Pregnant by Morning

No. He breathed heavily through his nose and clamped down on his reaction.

“Matt,” she breathed into his ear, and the low croak was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “When I first saw you, I noticed those capable hands. I want them on my body. Now.”

She reached around to pull the knot of his sleeves apart, but he’d already yanked his wrists free.

His mouth was on hers instantly as he slid both palms down the heat of her back to cup her bottom. Smooth. Arousing. He crushed her against his erection and plunged into sensation, freely allowing his body to revel in the impressions, the awareness. Finally, he felt something other than frozen and disoriented.

As he dipped underneath the triangle of silk at her thighs, she moaned and strained forward, seeking his fingers, throwing her head back in pleasure.

That was as arousing as the feel of her skin.

She was nothing like Amber.

He willed away the comparison—ghosts had no place here. But the thought circled and grew. Amber had been sophisticated, elegant. Beautiful in the way of a glass swan with special handling requirements.

He’d always held her in slight reverence as the future mother of his children, and they’d shared a strong relationship anchored by common interests and goals. Their love life had blossomed into something wonderful and good. But conducted in the dark, under the sheets, which Matthew never minded.

This was something else, something erotic and animalistic and wicked. Evangeline wasn’t Amber. And there were no rules tonight.

He wanted to bury himself in this woman and be resurrected a new man.

* * *

Evangeline enfolded Matt with her arms and willed him to hurry. But there was no rushing the man she’d been goading with tied hands for the past few minutes.

His fingers wrapped her in a veil of pleasure as they slowly traveled across her skin, spinning magic through her center as he touched her everywhere—inside and out.

Yes. Exactly what she needed—to be filled, valued, appreciated. Accepted.

With incredible restraint, he lowered her to the mattress and drew off her underwear, then crawled up the length of her body, laving every inch of skin as he went. He reached her throat and tilted her head back to taste with hard suction. Simultaneously, his thigh separated hers, relentless against her sensitized flesh and setting off pyrotechnics behind her eyes.

She’d never dropped into such heavy desire so quickly, never been so hot and ready to explode. Usually it took a while. But then, they’d been engaged in foreplay in one form or another since their first meeting in the hall.

Was it any wonder Matt was about to take her under with only his thigh?

His tongue circled her breasts, then treated her to the same intense suction he’d used on her throat. Her back came off the bed, arching, as her feminine parts contracted. She gasped.

“Now, Matt.”

It was supposed to be a demand, not a plea. But the words left her lips on a broken sob, and she no longer cared that a man had reduced her to begging.

He extracted a condom and fingered it on. It took an eternity but then he was back between her thighs, sliding into her. Watching her as they became one and their gazes locked. Something powerful, divine even, swelled between them and her heart thumped in time with the throb in the air.

No, she’d never done this before because she had no idea what this was.

It certainly wasn’t a random hookup. But neither was it safe. The deeper the connection, the deeper the eventual pain.

She’d taken off the mask in a calculated gamble, and Matt hadn’t recognized her. It should have allowed her to simply revel in this one night where a man couldn’t hurt her because he didn’t really know her. It should have been freeing. Not confusing.

Desperately, she cast about for a way to eliminate the swirling mass of vulnerability this man evoked by simply looking at her. Through her.

“Not this way.” She wiggled and he rolled to his side, confusion evident.

“Too soon?”

“Too missionary.” Waggling her brows, she knelt on the bed and glanced back at him. “Try this on for size.”

He grinned and instantly heated her back with his torso, mouth to her neck as he filled her again from behind. Much better. Now she couldn’t see all that depth of emotion. And vice versa. They’d pleasure each other and stave off the loneliness for a night and go on.

His fingers teased her flesh. Clearly this was not his first rodeo. She let her senses flood with Matt and moaned as he lit her up expertly. His name fell from her lips and too late she realized it didn’t matter if she could see his face. His touch conveyed more depth than she’d dreamed possible.

Tears pricked her eyelids. She wanted that touch to mean everything she sensed it did. But was terrified to admit it. How could she convince herself this was nothing but a brief divergence if he kept touching her that way?

The orgasm, quick, powerful and amazing, swallowed her whole long about his second thrust, and he exploded with his third.

She collapsed, chest to the bed, and he spooned her into his arms, both of them still shuddering. He held her tightly and she curled into him, shocked at how natural it felt, how right, when normally she preferred not to be touched as her body cooled.

“I have never come so fast in my life,” she gasped. “I think that’s my new favorite position.”

Though somehow, it hadn’t been quite the cure for her confusion that she’d envisioned. And lying here in his arms with his thumb tenderly stroking the curve of her waist wasn’t helping. The powerful flames of desire he fanned weren’t sexual. She wanted Matt to be different. Special.

She should get dressed and leave. Right now, before she found out he wasn’t.

But if she left, what then? Spend the rest of the night alone, huddled in the dark, listening to Vincenzo’s guests party till dawn?

“It’s definitely my new favorite position.” He cleared his throat. “Though I’m willing to try a couple of others to verify. In a few minutes. I know we have all these condoms, but you’re not an easy woman to recover from.”

She had to smile at that. Nice to know it had been staggering on both sides.

A part of her had prepared to be kicked out. Maybe hoped she would be—it was safer that way. Not all men liked a woman hanging around afterward. Finding out Matt didn’t fall in that category thrilled her. Dangerously.

“What if we just talk?”

Where had that come from? She never stayed.

She nearly took it back, but her soul ached, and Matt inexplicably salved it. Morning was soon enough to escape. For now, she wanted one whole night of fantasy, where nothing mattered but being with a man who liked her and wanted her around.

His lips curved up against her temple. “A continuation of our speed date?”

The chilly palazzo air raised goose bumps on her arms. “Well, I’m not sure how we could find any more levels of compatibility. But okay.”

He laughed. “Yeah, we gel. At least in bed, which is fantastic. It’s been a while.”

“Really? How long?”

Rolling her gently to the side, he pulled the covers free and nestled her back in his arms underneath them, like he’d read her mind. “A year and a half. Or so.”

Oh, God. “Are you like, religious or something? Did I make you break vows?”

“No.” He was quiet for a long time. “That’s when my wife died.”

Something hot exploded in her chest. His pain—she’d seen it, knew it was there, but never would have guessed its roots went so deep.

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