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I wasn’t expecting my sweet girl to reach out with tentative fingers and swirl them up and down my cock, her hand slippery in our combined juices. Then as I stared at her in shock, she brought her fingers to her lips for a quick lick.
I groaned, my mind fracturing at the image before me. “Whitney…”
A shy little smile curled her mouth. “We taste good together.”
“Fuck me, I’m going to need inside you again if you keep licking your fingers like that.”
She blinked at me, all false innocence. “Promise?”
I burst out in laughter, watching as she grinned back at me. “Take me to bed?” she asked, her arms slipping over my shoulders.
“It would be my pleasure,” I said, slipping my arms under her and tugging her with me.
***
Whitney
If I never left this bed again, I would be completely and one hundred precent okay with it. Well, as long as Emerson was here too. Because my God did it feel good as he dropped me gently on the edge of the bed, his powerful arms flexing as he stepped back.
He was still naked, and I didn’t bother to hide my approving smile as I finally got a good look at him. Emerson was all buttoned up masculine power in his suits. Hell, even in his most casual moments, wearing sweatpants or pajamas, the man exuded a sort of sophistication I wasn’t sure I’d ever live up to.
But this…naked Emerson, fresh from fucking me…he was masculine perfection. Something deep in my belly tightened again, and I knew I already wanted him again.
He stood there, letting me eye-fuck for a long moment, before sending me a small smile and disappearing into the master bathroom. He reappeared with a warm, wet washrag and began to gently wipe my inner thighs and the still swollen lips of my sex as I watched him.
Then, tossing the washrag in the direction of the bathroom, he dropped to a knee in front of where I was sitting. His face, for the first time in days, had returned to its brooding, dark expression.
“I hurt you.”
“Emerson, I was a virgin, and you…you’re huge. I’m not sore, I promise.”
He raised his brows. “Not what I was thinking about, but good to know.” A warm hand slipped down over my calf and lifted my foot until it could settle on his knee.
“Oh,” I said, surprised. My knees were bright red, rubbed raw from the area rug in the living room where I’d been braced over.
“Ohis right.” He frowned sadly. “Let me take care of these.”
“Emerson, really, it’s nothing.”
He didn’t listen, and I was suddenly on my back, my legs being physically moved so that I was lying in basically the right position for this side of the bed. And then this incredible, powerful man sprawled across the bed so that he could lavish my knees with his mouth.
Like I said… I was staying right here until the man kicked me out.
***
The next few weeks were a blur of adjustments, laughter, and very swollen feet. But I couldn’t remember a time I was happier. Emerson was an open book, but the structure in which he lived his life slipped over me like a balm. For the first time in my life, I could plan. There were dinners with his brothers, whom I adored instantly. There were late-night ice cream runs. There were more than a few tense moments as we got used to living with each other in this situation.
And there was so much sex. Absolutely gooey, mind-numbing sex. The man was positively obsessed with me, but it did not hold a candle to how I felt about him. That coupled with the maddening changing hormones meant that the nights were full of him. Literally.
Not that anyone was complaining. I’d also gone back to my job, this time with David as my smiling blonde shadow. And somehow, during all of this, I’d come to expect and appreciate having the security. What mother wouldn’t want their child as safe as possible? Plus, it was easier with David because I wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at him like I’d been Emerson.
In a nutshell? Life was good.
Or at least it was until the week that Dr. Charter called with the good news.
“Ms. Bryant, you are all clear. Your last scans are looking great, and you’re right on track for twenty-three weeks.”
“Oh.” I twirled a bit of my hair around my finger and glanced around the room. David was here, but he was focused on the sandwich I’d made him. “But you’re calling me?”
