The Beaumont Brothers: Not the Boss's Baby. Sarah M. Anderson
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Strut, she decided. Nothing ruined good sex like being stupidly self-conscious when he already thought she was amazing. She pulled away from him before he could take away her power to stand.
“This way,” she said over her shoulder as she, yes, strutted toward the bedroom, her hips swaying.
Chadwick made a noise behind her that she took as a compliment, before following her.
She headed toward the bed, but he caught up with her. He grabbed her hips again. “You are better than I thought,” he growled as his hands slipped underneath the lace of the thong. He pulled the panties down, his palms against her legs. “I’ve dreamed of having you like this.”
“Like how?”
He nimbly undid her bra, tossing it aside. She was naked. He was not.
He directed her forward, but not toward the bed. Instead, he pushed her in the direction of her dresser.
The one with the big mirror over it.
Serena gasped at the sight they made. Her, nude. Him, still in his tux, towering over her.
“This. Like this.” He bent his head until his lips were on her neck again, just below the dangling earrings. “Is this okay?” he murmured against her skin.
“Yes.” She couldn’t take her eyes off their reflections, the way her pale skin stood out against his dark tux. The way his arms wrapped around her body, his hands cradled her breasts. The way his mouth looked as he kissed her skin.
The driving weight of desire between her legs pounded with need. “Yes,” she said again, reaching one arm over her head and tangling her fingers in his hair. “Just like this.”
“Good. So good, Serena.” Without the bra, she could feel the pads of his fingertips trace over her sensitive nipple, pulling until it went stiff with pleasure.
She moaned, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. “Just like that,” she whispered.
Then his other hand traced lower. This time, he didn’t pause to stroke her stomach. His fingers parted her neatly trimmed hair and pressed against her heaviest, hottest place.
“Oh, Chadwick,” she gasped as he moved his fingers in small, knowing circles, his other hand stroking her nipple, his mouth finding the sensitive spot under her ear—his bulge rubbing against her.
Her knees gave, but she didn’t go far. Her wet center rode heavy on his hand as his other arm caught her under both breasts.
“Put your hands on the dresser,” he told her. His voice was shaking as badly as her knees were, which made her smile. He might be pushing her to the brink, but she was pulling him along right behind her. “Don’t close your eyes.”
“I won’t.” She leaned forward and braced herself on the dresser. “I want to see what you do to me.”
“Yeah,” he groaned, a look of pure desire on his face as he met her gaze in the mirror. A finger slipped inside. So much, but not enough. She needed more. “You’re so ready for me.” Then she felt him lean back and work his own zipper.
“Next time, I get to do that for you.”
“Any time you want to strip me down, you just let me know. Hold on, okay?” Then he withdrew his fingers.
She watched as he removed a condom from his jacket pocket. It wasn’t like she could get more pregnant than she already was, but she appreciated that he didn’t question protecting her.
He rolled the condom on and leaned into her. She quivered as she waited for his touch. He bent forward, placing a kiss between her shoulder blades. Then he was against her. Sliding into her.
Serena sucked in air as he filled her. And filled her. And filled her. In the mirror, her eyes locked onto his as he entered her. She almost couldn’t take it. “Oh, Chadwick,” she panted as her body took him in. “Oh—oh—oh!”
The unexpected orgasm shook her so hard that she almost pulled off him—but he held her. “Yeah,” he groaned. “You feel so beautiful, Serena. So beautiful.”
He gripped her hips as he slid almost all the way out before he thrust in again. “Okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay,” she managed to get out, wiggling against him. The boldness of her action shocked her. Was she really having sex with Chadwick Beaumont, standing up—in front of a mirror?
Oh, hell yes, she was. And it was the hottest thing she’d ever done.
“Naughty girl,” he said with a grin.
Then he began in earnest. From her angle, she couldn’t see where their bodies met. She could only see his hands when he cupped her breasts to tweak a nipple or slid his fingers between her legs to stroke her center. She could only see the need on his face when he leaned forward to nip at her neck and shoulder, the raw desire in his eyes when their gazes met.
She held on to that dresser as if her life depended on it while Chadwick thrust harder and harder. “I need you so much,” he called out as he grabbed her by the waist and slammed his hips into hers. “I’ve always needed you so much.”
“Yes—like that,” she panted, rising up to meet him each time. His words pushed her past the first orgasm. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this needed, this sexual. “I’m going to—I’m—” Her next orgasm cut off her words, and all she could do was moan in pleasure.
But she didn’t close her eyes. She saw how she looked when she came—her mouth open, her eyes glazed with desire. So hot, watching the two of them together.
A roar started low in Chadwick’s chest as he pumped once, twice more—then froze, his face twisted in pleasure. Then he sort of fell forward onto her, both of them panting.
“My Serena,” he said, sounding spent.
“My Chadwick,” she replied, knowing it was the truth.
She was his now. And he was hers.
But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was still married. He was still her boss. One explosive sexual encounter didn’t change those realities.
For tonight, he was hers.
Tomorrow, however, was going to be a problem.
Chadwick laid in Serena’s bed, his eyes heavy and his body relaxed.
Serena. How long had he fantasized about bending her over the desk and taking her from behind? Years. But the mirror? Watching her watch him?
Amazing.
She came back in and shut the door behind her. Her hair was down now, hanging in long, loose waves around her shoulders. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her hair down. She always wore it up. He could see her nude figure silhouetted by the faint light that trickled through her drapes. Her body did things to him—things he didn’t realize he could still feel. It’d been so long....
She paused. “You need anything?”
“You.” He held out his hand to her. “Come here.”
She slipped into bed and curled up against his chest. “That was...wow.”
Grinning, he pulled her in for a kiss. A long kiss. A kiss that involved a little more than just kissing. He could not get enough of her. The feeling of her filling his hands, pressed against him—she was so much a woman. He’d brought three condoms, just in case. He had the remaining two within easy reach on her bedside table.
So he broke the kiss.
“Mmmm,” she hummed. “Chadwick?”
“Yes?”
She