One Night, So Pregnant! Read Online Free PDF Page B

breasts.
    If .
    The word was loaded with as much doubt and accusation as she remembered from his office over a week ago. But instead of leaving her feeling shocked and vulnerable, this time all his low opinion did was make her temper ignite. She concentrated on the flare of anger, and tried to ignore the tightening around her ribcage.
    ‘All right, then.’ She crossed her arms, annoyed when her swollen breasts began to throb under his gaze for no apparent reasons. ‘ If you’re so convinced I’m not pregnant with your child, what exactly are you doing here?’
    Before she could react, she saw the sheen of lust dilate his pupils and his hand clasped the back of her neck. Her arms released instinctively as he pulled her flush against him, his lips millimetres from hers, her heavy breasts not just throbbing now, but aching. She arched into him instinctively, pressing the swollen tips against the solid wall of his chest like a hungry cat.
    ‘You know what I’m doing here,’ he growled, the words guttural with desperation. ‘It’s the same reason you let me into the apartment. I can’t get you out of my head.’
    And then his lips were on hers. And all pretence of sense, or even sensibility, burned away in a fireball of need.
    Her fingers sank into the glossy strands of hair at the base of his skull, massaged his scalp as he devoured her mouth, bit into her lower lip. She thrust her tongue into the hot recesses of his mouth, kissing him back with an instinctive need to taste, to take, to torture him the way he was torturing her.
    He dragged his mouth away. His harsh breathing rasping against her ear as he fumbled for her running vest, yanked it over her head, then pressed his palms against her sports bra, lifting the weight of her heavy breasts. Her thin cry of need reverberated in her ears.
    ‘How can I still want you this much?’ he groaned, his words echoing her thoughts.
    He released the hook on her bra and scooped up her tender flesh with his rough palms. Then his mouth—hot and wet—closed over the straining nipple. He suckled hard then transferred to the other nipple, tugged on the newly sensitive peak and made a pistol shot of need explode inside her.
    She sucked in a shuddering breath, sobbed as he continued to torment first one breast then the other, and the firestorm rushed towards her. She screamed, the clench and rush of fulfilment sudden and shockingly intense.
    ‘Did you just come?’
    All she could manage was a weak nod, as stunned by the staggering speed and intensity of her orgasm as he was.
    His brows rose up his forehead then he swore, grasping her hips and lifting her easily onto the countertop. She clung to him, her body limp, sated, despite the pressure now burning like an inferno between her thighs. The Formica felt cold on her bottom as he yanked down her sweats, pulled them off and ripped the purple silk of her knickers. She listened in a trance to the sound of clothing being struggled out of, ripping foil, the ragged pants of their breathing.
    And then he was there, huge and solid, the blunt head of his erection probing her entrance.
    He stopped abruptly, his chest heaving as the deep blue gaze connected with hers. ‘I want to be inside you.’
    She watched his jaw clench, rigid with the effort to hold back, and somewhere her dazed mind registered that he was asking her for permission before he took that final plunge. She lifted her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed her burning centre against the brutal pressure, letting instinct take over and damning the consequences.
    ‘Don’t stop,’ she demanded.
    He groaned, gripped her bottom and impaled her in one glorious, all-consuming stroke. He pulled out briefly, then thrust back, harder, faster and further—filling every part of her. His fingers dug into her buttocks, anchoring her for the brutal possession, his movements not smooth or controlled, but basic, elemental, just like their first time. He