Rising Stars. Maisey Yates
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lifted her hips over his body. He was blind with need, ready to thrust inside her, to impale her. He only knew he had to take her or die.
“Wait,” she panted. Wrenching away from his grasp, she opened a drawer beside the bed. He saw a condom in her hand and realized he’d forgotten all about it.
He’d forgotten about it. If Laura hadn’t stopped him, he would have made love to a woman without a condom for the first time in his life. He exhaled as he broke out into a sweat.
“There,” Laura whispered. Finally, she lowered her body over his, allowing him to impale her, inch by inch.
His eyes rolled back and he closed his eyes. Yes. Yes. He was losing his mind. The more time he spent with her, the more he lost. And it was worth it. So worth it.
Slowly, she moved against him, pulling him deeper inside her. Her thighs were clamped around his hips as she increased her rhythm and speed, riding him. Opening his eyes, he looked up at her, watching the sway of her enormous breasts as she moved over him. Her face was luminous. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy as she bit her full, bruised lower lip. He heard the intake of her breath, and he never wanted to let her go. Ever.
His heart clenched in his chest. He couldn’t let himself feel that way. He couldn’t let himself feel anything but lust. Pure, raw sex.
He had to teach Laura her place. Show them both the true nature of the passion between them.
With a violent movement, he rolled her over on her back, so he was on top of her. Her eyes widened as he roughly gripped her shoulders. Then with a grunt he thrust inside her, hard and deep.
He gasped as he felt her body around him, hot and tight and silken and deep. She cried out from the force of his possession, but he didn’t stop. He only rode faster, filling her with each thrust, deeper and faster, ramming himself inside her. He heard her shocked intake of breath and then she, too, began to grip his shoulders, her fingernails sharp in her answering frenzy of desire.
But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to take off his condom, to feel her from the inside with his naked skin—
No.
The answer was like a blow. It was the one thing he could not allow himself to do. Ever. He could not be that close. He could not risk her conceiving a child.
Furiously, he rode her harder—faster—desperate to feel her tight sheath completely around him, to lose himself utterly inside her. As he slammed into her, he felt her fingernails cutting into the skin of his back. The pain only increased his pleasure as he rode her harder and harder until beads of sweat covered his forehead. He wanted to leave her raw, until he was utterly spent, until they both collapsed into oblivion.
He heard her cry out, her voice rising in a slow crescendo of joy. Tension sizzled down his body, leaving every muscle taut, crying for release. With a violent thrust, he filled her deeply, then held her tight as she screamed his name. He felt her convulse around him and could hold back no longer. With a savage, violent thrust, he filled her. He felt her hot and wet all around him and poured himself inside her with a shout, as his vision went black.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LAURA woke up with a start to see the soft curl of a pink sunrise through the windows. She sat up in bed abruptly, the blanket falling from her naked chest. Had she heard her baby next door?
She listened, and heard nothing except Gabriel’s even, steady breathing beside her in the shadowy bedroom. Then she heard Robby’s voice again.
“Ma…ma…ma!”
Quietly Laura rose from the bed and pulled a robe off the bathroom door hook. Leaving Gabriel’s room, she went down the hall to her own, where she found her baby son sitting up in his crib. Whispering soft words of love, Laura took him in her arms. Holding him tenderly, she fed him, rocking him in the rocking chair. The baby, now yawning with a full belly, swiftly fell back to sleep.
But Laura knew she would not.
Putting him back in his crib, she went to the ensuite bathroom, closing the door silently behind her. She turned on the shower and dropped the robe to the floor. As the steam enveloped her body, she climbed into the marble shower. She washed her hair and stared bleakly at the wall.
She’d been so happy last night. She’d been so stupid.
Of course Gabriel had thought she was lying when she’d claimed he was Robby’s father. It had seemed a useful fabrication. Just like his marriage proposal.
She glanced down at the enormous diamond ring still on her finger. Her other hand closed around it with a sob. It had all felt so real. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back in the hot water. When she’d realized he still didn’t believe he was Robby’s father, her heart had split in two. She’d fallen into the pool, sinking into the water, hoping to forget her pain the way she did at the pond back at her farm.
But it had been Gabriel’s touch that had made her forget, the searing heat of his dark eyes as he’d carried her to bed. For a few hours, she’d managed to forget her heartbreak, forget that she was in love with a man who didn’t want her or their child. She’d managed to forget she’d be leaving him in the morning, with a lie forever between them.
He’d taken her in his arms and kissed her, his lips so gentle and tender and true, and she’d forgotten everything but that she loved him.
His hands had stroked her naked skin as he’d kissed her, his body hard and hot against hers on the bed. She’d lost her mind. Then she’d taken things into her own hands. Literally. A half-hysterical laugh escaped her. She remembered the hard, silky smooth feel of him in her grasp. The taste of the single gleaming bead on the tip of his throbbing shaft. She remembered the rough way he’d reacted, pushing her down against the bed and savagely thrusting deep inside her until she exploded with pleasure, blinding sweetness tinged with bitter salt like tears.
She blinked back tears as she stared across the steamed-up shower. It was morning now. Her left hand closed over the ten-carat diamond sparkling beneath the running water. Their night in Rio was over. Time to give back the ring. Time to take back her heart.
As if she could.
She’d go back home to her family’s farm. Back to her lonely bed. Only now it would be worse than before. Because now she knew she’d always love him. Now, she’d never be free.
Who is the father of your baby, Laura? Will you ever tell?
She turned off the water and dried her hair with a thick white towel. She put on the plush white robe and left her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.
Going to the kitchen, she turned on a light and made coffee. As it brewed, she poured milk and sugar into a big mug, then filled it to the rim with the hot, bitter brew. Blowing on the steaming liquid, she stood for a moment, alone in the house of sleeping males.
This could have been her home. They could have been her family. If only she’d fallen in love with a man who actually loved them back, a man who wanted a wife and child.
Carrying her mug, she went outside to watch the sun rise over the Atlantic. It was the last morning she would ever spend with both Robby and his father under the same roof. The last day she’d ever see the man she would always love.
She felt the soft wind, the breeze off the sea, and looked down at the beach below. She looked down. The party had ended, leaving only litter rattling along the empty street. “There you are.”
She turned to find Gabriel behind her in drawstring pajama bottoms. Her eyes unwillingly lingered on his bare chest before she met his gaze. His dark eyes twinkled at her as he held up a steaming cup of coffee. “You made coffee. Thank you.”
She took a sip from her mug, relishing the burn against her tongue. “Sure.” She drew a deep breath and turned back to the view of the ocean. “It was the least I could do before I go.”
“Go?” There was something odd in his