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I pushed back, my forehead resting on hers as she gasped in air.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” I started, my chest aching at the perfection of her. But my words were cut off as she suddenly put a knee up by the console and leaned over me again. This time, she was the one to frame my face in her hands.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she whispered.
***
Chapter Six
Emerson
I growled, my doubts forgotten as I hauled her up and over the console, making sure that no part of her bumped against the center. I pressed a button, shifting my seat back as I settled her over my lap.
When I looked up once more. Whitney’s face was close to mine, so close that I could see the dusting of freckles on her nose.
Fuck, I hoped our babies had those freckles.
Yes, babies.
Because this woman was mine. She was meant to be.
She groaned, and I knew it was because she’d been pushed far enough forward that there was no way she couldn’t feel the hard line of my cock as it begged up against the crotch of her panties. My other hand pressed up her thigh, slowly easing her dress higher so I could scoot her forward even more.
I wouldn’t be satisfied until I could feel the weight of her on me. Pressing against me. Maybe then I could be content…for now. At least until she knew the truth. I refused to claim her in the way I wanted until she knew who I was. Who I really was. And what something like that meant for us.
But in the meantime, I finally did the thing I’d been dying to do since I first tasted her. I pressed a hand over her belly, raising my knees so that she was tipped forward. And then I let my mouth find hers again.
Under my palm, my mind screamed in joy. Our baby, the firm, round pressure of them pushed back. The primal part of me wanted to roar with pleasure.
My woman across my cock. Our baby snug in her belly. It was everything I could’ve asked for and more.
Whitney slowly pulled away, her eyes fast on mine. Her hands slipped down her own body, where her dress was bunching at her thighs. My chest heaved as she slipped her fingers under the hem and pulled it higher, exposing the pinnacle of her thighs and the black lace covering her most private space.
I only caught a look, but my head fell back with a groan. “Whitney, you’re pushing me hard.”
“I just wanted to get comfortable,” she said tartly, settling back down over my now aching cock.
“And are you?”
She moved her hips, and then her eyelids fluttered shut with a groan. “Yes, very much so.”
I watched her clenched eyes closely as my fingers swept lower to this newly exposed area of her body. One finger traveling the edge of the fabric.
Her body quivered.
I wasn’t sure whether it was the way she moved against me or the sweet, slick wet that my fingers found between her legs. But I couldn’t resist her. I couldn’t resist asking her, “What if I could make you more comfortable?”
Whitney bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. “More?”
I leaned in, my lips brushing across her collarbones. “More.” My hands rose up and cupped her breasts gently, my thumbs brushing against the tight pinpricks of her nipples through the dress.
“Careful,” she whispered, and I retracted my hands instantly, realizing how sensitive that part of her body might be. Perhaps my tongue would be gentler. That was impossible in this position, but I knew that I would try that again another time.
Another time? I almost chastised myself for thinking like that. But it was hard when she was rolling her sweet body against me, begging with every inch. “I will always be careful with you.”
I leaned in, pressing my nose against her throat to huff in the sweet, soft flavor of her as my hands found her hips and guided her forward once more. The perfect sway of her body made me growl at her neck. Her responding little whimper nearly made me come in my pants.
I slipped a hand from her hip, moving to the small of her back, where I kept her pressed between myself and the steering wheel, unwilling to let her go long enough to move us but terrified of hurting her.
