Chapter 37
The amount of times I’ve fantasised about having Irish in my bed over the past five months is frankly embarrassing. Now that she’s here, spread out naked across the Egyptian cotton sheets, her stomach swollen with my baby—I can’t fucking believe it.
I gave her the tour of the house, which naturally ended up in the master suite. The second I opened the bedroom door, she stripped for me. I didn’t even have to ask. She simply stared at me with that hungry look, then reached round, unzipped her dress and tossed it to the floor. Then, she unclipped her bra, freeing her beautiful breasts.
And now she’s spreadeagled, staring at me with those huge, chocolate come-to-bed eyes and, fuck me, I have to wonder if I died somewhere along the way and went to heaven.
I shrug out of my suit jacket and toss it onto the chaise lounge without breaking eye contact. I couldn’t tear my gaze away if I tried.
She slides further up the four-poster bed on her back, then rolls onto one elbow, cradling her head in her hand. She watches intently as I remove my cufflinks, place them on the vanity table beside the bed, then roll my sleeves up to reveal my forearms.
She rolls her lips, but she says nothing.
I stride towards the end of the bed, kick off my shoes and crawl over to her. My hands wrap around her ankles, spreading her legs even wider for me. ‘So fucking perfect, Zara.’ My eyes roam over her glistening slit—pink perfection personified. I press my lips to her inner thigh, peppering kisses all over her silky soft skin. Goosebumps ripple in every direction, and she shivers.
‘Cold?’ I tease.
‘Anything but.’ She breathes heavily.
‘I fucking missed you, Irish.’ I inch higher until my mouth is millimetres from her sex.
‘I missed you,’ she admits, reaching out to run her fingers through my hair.
‘Me? Or my tongue?’ I roll it slowly over her slit, swallowing her sweet arousal. She tastes fucking exquisite.
She moans. ‘Both p>
A smile rips open my lips. She watches in open fascination as I glide my tongue over her clit. Again. And again. And again. ‘You’re so good at that,’ she moans.
I spread her legs wider again. ‘I’m the only man who gets to kiss your cunt p>
Her eyes flash with desire.
‘Say it,’ I demand lowly. ‘And I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own name p>
Her furled nipples tighten further, I reach up, skimming my fingers over them. Our eyes lock. Sexual energy tears between us.
‘You’re the only man who gets to kiss my cunt,’ she says breathily.
‘Such a good girl,’ I growl. My erection digs into the bed as I capture her clit with my lips and suck it slowly until she screams. Her fingers knot in my hair as her back arches off the bed. I slide two fingers deep inside her core and thrust as she rides my face.
Fuck. She’s so responsive. Her body is my favourite instrument in the entire universe, and I plan on playing it all night long.
Finally, her limbs go limp and her head flops back onto the pillow. I crawl up the bed. ‘Next time I make you come, you call my name, sweetheart.’ I reach for my belt and unbuckle it. ‘I’ve been dying to hear how it sounds from your lips when you’re impaled on my cock p>
‘I forgot what a filthy mouth you had,’ her greedy gaze drops to my dick as I free it from my boxers. Precum glistens from the tip.
‘Liar.’ I arch an eyebrow. ‘You remembered my filthy mouth every time you touched yourself in the last five months.’ My tone dares her to challenge me.
‘I’m not even going to try and deny it,’ she sniggers.
I lower myself gently, careful not to put any weight on the baby, pressing my cock at her entrance.
A look of vulnerability flashes across her face. ‘What is it, sweetheart p>
‘Do you mind if I get on top of you?’ She eyes the space on the bed beside her.
A growl rumbles from my throat. ‘Is that a joke? Do I mind if you get on top of me? Baby, you can sit on my face, cock, or any other part of me.’ I press a kiss to her lips and sweep her hair back from her forehead. ‘You own me. Use me any way you want, but remember, I need to hear you cry my name when you come p>
Her lips stretch into a languid smile as she pats the sheets next to her. I roll into the space, placing my hands behind my neck to cradle my head.
She rocks up into a sitting position, then climbs on top of me, straddling me with her toned thighs. Her hands wrap around my cock and she pumps, then runs a thumb over my tip, swiping through the precum oozing out for her. She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks, and I swear my balls are about to explode.
‘Sexy as fuck.’ I rasp.
She rocks higher onto her knees and positions me at her slit. It takes every bit of willpower I possess not to sink myself inside her. The need to bury myself in her hot tight channel and reclaim every inch of her has been clawing at me since she snuck out on me all those weeks ago. She lowers herself onto me slowly, one life affirming inch at a time. I watch on, entranced, enamoured with the goddess on top of me. It’s fucking transcendent. Practically a religious experience.
Her head rolls back as she rocks against me, sliding up and down my rock hard length, over and over and over again in a slow, steady rhythm. I reach for her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples, and she mews, grinding against me. Glassy eyes lock on mine, overflowing with raw appreciation—and something else. Something that looks a lot like affection. My heart swells in my chest.
This woman.
I could fall hard and fast for a woman like Zara Beckett. And the way she’s looking at me—I’d almost swear the feeling is mutual.
‘Cole,’ she murmurs, hooded eyes hued with desire. ‘I’m close,’ she confesses.
‘I know, baby.’ My hands glide over her body to hold her hips, guiding her to a deeper angle. We stare at each other in wonder as her thighs tighten either side of my torso. She clings to the tops of my shoulders, her fingernails digging in as we buck against each other, slowly dragging each other into the most decadent oblivion.
‘Come for me, Zara.’ Her core contracts, squeezing my cock in response.
Her full lips pop open as she stares at me like I’m some sort of god. ‘Cole,’ she cries, holding my eye as she shatters on top of me. The sound of my name, the sheer ecstasy in her tone, and the sight of her losing it on top of my dick sets my own release ripping through me. White-hot pleasure bursts from my balls as I spill myself into her. ‘Zara.’ Her name sounds like a plea and a prayer.
She lowers her face to mine and kisses me, swallowing my moans as I ride out every last second of pleasure.
Finally, she rolls off, collapsing beside me. I wrap my arm around her, drawing her tighter into my chest as we catch our breaths. She snuggles into me, nuzzling her cheek against my pec. I press a kiss to the top of her head. ‘Don’t even think about running out on me tonight, Irish,’ I murmur, gently stroking the back of her arm, before settling my hand on her bump.
She tilts up her face until our eyes lock. ‘Because tonight’s the night you’ll run after me p>
I swallow thickly. ‘Because if you leave me again, you’ll break the heart I didn’t even know I owned until I met you p>
Her breath hitches. She pauses for a minute. ‘Don’t worry, California. I’m not going anywhere tonight. Except to sleep.’ Her lips lift into a languid smile. ‘Growing your baby is exhausting p>
‘And having multiple orgasms isn’t?’ I say wryly.
‘That’s why I need to sleep,’ she mumbles. ‘I’m hoping for more tomorrow p>
Her swollen stomach rests slightly on my hip. I stroke it with a tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of. We stare at each other silently through the dimness.
I can’t believe she’s here.
She’s real.
And we’re having a baby.
Something jolts between us. Her eyes widen, shining with wonder. ‘Oh, did you feel that p>
‘I felt…something p>
‘He kicked!’ she squeals. ‘That’s the first time I felt it properly. Sometimes I feel little flutters of movement, but that was a real kick p>
She moves my hand over her stomach, then settles hers on top, threading her fingers through mine. Our eyes bore into each other’s as we lie completely still, hoping to feel him again.
Within seconds, I feel a tiny thump against my palms. A pang of pure, unfiltered awe pierces my chest. Awe and… love. Love for the child growing in Zara’s stomach. And love for the woman growing that child.
We lie there silently staring at each other until darkness descends. Eventually her eyelids flutter closed. Her breathing slows to a deep and even rhythm.
I press a kiss to her forehead and thank the God I’m not sure I even believe in that I found her. Or rather, she found me.