Bennett (On the Line 2) - Page 47

“Oh.” It was half moan and half whisper. I took my time with her breasts until I’d gotten several more of those, only stopping when she unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down.

She shoved my boxer briefs down next, her lips turning up with satisfaction as she ran her fingernails over my ass. The tip of my cock brushed against her thigh, and she reached down and stroked me.

“Fuck . . . Charlotte.” I was too hard and ready to withstand much of that.

It wasn’t just her hands on me, but her heavy breathing and soft skin that had my balls aching with desire. Even her light, sweet smell was sexy. I’d fantasized about this so many times and it was finally happening. I kissed her then, letting all my built-up longing radiate into her. She tightened her hold on my erection and fuck . . . I almost lost it.

I eased her onto the bed and pulled the nightie off over her head. As soon as the scruff on my face touched her breasts, she moaned and arched her back up off the bed. I kissed, caressed, and explored her skin, making her wait for me to get to her spread thighs.

When I ran my tongue down the length of her slit, she moaned and wiggled out from beneath me.

“I can’t,” she said breathlessly. “I’m too close.”

“Just let go, baby.” I bent down and kissed her hip. “Let me taste you. I want you to come.”

She ran a hand through my hair, her fingertips grazing over my scalp. “I want us to come together the first time.”

I knelt between her legs and eased the head of my cock inside her.

“Oh, God.” She clutched the bedsheet and wrapped her legs around my thighs, pulling herself closer. My dick sank another inch inside her.

So she wanted it now. I pushed all the way in and we groaned together. She was tight and wet and utterly perfect.

I pumped in and out, slow and deep. It was hard to hold on with her moaning and writhing beneath me, her blond hair spread out wildly on the pillow.

“Bennett,” she said, panting. “Oh, shit. Faster.”

I hooked her ankles over my shoulders and picked up the pace. Her moaning became frantic and she sank her nails into my ass.

It pushed me over the edge. I came hard, my whole body tensing as I emptied myself into her. She gave a final loud cry, her pussy milking every drop out of me, and then her nails relaxed their hold and she sank down to the bed.

I moved onto my side and pulled her against me, her back to my chest. She was breathing heavily, so I kissed her neck and shoulder until her breaths slowed to a normal pace.

“That was incredible,” she said. “I don’t care if it was a mercy fuck.”

I leaned up on my elbow and turned her chin toward me, forcing her to meet my eyes.

“Why the hell would you say that to me, Charlotte?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed with confusion.

“What about that felt like a mercy fuck?”

“I don’t . . . I’m sorry. I just assumed a pregnant woman wasn’t any man’s first choice.”

“You’re carrying my baby.” I kept hold of her chin. “I found you unbelievably sexy before and I still do.”

She smiled. “Ditto. Bennett, your body is unreal.”

“I’d drop anything to go to bed with you, Charlotte. You just say the word.”

“Really? I have a ho

t sex slave?”

I arched my brows and grinned. “Even better. You’ve got a hot baby daddy sex slave.”

She laughed and snuggled back into me. I pulled the covers over us and wrapped my arm around her middle, resting my palm on her belly.

Tags: Brenda Rothert On the Line Romance
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