The Surgeon's One-Night Baby

Before he could stop himself, he was lifting her through the air to settle her on his lap and her soft, startled cry even as she leaned instinctively into him, her arms slipping around his neck and her bottom nudging against the hottest, hardest part of him, only acted as an accelerant to the fire.

He closed the gap and allowed himself to taste her all over again, light and deep, languid

and demanding. Indulging in the feel, the scent, the breathy sounds of pleasure that were so essentially Archie when he plundered her mouth and pressed kisses into the creases at either corner. She quivered deliciously as he scorched a trail down her neck to the sensitive hollow where his lips, his tongue, his teeth all worked in harmony until she was breathing hard and wriggling on his lap. And he was aching, physically aching, for her.

His hands found their way to the hem of her T-shirt, hauling it over her head in one fluid movement, and as her hair tumbled back down and over her shoulders, he couldn’t help lifting one hand to wind it around his fist, pulling just the wrong side of gently to tilt her mouth back up to his and claim her all over again.

Archie pressed her chest to him. Hard nipples scraped urgently against him, even through his own thin shirt. She fumbled with the buttons, tugging them open and rubbing against him as though the skin-to-skin contact might somehow alleviate her longing. And Kaspar loved it. The way she acted out of pure desire. The feel and the taste, and what she wanted. The kind of women he’d been with before her had been too busy trying to show him how good they were and too hung up on the aesthetics of it.

He let his thumb graze one swollen peak with deliberate nonchalance, moving quickly away when she arched her back in order to repeat the action. She groaned softly.

‘Kaspar...’

‘What is it, Archie?’

He was amazed that he could managed to sound even a fraction as in control as he did.

‘You know what,’ she whispered, pushing her chest to his again.

‘Tell me,’ he rasped. ‘I want to hear it.’

She flushed slightly, but met his eyes boldly.

‘Touch me.’

It was like some exquisite torture, keeping his hands to himself. But he wanted to hear her say it. He thirsted to hear the longing in her tone, knowing that it was a need only he could sate for her.

For both of them.

‘Where?’ he demanded.

‘Anywhere,’ she whispered. ‘Everywhere.’

He couldn’t stand it any longer. Dropping his head back to the hollow, he kissed and teased.

‘Here?’

‘There,’ she agreed, tilting her head to one side to allow him better access. Taking his time, he made his way down her body, his fingertips hooking down the lace of her bra to free one perfect nipple.

‘Here?’

She gasped, and nodded, her head falling back slightly as he licked, sucked. And with every stroke of his tongue he stoked the fire and revelled in the way the flames roared within him. It was all he could do to stay where he was, lavishing attention on first one rosy peak and then the other. Then back again, as her breathing grew ever more shallow, catching in her throat.

And then he was sliding his hand up the bare skin of her thigh, the summery skirt puddling around her bottom as though only too happy to fall away for him. Archie moaned, a low, soft, long sound that seemed to wind its way through him and coil around his sex as potently as if it were her delicate hand. He reached the top of one thigh and then, his knuckles barely brushing her hot, molten core, he skimmed his way slowly down the other thigh.

‘You’re teasing me again,’ she moaned, burying her head in his shoulder.

Half a gasp, half a growl, but wholly frustration. Another shot fired through him.

‘I am,’ he managed, shocked at how difficult it suddenly seemed to speak.

Kaspar could stand it no longer. He ached for her. Physically ached. He wanted her. And she was his. He lifted his hand and slid it beneath the silky triangle of material.

Hot. Wet. So very ready for him.

He had never wanted anything more than he wanted her right now. It was time to claim her. Brand her as his. He would never want anyone the way he wanted Archie.

She froze at exactly the same moment he did.