gasped. “Yes, oh yes. Please don’t stop.”
Nothing could make him stop. He was so hard, he hoped he didn’t come in his pants like a teenage boy.
He went faster and heard when she held her breath, then she was coming against his tongue. Her body clutching at his finger. It was so fucking hot. He unzipped and thrust inside her while she was still coming. She cried out, her body pulsing around his cock. It took all his control not to come right then.
Leaning over, he kissed her, murmuring against her lips. “Shhh, baby.” He didn’t care what people thought about him, but he didn’t want her to have to do the walk of shame through his campaign headquarters.
Standing back up, he took hold of her hips and pulled her toward him. She looked amazing. Her hair spread out on the desk. Her lips red and swollen from his kisses. Her eyes heavy-lidded as she watched him.
It was very erotic, looking into her eyes while he was inside her. He moved slow at first, savoring the feeling. God, he’d missed her. This felt right. She was right.
He couldn’t help it. He moved faster, thrusting harder. Her eyes squeezed shut and she bit her lip. He felt her come again and he buried himself in her and stilled while her body pumped his cock.
When she was through he moved fast, needing to come inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and that was all it took. He emptied himself into her, the orgasm taking over his entire body. It seemed to go on forever. Finally, he was spent, but he stayed inside her, savoring the intimate connection. He bent forward and gently kissed her, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.
The mother of his child. He thought it would never happen.
Her fingers trailed through his hair, her legs still wrapped around him.
Eventually, he stepped back. After adjusting his clothes, he removed his pocket square and gently wiped her clean before pulling her skirt down. He held out his hand, which she took, and he pulled her upright. She demurely crossed her legs at the ankle.
Now he had to do things properly. Not in some cabin. But the way a woman like her deserved.
He knelt on one knee. Pulling a box from his pocket—which he had been carrying with him at all times—he opened it and presented the ring inside to her.
“Anne, the woman I don’t want to and can’t live without. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
* * *
Anne stared at him, down on one knee, proposing to her. Maybe it was the hormones, but tears escaped her eyes. Her glance caught on the ring and she gasped.
In a Tiffany blue box, it was a huge emerald cut diamond in platinum with diamonds set into the band. If it wasn’t made by Tiffany, it would be ostentatious.
She looked at Blane, still on his knee. There was something in his eyes and it took her a moment to recognize what it was. Fear and uncertainty. He wasn’t sure what she would say.
“Of course I’ll marry you, you fool. Come here.” She held her arms out to him.
In a second, he was holding her and swinging her around in a circle like in the movies, kissing her breathless. She laughed, then noticed her tummy was not liking it.
“Ooh. Better put me down,” she said urgently.
He immediately stopped and put her down, gazing down at her with concern. “Are you all right?”
Anne took a steadying breath, her hand automatically going to her abdomen. “Just a touch of nausea.”
He dragged a chair to her and eased her into it. “Just relax.” He looked anxious. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Not your fault.” The nausea receded and she smiled at him. “I’m okay. Just a brief spell.”
Blane crouched down in front of her and took the ring from the box. Lifting her left hand, he slid it onto the third finger. It fit perfectly. She was absurdly glad she’d had her nails done recently. French.
A thought occurred to her and she frowned, her brows furrowing.
“Wait, Blane, is this just something you had on hand? When did you get this?”
“I had it made a week ago.”
Anne just looked at him. “But I threw you out of the house.”
