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Then his hand moved from her hip and eased underneath her leg, pushing it upward to give him room. He supported her thigh with his forearm and reached up until his fingers found her clitoris.

His thumb teased the entrance his cock rubbed back and forth over, while his fingers parted the soft flesh above and tenderly stroked the stiff, sensitive bundle of nerves at her center.

No longer able to lie still, she tightened and bucked back against him.

His thrusts got stronger, and he sank deeper, until her buttocks were flat against his abdomen.

“Are you ready, honey? Go with me. Come with me now.”

“Just one more second,” she breathed.

She closed her eyes and rocked against him. His fingers grew more assertive, and he moved his thumb up to roll over her clit in a demand for her to respond.

“Yes. Oh my God, yes. Just like that, Sam. Don’t stop please. Don’t stop.”

She was pleading. Her voice was hoarse and needy, and each demand came out in a short burst of air.

He drew back and then pumped deep just as his thumb rolled in a tight circle.

She cried out and tensed. Her fingers curled into balls, into fists so tight that her hands shook with the strain. Cascades of color flashed, little and big spots that floated through her vision even when she closed her eyes.

Sam was thrusting hard and fast now as he sought his own release. His hoarse shouts mixed with her agonized sounds. It sounded as though she was in the worst sort of pain, but the pleasure, ah the pleasure, was so intense, so beautiful that she didn’t want it to end.

She reached down to still his hand when the sensation became too intense to bear. He eased his thumb away but continued a gentle rocking motion that sent his cock gliding through tissues slick with his release.

Finally he stopped, lodged deep within her. She didn’t move for fear of displacing him, and she lay there simply enjoying the feeling of being so intimately connected to this man.

He kissed her back, rubbed his thumb in circles around the ball of her shoulder and then kissed her again, his erratic breaths sending goose bumps over her skin.

“I need you.”

His voice was quiet and regretful, as if he had no liking for the admission and hated voicing it even more. She wondered why he’d been honest; maybe he too was tired of all the deceit between them.

“I can’t explain it. Not sure I want to, but damn it, I need you, Sophie. It’s not just physical. It can’t be. I’ve had physical before.”

He moved slightly, and for a moment she feared he was pulling out of her, but he stayed locked tight, their bodies joined as he shifted closer to her.

He slid his hand over her waist and splayed his fingers over her belly. His grip was possessive and tender and told her more than words that he was claiming what was his.

He continued to pet and stroke her belly, his touch light and soothing. He rested his mouth on her shoulder, and neither spoke. She floated on a cloud between sleep and awake, existing in a state of delicious lethargy. Finally she dozed, and only came awake when she felt him finally pull away in a warm rush of fluid.

“Be right back,” he said.

He returned with a warm towel and gently cleaned between her legs. Then he settled next to her in bed once more and pulled her in close to him.

“Don’t we have to leave?” she mumbled.

“No, not yet. My team will notify me when it’s safe.”

She stirred and frowned. “Are we safe here, just us?”

She felt him smile against her neck.

“Yes, Soph, we’re safe. I wouldn’t risk you or our baby. I’ll know if anyone steps within ten feet of our door.”

“How?” she asked drowsily.

He chuckled. “Security. I did a lot while you were taking your bath. Sleep now and don’t worry about anything.”

She sighed as some of the postcoital euphoria faded. It was hard not to worry when she faced so much uncertainty. She still hadn’t told him everything, and when he knew, he might not want anything to do with her.

He hated her father, and if the apple didn’t fall very far from the tree, she couldn’t imagine Sam being overjoyed with spending time with her, loving her or allowing his child to be raised by a monster.

Fear churned in her stomach until she was sucking deep breaths through her nose to quiet the nausea. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t take her child from her.

She closed her eyes. She was being an idiot. Nothing of the sort was going to happen. She just had to be careful, pick the right time and make sure her uncle never got close.

And the last she couldn’t do without Sam.

CHAPTER 17

SAM woke to a warm, sweet body sprawled across him and a tiny pitter-patter thumping him in the side. It took him a moment to process that it was his child kicking him.

He smiled and slid his hand down Sophie’s spine, down to cup her plump little rear as he lay there soaking up the utter domesticity of the scene.

His woman, limp and sated, draped across him in a possessive manner that gave him a ridiculous sense of satisfaction, and his child, waking him up with a tiny foot to his gut.

If the little imp was anything like her mama, he was in for a hell of a ride.

As he continued to caress her behind, she stirred and murmured something against his neck before burrowing deeper into his arms.

“What was that?” he asked against her ear.

“Shower,” she muttered. “I need one. But God, I don’t want to get up.”

“Then don’t.”

He tightened his hold on her, content to stay just like this. He raised his hand from her hip to check his watch and then lazily trailed his fingers down to the cleft of her ass.

Chill bumps raced across her back, and he soothed them away with his palm. For a long moment, she lay there, the only sound her soft breathing against his neck.

Yeah, he liked it. He’d liked it five months ago and he liked it now.

Finally she shoved herself up, and her blond hair spilled over his chin. To his surprise, she leaned down and kissed him.

It wasn’t a tentative brush but a hot, open-mouthed kiss that sent a surge of electricity through his body.

She drew away, and her pupils dilated until there was only a thin ring of blue around the black. She laid her palm over his jaw and let her thumb glide across his lips.

“Why’d you tie me up before?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“That time in the hotel. You tied me up.”

His chest shook as laughter escaped. “I don’t know. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. Maybe I’m a kinky bastard. Did you like it?”

She seemed to think about it as she cocked her head to the side.

“Maybe.”

He leaned up and kissed her quickly on the mouth.

“Then maybe I’ll do it again sometime.”

Her eyes widened and went even darker. He smiled. Oh yeah, she’d liked it. The thing was, he didn’t really know why he’d done it. At the time he’d wanted her completely at his mercy, and the idea of her tied to his bed had been a huge turn-on. Not that he needed much encouragement around her.

“Okay, I’m really going to take a shower now,” she said.

She tried to push away, but he caught her against him and then rolled with her until he was over her, staring down into wide swirls of blue.

His cock ached like a son of a bitch, and when she squirmed, the tip brushed through swollen, damp folds. He groaned and pushed, forcing his way through tight, liquid heat. She gasped and surged upward.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “This is going to be quick.”

He thrust and felt his skin peel away, leaving him raw and exposed. He tried to be gentle. He needed to be gentle, now of all times, when she was still sleepy and unprepared, but her channel hugged him, had a stranglehold on his cock.