by Penny Wylder
He leans in to kiss me, and I taste coffee and mint on his tongue. His kiss is gentle at first, but I reach down and grab the bulge growing in his pants and he moans into my mouth, deepening the kiss until his fingers are tangled in my hair. When we finally come up for air, his hand is at my breast, tugging my nightgown down to give him access to my nipple. He takes it in his mouth and sucks. They’re so sensitive I feel like he ignites a hot wire from my tits straight to my pinkness. I’m instantly wet. He plays with me, licking one nipple and then the other, gently taking them between his teeth and tugging. I feel him getting harder under my hand, and rub over his pants, encouraging him on.
His hand traces over the growing swell of my belly and then rests right above my entrance. I try to scoot closer to him, to wiggle my body to force his hand lower, but my movement is limited these days.
“Touch me, Kent,” I whisper. And when he glides two fingers up and down my lips, I beg, “Please.”
Finally, he dips a finger inside me, just to the first knuckle, and I bear down, seeking more. He pumps his fingertip inside me, teasing me, knowing that it’s not enough, it won’t be enough, and he whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want.”
I want everything in this moment. I want his mouth on me, his cock inside, his nimble fingers on my soft... everything. My appetite for this man is endless. My head feels like it’s spinning as he drags a wet finger up to my folds. I startle when he finally makes contact with my most sensitive spot, sliding over me, drawing figure eights with greater and greater pressure until I sling a leg over his hips, moving my body with his rhythm, urging him to keep going, never stop.
“I’m getting close,” I pant, running my fingers through his hair, looking at him as he looks at me. He smirks and kisses me. “Not without me,” he says, and then the bastard breaks contact. I’m about to protest when I realize he’s getting up on his knees and stripping off his tee shirt. He reaches down and quickly undoes his belt, awkwardly fumbling on the bed to remove his boxers and jeans. Kent is on his knees and his cock is hard, jutting out at me. He strokes himself from the base to the tip and back down again. He’s putting on a show. He reaches down to my entrance again and coats his fingers in my juices, then uses that hand to touch himself with short strokes at the crown. I watch as he gets harder. As the head of his cock swells and darkens, how his pec muscles jump under his tanned skin. And the whole time his eyes are on me. Watching how I react, enjoying the look of hunger that’s so apparent on my face.
I’ve seen him naked probably thousands of times already, but still, every time it takes my breath away. Mine, the animal inside me roars. That perfect body is mine: to taste, to touch, to use for my pleasure, to put babies inside me and to protect me.
Finally he lies down beside me on his side, his head just inches from mine on the pillow. He runs a hand over my inner thigh and then pulls it back so it’s resting over his hip. In this position he can easily enter me, and he wastes no time, guiding his cock inside me, slowly. His face transforms as he goes, and I relish this moment, seeing just how much he needs this as I do.
He’s gentle at first, making sure I’m comfortable, trying not to jostle me too much. This is what it’s been like for a couple of months since I really started showing. No matter how often I’ve told him he can’t hurt me or the baby, he starts off tentatively, as if I’m made of glass. But it never lasts. He’s moving in slow strokes. I can feel every inch of him, and when he angles himself slightly lower, he scrapes over my g-spot again and again. A benefit of pregnancy. Everything in my body is more sensitive, and fucking me like this, I could come in seconds.
“Harder, Kent,” I urge him on, and I can feel his rhythm falter. He’s at war with himself. The protector in him wants to go slow, keep me safe, but the animal inside him, I know what he wants. And I know that animal, that feral lover, will eventually win.
“I want you to feel good,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want this for you.”
But his actions belie his words, and his hand on my breast is squeezing, hard. He starts thrusting faster, and my tits bounce as he penetrates me, and I know that makes him even more turned on.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight. So damn hot.”
He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face toward his. He devours my mouth, and I feel his stubble scraping my face, and I feel his hand almost painfully squeezing my breast, and I’m about to come undone. I can’t hear the ocean in the distance, or any sounds from the street. Everything is muffled as I start to rise, as my body builds toward an exquisite release. Faster and faster he hits me in just the right spot, and it’s inevitable now.
“Oh shit,” I moan. “I’m coming, Kent. Don’t stop.”
His hand is in my hair, our foreheads are pressed together, and as the first wave breaks over me, my vision blacks out momentarily, but when it comes back, I see Kent’s s eyes, still staring at me. My body shakes as pleasure sweeps through me, and then seconds later I see the same on Kent’s face. He thrusts into me a final, hard time, and then goes rigid. I feel his hot cum pulsing into me. And though his lips are closed tight, the sound coming from deep inside him is loud, filling the room, rumbling in his chest so I feel the vibration against my body.
We lie there panting together, Kent’s cock still inside me. He lazily trails his fingers up and down my belly, peppering my face with small kisses.
I break the pleasant silence. “I should get up now, I guess,” I say.
“Or you could just go back to sleep,” he says, smoothing down my hair, nuzzling my ear. “You won’t have too many mornings to sleep in once the baby comes. Your clients’ emails and calls can wait.”
He plays with my hair and my eyes start to flutter closed. I hear the ocean, just yards away from my window, and feel the strong body of the man I love against me. Sleep begins to blanket me, and it feels so delicious to allow it to take me away.
“Love you, Perri,” Kent whispers in my ear.
I’m too far gone to say it back, but I give him a small smile, and I know he knows.
A year and a half ago I came to this town thinking I was getting my big break. That I’d finally achieve something that I’d had my heart set on for so long. Life works in funny ways, because that day when I first saw Kent, I was actually walking into my future that I didn’t even know I’d wanted. How damn lucky is that?
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Also by Penny Wylder
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Forbidden Bride
Chapter One
Tristan
It feels like it’s been a decade since I’ve set foot in this bar, even though it hasn’t even been half that long. Almost four years to the day since I put all of my shit in my car and drove out of Leighton City without looking back.
I honestly didn’t think that I’d ever be back here. The guilt and the temptation were too much, and I wasn’t going to be the kind of man that ruined a family. Ever.
But these four years have taught me a lot, and life away from Leighton City never really panned out the way I hoped. I never lost touch with most of my friends, and all of them—especially Bruce—never understood why I left in the first place. I never told them. I made up a story about needing to get out of town and having a good job offer and a million other little lies that made them ask fewer questions. But they probably all knew that it was
bullshit. I’m glad they never found out the real reason that I left, even if it’s still going to cause me problems now.
A little cliché, but I can’t do anything about that. I left town because of a girl.
“Tristan!”
I hear my name called from behind me. It’s Bruce himself, in the flesh. The hug I give my best friend is absolutely genuine. It’s been at least a couple years since I’ve seen him. Texts aren’t quite the same, and I’ve felt…strange acting like everything is the same. Because of Nicola.
As Bruce embraces me, I’m pulled into the memory I’ve lived a thousand times over. The New Year’s party at Bruce’s house. A bonfire. Something we’d done a hundred times before, but I never knew how much it would change things. Nicola’s birthday is January first, but we always celebrated the night before.
Nicola Thompson, Bruce’s daughter. That night was her eighteenth birthday.
The familiar stab of guilt rests deep in my gut. I was a little drunk, and I went inside to get another drink. The kitchen was dark, and I found Nicola there. I hadn’t been looking for her, but it turns out that she had been looking for me.
I’m not an idiot. I’d seen the way she looked at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. The heat and yearning in her gaze. And I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was. But I ignored it. Falling for Nicola—even thinking about her when she was underage and my best friend’s daughter—was never something that I was willing to do. I’ve seen what twenty year gaps can do to relationships and to a family, and I swore that I would never be a part of something like that.
But that night was different.
“Tristan,” she said, her voice soft.
“Nicola, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She was illuminated by the light of the refrigerator as I opened it to grab another beer. The cooler outside was empty. “If you’re all right, then why are you hiding in here with all the lights out?”
She laughed softly. “I’m not hiding. Just waiting.”
“For what?” I asked. It was deliberate because I had a suspicion, but I wanted to make her say it.
“For you.”
I shook my head. “Nicola, I’m sorry—”
“Before you say that we can’t, let me tell you some things,” she whispered, taking a step closer. “It’s midnight now. I’m eighteen and I’ve been waiting to say them.”
It was then that I noticed what she was wearing—a dress. But not just any dress. It’s the same dress that she had been wearing earlier in the day before the sun set, and for the whole party. A little silver number that clung to her skin and curves in a way that could drive a man mad. It was clear there was nothing under it, and I had to avert my eyes from her body for fear that my mind would spin away from me in a way that I couldn’t control. We had talked about music and her plans for after the summer, the conversation casual and easy, aside from the fact that I had to avert my eyes.
Then, with her only a foot away, there was nowhere else to look. Her body was perfect, curved in all the right places and covered in skin-tight cloth that left nothing to the imagination. In the semi-darkness of the kitchen, it appeared far dirtier. Something designed to tease and arouse. Something barely there. She did it on purpose, and it was working.
Anyone would have had to be a madman not to have been turned on by the sight, and I am not a madman. My cock was harder than it’s ever been in my life, my brain suddenly recognizing that she was a woman. Legal. Someone I could look at as an equal, and fuck, both my body and my mind were interested in that.
Nicola is fucking brilliant. We’ve always gotten along, her clever words and ideas pushing my mind despite the difference in age.
And that night she was looking at me like I was the only person in the world. I was the flame that was giving her the light in her eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that—with utter lust and desire laced with a certainty that I felt in my gut.
“I want you, Tristan.”
“Nicola—”
“No,” she said, placing a hand on my chest. I swear the heat of it burned right through my clothes. “Let me get this out. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I’ve waited because I knew you would never look at me before tonight. But I want this.”
She grabbed my hand, and I couldn’t move as she placed it between her legs. Her already tight skirt rode up her thighs, exposing even more perfect skin. She was a furnace and I wanted to burn with her. Nothing was blocking my access, and I could feel she was slick with desire.
“Fuck, Nicola. You need to stop.” But somehow I couldn’t make myself move my fingers anywhere but closer, and the little gasp of breath when I moved them made me even harder. Made me think about the fact that I could still hear her parents and our friends just outside and that anyone could walk in at any moment. And I still couldn’t move my hand away.
“No,” she said. “You need to see how much I want you. I can’t be around you without losing my mind, Tristan. I am so in love with you.”
I shook my head. “You’re eighteen.”
“Don’t try to tell me that I don’t know what I want,” she says, breathless as she moves closer, grasping my wrist and keeping my fingers locked against her pussy. “I’ve watched you my whole life, and I know what kind of man you are. You’re a good one. Kind to a fault, and honest. Not to mention so hot that you make my clothes practically melt off. And now that I’m allowed to say it, I want to. I want you to be my first.”
I swear my cock jumped so hard that my zipper left an impression in my skin. It had never occurred to me that she would still be a virgin, a girl like her who’s utterly amazing. And of course I would never ask. But the thought of her being untouched, and the image of her laid out underneath me, pure and waiting for me to be the one to teach her almost made me take her right then and there, damn the consequences.
In that minute I didn’t care that she was my best friend’s daughter or that we were mere feet from being discovered. All I wanted was to taste her and to feel her against me. I wrapped my fingers behind her neck and pulled her to me, closing the distance and covering her lips with mine.
Her moan made me blind, and I swear I abandoned all reason. Her body fit to mine with soft perfection, her curves pressing exactly where I wanted them to go. My hand was moving on its own, pushing further into her wetness and stroking her heat. But not inside—not yet. I found her clit and rubbed my thumb across it, feeling it swell under my attention. Fucking hell. The way her body was reacting like it was made for mine was intoxicating.
Nicola pulled away from me, gasping at my fingers’ attention, and her dark hair fell across her eyes in the sexiest way. “Your cock isn’t all I want, Tristan,” she breathed, the little hitch in her breath the most gorgeous thing I’d ever heard. “I want your cock to be the only one I ever feel inside me. To let you fuck me until your name is the only one that I remember. I want to be your wife. I want you to put your babies in my belly so that you’re inside me. You are my forever. I don’t care how long I have to wait. I already know that you’re the one for me.”
I remember going still, the images she painted unfolding in front of me easily. Like they were already there in my head waiting for me to call on them. I envisioned taking her for the first time, binding the two of us together forever in that way. I saw a ring on her finger and the two of us entwined in the sheets at sunrise with coffee. It all seemed so easy and natural that my breath went short in my chest. And I pulled away. Even though it felt like the hardest thing I had ever done.
Because that couldn’t happen. Ever.
“Nicola, we can’t,” I said.
All she did was smile. “Like I said, I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
She kissed me again, hard and fierce, and left me standing in that kitchen alone, wondering how it was possible that my world was turned upside down in less than ten minutes.
And I knew that if I didn’t leave, that I wou
ld give in. I wouldn’t be able to resist those images of us together. Everything unfolded with perfect clarity in front of me, and I felt it in my gut. I had to leave or I would ruin everything. Bruce would despise me, and he was the best friend that I’d ever had. And I wasn’t about to destroy their family because I couldn’t keep my dick in check. Lord knows I’ve seen enough of that happening in my life.
So I left. The next day. I was gone before anyone even knew. But now I’m back, because it didn’t work out. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about Nicola, even though I never returned her calls. I saw how she matured from afar, and it only made me want her more. And one day, I finally had enough.
She said that she’d wait for me. I’m back to find out if she was telling the truth. I wasn’t ready before. I am now. And I’ve come back to make Nicola Thompson mine.
Obviously I can’t tell Bruce yet. Not until I know if she even still wants me. But he’ll know eventually. I can’t stay away from her now, and if she’s as serious as she claimed to be, he’s going to see it between us soon enough. I hope that our friendship can survive it.
Bruce pulls back and claps me on the shoulder. “It’s really good to see you, Tristan. About time you came back from wherever you were.”
I roll my eyes and smile. “You know where I went. It’s not like I was that far away. Only a few hours’ drive.”
We walk to the bar, and Bruce lifts his hand to the bartender to get us some beers. He shrugs. “You know how things are around here, man. A few hours may as well be oblivion.”
